If you're here, it means we're back. By the final days of the trip, I mentioned that exhaustion and a looming illness had set in and I lost quite a bit of steam - final plans, unfortunately gone to the wayside. I'd intended to visit the Prater amusement park once more, and perhaps the Sigmund Freud museum, but both these things became distant goals as I sat in bed sick during one of the brutal 90 degree days. Sipping water and imitation gatorade was imperative before getting ready for our goodbye dinner. Yet, I feel no regret for lost time, as I had come to feel at home in my dorm room. The heavy double windows which I left open for most of the humid summer allowed for a slight breeze to waft through the apartment, sounds of the street heard below. The chatter of students in other apartments, dogs barking and children laughing, the streetcar ding-ding-dinging down an adjacent street. The sounds of a city, alive and vibrant, where Viennese natives were beginning to retur...
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