Leg II: Traveling from Budapest to Vienna, Austria

As I prepared to leave Budapest, I was left with one last reminder of its raw energy. At the Budapest-Keleti train station, an hour early with vending machine coffee in hand and bags by my side, a Romani man approached me with what I'm sure was a scam — claiming to raise money for a children's hospital. He offered me stickers for a donation. I gave him 1,000 forints (about $3), telling him to keep the stickers, but he showed me his ID and insisted I donate 1,950 forints instead. I said, 'No, ciao,' and moved on. It still blows my mind that he passed up a decent take in hopes of more. That kind of hustle takes a respectable degree of confidence.

After that encounter, the train ride to Vienna was uneventful — much easier than I ever expected international travel to be. The contrast between the two cities hit hard the moment I arrived — cleaner streets, architecture that commanded respect, and a sense of order. My hotel, MOOONS, was right across from the train station, and I was lucky enough to check in early. The room was stunning, with a slanted sky-view window above the bed, complete with electric controls for the blinds. I was delighted to learn that Viennese tap water rolls fresh off the Alps and tastes better than any artisanal bottle you'd find in the States.

After settling in, I hit the city. First stop: Schwarzenbergplatz. A street food festival was going on, and I grabbed some Ćevapčići (Serbian sausages) and fries. Delicious, but way more than I could finish. The food stand owner joked in German that I must be very hungry, rubbing his belly and laughing. I was hungry, starving all through Hungary, and the sausages hit the spot. Afterward, I wandered around the square before heading to the Belvedere for an art exhibit for which I had booked tickets.

The Belvedere itself was breathtaking. It's divided into an Upper and Lower Palace, with beautifully landscaped gardens and marble statues between. As I walked, listening to Mozart — and later Falco — the sense of grandeur built like a crescendo. I showed my ticket to enter the Upper Belvedere, but there was a snag — backpacks had to be stored in a locker, and the lockers required two euro coins, which I didn't have. With no ATM nearby, I had to leave and never got to see the exhibit before it closed at 6 p.m. At first, I was bummed. I'd drawn the Eight of Wands that morning, representing swift action and adapting to change, so I took it in stride and moved on, exploring more of this marvelous city.

In downtown Vienna I found a slice of heaven. I'm not sure you can 100 percent say something was a life-changing experience so soon after after experiencing it, but it sure felt life-changing standing in the shadow of St. Stephen's Cathedral. Seeing the sheer beauty and complexity was stunning, then I thought of the antiquity of the church. It was originally built in 1147, with the current form beginning construction in 1339 and completed in 1365. That church is older than the New World. To build that church (likely) took millions of manhours, decades of men's lives were dedicated to its construction, with no promise that workers and architects would ever see their work come to fruition. I wrote the following while standing under it, "Buildings such as this are so beautiful that they put it all into perspective. I'm nearly at the point of tears once more by the beauty and sheer presence of Vienna's St. Stephen's. Buildings such as this were once among mankind's highest aspirations — generations of men working to bring a slice of heaven to us filthy sinners. God bless those men; God blessed those architects."

It really was stunning. I get how a church can serve as a preview for heaven, replete with songs, incense and encompassing beauty. I circled back to St. Stephen's several times throughout the day and each time, it grew more stunning. I even caught part of a Mass in German. Later, I stumbled across Hofburg Palace as the sun set, got some great photos, and wandered around before attending a string quartet concert at St. Peter's Church. The contrast between the two churches was striking. St. Stephen's is extravagant inside and out, while St. Peter's looks more modest from the outside but is a masterpiece inside. The music in St. Peter's was breathtaking — perfectly filling the elaborate room and making the experience nearly spiritual. The only thing stopping me from crying during the performance was the uncomfortable seating. Even so, I wiped my eyes after the first few songs.

Before the concert, I grabbed dinner at a nearby restaurant. I wrote, "Best meal I've had thus far on this trip. A weird combination of sweet potato, mango, arugula, grilled chicken with a lime crema, but my god was it good!"

Throughout the day, I met a few cool people — the Czech bartender at the MOOONS rooftop bar, who's studying law in Vienna, and a Canadian couple from Alberta who were at the concert with me. The lasting impression Vienna left me with is this: Beauty for beauty's sake is a moral good. Dedicating your life to creating something aesthetically pleasing, whether it is music, architecture or anything else, must be one of the highest forms of sainthood.

As I lay in bed that night under the sky-view windows, the words of the Czech bartender floated back to me: "Prague is way better."