It's night in Kitzbuhel, a town I didn't know existed 24 hours ago and just had to look up in "Let's Go" to figure out how to spell. I just sent an instant message across the world to my youngest sister, who's never been on a plane let alone out of the country, that said "today we drove in the Alps, rode a cable car, and saw an ice cave." Typing this, it strikes me that my position might be inequitable compared to my siblings, let alone the truly disadvantaged. Some people never leave their country as I add another to the increasingly long list of places I've been, but why? I certainly havent' done anything to deserve these travels...
Then again, does it really matter? I am, they're not, and they should? If I'd found some 9-to-5 drone labor this summer, I wouldn't have been freeing up another spot: there's no "people enjoying adventures quota." Maybe I should do what many at my school do and score an unpaid internship, trading my summer for the privilege of laboring at a blue-chip firm and getting to know established workaholics in my profession so they can defy any shred of meritocracy left in the hiring process by hooking me up with a job I don't deserve in a few years...
If students were to stop applying for internships, the world would be a better place. With their summers instead spent doing charity work (3-month version of the Peace Corps?), traveling, and just destressing, there's be more kids mentored, less xenophobia, and fewer Prozac prescriptions. Companies would survive: there's plenty of cheap Third-World labor and no Vice President has ever suffered irreparable harm from getting his own coffee.
OK: rant over; sorry about that:)
We went Salzburg to Dachstein Ice Caves in our rental car, which was supposed to be super-tiny but were lucky enough to have upgraded for free to a Mitsubishi Spaceship (or some other awe-inspiring name that's basically a slightly stubby and tall sedan. The caves impress, although it's vaguely disappointing to be able to travel through an ice cave without ever stepping on ice because of the concrete path and having every inch of your way illuminated by the built-in lighting system.
What really wowed was the cable car. Ascending a mountain in a tiny vehicle suspended on a cable thinner than you'd think prudent is a breathtaking and somewhat scary experience. The descent's no less unnerving, and it includes earpopping.
Kitzbuhel's a small alpine town, utterly dead on a Thursday night out of ski season. Tom and I split a "boot" (=huge glass shaped like a piece of Western footwear) of beer, as it's the most economical way to down a few pints, in a London-themed bar before returning to the car. It's our bedroom, parked in the posh hotel that is some convenience store's parking lot next door to the bar. Good day, bad bed, and it all evens out.