If you’re going to go somewhere, first you have to leave somewhere. Makes sense don’t it. To get to Belgium first I had to get out of the Netherlands. And the Netherlands is a funny place, all flat and below sea-level, 10 metres of dikes holding back the ocean to the north and all these little canals wandering around the place like an odd relative at a family gathering, who everyone can see but no one admits is actually there.

Last Exit to the Netherlands

Another impossible angle in Amsterdam

Well you can see them, but it’s their everywhereness that ultimately makes these canals almost invisible after a time.

But that’s not what gets me from the road – it’s that the “built” Nederlande landscape all looks like its been made in the last 20 minutes (well, except for the photocopy and repeat tall licorice-allsort terraces in the city centres). It’s kinda like you’re stuck in some architect’s idea of an over-ambitious airport terminal, which adds up to an excess of architectural statements all over the place.

“See here, I made this” (covered in green glazed glass).

“Look, another impossibly acute angle at the edge of a building” (which nearly takes your eye off even the freeway).

“Not enough room? See how I effortlessly straddle this canal” (for the buildings on stilts that step over obstacles).

Even the common garden-variety shed looks like it just landed from some neighbouring solar system, leaving the place looking like a Looney Tunes idea of Legoland – all paint-on roads and urban spaces with not a right angle to be seen in the post-psychedelic meltdown of it all.

Go rural, go Belgium

Heading away from the northern ports, Rotterdam being Europe’s largest, where the huge metal crabs lay on their backs ready for arriving container ships - or maybe they were just cargo cranes and I had been letting the old hair down a bit hard with all those “coffees”. Anyway, so the metal crabs and the giraffes play by the seaside, meanwhile the urban sprawl remains unrelenting to the Belgian border. The architectural angles remain obtuse and the land flat and wide, but then enter Belgium – it’s a welcome surprise. It’s like someone dropped a flag that said “Go rural!” and then things go all back a few years to when innovation didn’t just mean Brand New.

Belgium is a change of pace, shifting back a few gears as the landscape slides into Belgium, which only became independent from the Netherlands back in 1831. It’s got a more “country” kinda feel to it, the train stations look like they haven’t changed in 30 years, the villages and cottages look as though they used to be housing for farmers who got about puffing on their pipes of tobacco. It’s like a dose of reality where the old and the new are a bit more integrated.

The northern half, Flanders (or Vlaanderen, as its known in the local version of Dutch, although some people might try and sneak some French in too), is your entry to Belgium. Now that you’re here, and if it’s a little moment away you fancy, then perhaps Ghent is the place for you today?

Gentse Feesten: More fun than you can poke a stick at

It’s a quiet old town, all bricks and mortar with none of that fancy looming glass and steel creations they are fond of over the border. It’s a University town, but smaller than somewhere like Leuven. That doesn’t mean its crawling with dreadlocked students. Ghent is a relaxed place that’s very easy on the eyes - it’s got loads of nice architectural touches and details, cobblestone streets and canals, hushed open spaces and quaint back lanes. The buses here are on electric leashes, tying them to overhead power lines - I’m starting to get used to seeing them but it still feels like a public transport system that could break free just about any moment.

Gentse Feesten?
It’s Belgian for beer, mate

If the buses did manage to run amok, then it’d be straight to the cafés to sample some of the famous Belgian beer, Duvel, which I’ve heard is Flemish for ‘devil’ even though it is made by Trappist Monks. It is a nice strong little number (starting at 8%) that’ll have everyone your friend in 10 minutes or less. A couple of Duvels and even the coldest winter will melt away into obscurity. If the monk’s beers have you inspired in a religious direction then there’s no shortage of places to go – set out on the plein (that’s Flemish for plaza) and then choose from the three grand cathedrals listing at your feet, before or after your alcoholic inspiration. These buildings are enough to make you believe in something bigger even if it might just be a festival of colossal proportions.

Gentse Feesten is that festival. It runs this year between 19-28 July, which is, as they might always say, 10 days and 10 nights. I’ve heard say that the days are almost an excuse for the near out-of-control craziness of the nights… one party just cut and mixed into the other. Within this great snarling beast of a festival there are several smaller festivals, or sub-festivals if that makes you feel more diverse.

Rest easy, finger puppetry is on the Gentse Feesten agenda

For example, Ghent is known for its theatre, including some well-supported experimental theatre, and holds a street theatre festival within the Gentse Feesten, which as you can imagine takes in places all over town. How about a comedy festival, or a puppet busking festival? There is also a techno festival, Ten Days Off, and a jazz festival (no less than the famous Blue-Note), just so if you fancy you can chop and change between boom-boom and da-ti-dah (like boom-ti da-ti-dah-boomda).

And if you’re still charging after midnight, then as the bigger parties get closed down piece by piece, there’s a more exotic quarter that starts up round 4am and goes through til 9am. Just in time for work when you have to rock up to the day-events. The final day is called the Day of Empty Pockets, as everyone has spent all the hard earned of course, which probably goes to include faculties of thought. At over 2 million attendees over the festival, there’s bound to be more than a few empty pockets.

-Jack Brown

Planning a trip? Browse Viator’s tours in Amsterdam, the Netherlands, and things to do in Belgium.

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Imagine my surprise: I got on a train in Bratislava, Slovakia, bound for Vienna, Austria — the land of mountains and snow, high lakes and skiing skiing skiing!

Austria: More than just Alps

But out the window all I saw was flat land. As far as the eye could see, it was flat. And covered in wind turbines generating electricity. What was going on? Was I on the wrong train? Lesson number one about Austria: it’s not all alps. Eastern Austria (officially called Lower Austria), bordering Slovakia, is in fact flat – hence the name, I guess. Another time, I approached Austria by train from Slovenia, headed to Graz. Slovenia was mountainous and gorgeous, we hit Austria and suddenly it was flat! So, south-eastern Austria: also flat. As, apparently is some of the north.

It’s the centre and western Austria , including the south-west, which contains the Alps. The area with Salzburg in it. And it is magnificent. Flying over this part of Austria is magical. You feel like you can reach out and touch the snow blanketing the ragged peaks. Like you want to jump into its gleaming white softness – or maybe not…

Why & how have I visited Austria so many times?

Austria was never a country I thought about visiting. It had none of the big attractions I’d dreamt of – I don’t ski, you see, and I got over the Spanish riding school horses around the age of 12. Mozart was so jammed down my throat at school that I think I deliberately set out to avoid his hometown. Then again, when I studied art history I loved the work of the Vienna Secessionists, and I am obsessed with chocolate. Why was it not on my list?

Anyway, suddenly I was living and working in Bratislava, Slovakia, and I was a little culinarily challenged – try being a vegetarian and having to eat pasta with sugar for lunch! (I do I love Bratislava in other ways, though.) But Vienna was just up the road by train and I was sure that I’d find a feast for a vegetarian easily enough. My first surprise was the train itself: one carriage – could this be right? Yes, the two cities are so close, it was like catching a small commuter shuttle, but with a border crossing in the middle. (A note: if you book a cheap flight to Vienna they often land you at Bratislava airport and then it’s a bus to Vienna itself – takes about an hour and they are quite regular.)

My second surprise was discovering Vienna Sudbahnhof train station is not right in the middle of the old town; imagine! I came out of the entrance and had no idea where the centre of town was; I had to ask. Talk about being ill-prepared! A nice man pointed me in the right direction, gave me the look that told me I was extremely strange and then walked away, fast. But I found the centre of town and it was beautiful. As was the walk past the Botanical Gardens and Schloss Belvedere to get there – definitely worth a visit.

Old Vienna, I do love thee

Old Vienna is contained within the ring road and you can just wander and wonder at its beauty and history. Also the hot chocolate is very good. As are the shops. I found a great little market (Spittalberg Market), just by following my nose and stocked up on lots of delicious treats to last me the week. Grocery shopping in another country: how decadent! Then it was back on the train to Bratislava.

The next time I got hungry, I went up to Vienna by boat along the Danube River. This promised to be romantic but wasn’t really – the boat was very serviceable and not made for viewing as much as getting you from A to B. But we did pass through some locks on the river which always makes it exciting! Again, I landed nowhere near the centre but this time I was more prepared and caught the Metro – very easy to negotiate. Like a creature of habit I returned to the same charming outdoor market, bought food, then wandered around the magnificent museum quarter appreciating the architecture.

Vienna is beautiful. I was propelled there by hunger, next time I will take the time to actually stay and see the sights more thoroughly. I do regret not going to the Spanische Hofreitschule (Spanish Riding School) but it was July and August and the horses, being typical Europeans, take their summer holidays then. But next time I will definitely indulge my 11- year-old self: you’re never too old to spoil the kid inside.

What?! Graz is beautiful

My next visit to Austria was to Graz in the south-east. I was spending a weekend at the fabulous and eccentric Bad Blumau Spa resort about an hour’s drive outside Graz and caught the train there from Croatia.

Graz and its beautiful river

Graz is beautiful! I had no expectation, only a few hours to kill but I am so pleased I have been to that town. It is the second-biggest city in Austria at a population of about 250,000 and has UNESCO World Heritage status. I think it might be the prettiest town centre I have ever seen, with colourful and quirky Renaissance, Baroque and modern buildings. It also has an amazing cultural life with festivals, opera and galleries galore. The modern Kunsthaus (art house) is known as the Friendly Alien and does indeed look like a blob of a spaceship has landed in the midst of the historic buildings. And inside the gallery spaces are great, showing impressive exhibitions of international art. It’s next to the river, and suspended in the middle of the river, overlooked by the looming hill of the Schlossberg, is the Murinsel, a manmade ‘island’ of metal and plastic where you can drink a coffee, see a show or let the kids play. Magic!

To really see Graz, you must climb the Schlossberg, or, if you like strange public transport as much as I do, catch the glass lift from Schlossbergplatz, then catch the funicular back down. Don’t miss the famous clock which overlooks the town: the Uhrturm.

I also have to recommend at visit to the spa at Bad Blumau. If just for the crazy architecture. Designed by the famous Austrian architect Hundertwasser (1928-2000) (who ended his days in New Zealand), it does not have one straight line in it. Even the bottom of the walls curve and wave; it can be quite disconcerting after an hour floating in the thermal pools. But to see these crazy, colourful, organic buildings in this rural setting is fabulous. And, as a bonus, you get to have massages, lie in the sun, and float in thermal waters or play in the wave pool. Did I mention that grass grows over the top of many of the buildings? Or that there is a forest of plaques naming all the people who got married there. A lovely place. You can reach it from either Vienna or Graz - they even sent a driver to pick us up from Graz.

Salzburg - finally, the Alps

Salzburg, so many things to do

My final Austrian city experience is Salzburg. Hello Alps. And lakes. I arrived there by train from Munich – a nice journey that passes through some great scenery. Salzburg is another experience again – smaller (145,000), quainter, dominated by churches and with the white Festung Hohensalzburg castle overlooking it all – which by the way you can travel up to by Funicular – yay!

Another cultural city with a great modern art gallery on a cliff above the town; visit the restaurant there for a meal with a hard to beat view. I was told there is a civic program in Salzburg which enables local artists to live and work in the castle which makes me feel very warmly towards the local government. Sadly, I believe it is only for Austrians but I may investigate further.

Salzburg is a great place for taking tours out into the Alps and seeing lakes and mountains and small pretty villages. Also cows, if you like cows, which I do.

Naturally Mozart has a big presence in Salzburg – he lived here for the first 17 years of his life. I relented on my school-scarred attitude and ate Mozart Balls – great chocolates. I admit I did not visit his houses though I walked past them often. It really is a battle of the musical greats throughout Salzburg; Mozart and the von Trapp family vie for greatest number of souvenirs and tours. I fear the von Trapps and The Sound of Music win. Alas for high culture. (See my other blog for a shameful wallow in the joys of that film …)

So, that is my Austria – a country I inexplicably forgot for so many years then visited three times in 18 months. And loved.

-Philippa Burne

* Apologies to Linz…

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Editor’s Note: Recently we’ve been hearing a lot about ’staycations’. So we asked Viator’s founder (Rod) and one of Viator’s most travel-loving staffers (Kelly) to ponder the following resolution. Resolved: That staycations are the new hot trend in travel. In true Lincoln-Douglas debate style Kelly argues the affirmative, Rod argues the negative. (What, you didn’t take debate in high school?)

The Case for Staycations

“With the price of gas soaring, a staycation is what most Americans
will experience during the summer of 2008…”
–Urbandictionary.com

I am not one to argue against heading out of town for a trip away, for an escape from the cares of home life. I do it plenty of times a year myself. But I also acknowledge that, unlike Rod, not all of us are jet-set company chairmen who can afford to take off on a whim. Airline travel is dreary at best, downright aggravating at worst. Gas prices are skyrocketing, and have you been in weekend Bay Area traffic lately?

I admit the rewards for all the security lines and grouchy flight attendants can be immense once you’ve arrived and are enjoying lying on a tropical beach or rambling through an interesting neighborhood, but the motivation can be hard to summon up. And, to being with, we’re all busy people with fairly meager amounts of vacation time.

Staycation pro: Kelly saw this SF transit mural for the very first time

I almost always travel the weekend before or after my birthday. Mostly, it is to avoid having a birthday party, which I view as a horrible punishment for turning a year older. But this year, I just couldn’t get away, friends are visiting and I am traveling over the 4th of July holiday instead. But I really, really wanted to be on vacation. Having heard so much about staycations lately I decided to give it a go.

I admit mine might be an extreme form of staycation, I think generally people travel a bit, to a nearby big city or national park or something like that. I chose to embark on a staycation tour of San Francisco, specifically a MP3 walking tour of the Castro & Mission that starts three blocks from my house, at 14th St and Market, so close that I had just finished the two-minute intro to the tour by the time I walked there from my door. Partially I chose it because the tour covers the Castro, San Francisco’s famous gay neighborhood, and last weekend was Pride, a celebration of all things LGBT in San Francisco.

Overall the tour was great, I won’t spoil all the details, but I learned a lot about the history of a neighborhood I walk through all the time. I saw murals I had no idea existed (shamefully, I have walked past one of them maybe a dozen times), climbed up hills I normally am not motivated to scale, and toured the inside of Mission Dolores, which I had never entered. I took lots of photos. And I had a surprising amount of fun. The MP3 tour was superb, really good directions and commentary –it even motivated me to tackle a big hill that I thought I might just skip over. There are places I walk past all the time and think someday I’ll go in there or check that street out, and I finally did.

On the down side, walking past your dry cleaners and remembering you have a sweater to pickup is not quite embracing the vacation spirit. To get away from it all, you physically have to get away from it all or there are reminders around every corner of things to do. I really enjoyed my MP3 tour, and if budgets or time are tight, I’d do something like it again, but I don’t think I achieved the total sense of wonder and bliss that a really good vacation stimulates.