Leopoldfest and Klosterneuberg

Klosterneuberg 15 Nov. 2011

The famed festival of Leopold is celebrated in Vienna and some of the surrounding areas on November 15^th.  Who is Leopold you might ask?  Well, he is a man commemorated at a time of harvest, and grants the good people of Vienna a holiday but it seems he was not a clergyman but perhaps a reverent man nonetheless.

I had heard a little about this strange holiday.

There was an abundance of stories, tall tales and lies as to what was to take place.  Rumours floated around as to the local and traditional habits.

Some of my colleagues painted fantastical images of barrel rolling and similar shenanigans.  

We agreed to check out the scene and ascertain what exactly this festival involved, as we had a day off school anyway we might as well make use of our free time.

On Monday November 14th there was a small get together at Charlie P’s and some fantastic covers delivered by those hidden stars within our TA group (making use of our free time).

The morning after, I felt a little sluggish but after a bowl of porridge and a mug of tea I was feeling a little better and eager for our midday trip out to Klosterneuberg where we anticipated a day of madness and laughter.  In my mind,  although  I kept my private thoughts to myself, I imagined us stepping off the train and dodging gigantic wooden barrels that thundered down the hill and crashed into unsuspecting mopers disembarking the train.  It would be horrific.  I fretted tripping over the unconscious bodies of those who had arrived earlier equally oblivious to the assault that awaited them.

But at the risk of being ridiculed I said nothing and kept my worries to myself.

We made our way to Franz Josef Bahnhof and purchased our tickets.  While we waited for Jeanine, we bumped into fellow TA, Beau.  Beau had also heard rumours and sought confirmation and closure for his own records.

After a short trip through the countryside we arrived at our destination.  We had been reliably informed to simply ‘follow the crowds’.  There was a thick and obscure fog that morning.  I felt it added to the atmosphere.

We felt around for a bit.  There was quite the carnival ambience, with stalls of games as well as sweet foods and fast food and of course, punsch and gluehwein.  We circumnavigated the carnival, flicking through the stalls, pausing to sample some cheese and other items and checking items of clothing.  I bought some braces.

Beau tried his hand at the claw machine and won Jeanine a beautiful little teddy.  To be fair he should have won several more but he was robbed.  That man has some skills, if ever there was someone who had to have their finger on the button, Beau is your man.

I bought a marzipan spud.  It was a strange little cake that had chocolate, cream and marzipan.  Not what I had come to imagine these confectionary treats to be but it was nice, still tasted good.

Jeanine persuaded me to go on one of the rides and as it looked like we had almost our fill for the day I gave in.

I had not been to a carnival or amusement park in years not since Oktoberfest in 2008.

At Oktoberfest, I braved the Frisbee.  This was exciting for all of 20 seconds.  Then, I had my fill of park rides.

Until now, and they say chivalry is dead.

Jeanine and I ventured over to the ticket seller.  Dietlinde and Beau took a step back offering smiles of encouragement while they readied their cameras.

It cost €3 for a ticket.

We stepped up and boarded the ride. 

We sat down on the Big Wave ride.

There was no turning back.

I felt my pulse quicken.

I watched as other adrenaline junkies stepped up to the mark.

Most of them were kids, I felt my heart quiver in fear for them.

The bars came down and slowly the ride began to build momentum.

The first few circles were bearable but as the speed increased I felt my stomach tear from my abdomen.

My rear lifted from the seat and I was sure, in those milliseconds I was certain I would meet my end.

There were times, I heard Jeanine speak but it was a distant whisper compared to the clatter in my head.

It felt as though the ride last 10 minutes.  It felt more but I would have to make a conservative estimate of 10 minutes.

After 30 seconds I wanted off.

When it slowed to a halt I was relieved that neither I nor any of the other riders had died.  My heart skipped a beat.

I struggled to my feet and limped over to the gang a brave look upon my face.

The camera, I was sure, would have captured every second of my ordeal and there on digital file would be the many anguished faces I displayed.

As luck would have it they were all blurred.

After that the gang bought some wurst and we were on our way.

Well, after some quizzical wandering and a few inquiries we found the infamous barrel rolling.  However, after some queuing, nature calls and loitering we agreed (on principle) that none of us were to part with the cost to participate.

We waited for the train but agreed to meet later for dinner.

Our adventure had provided answers to questions previously posed but I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that my nightmarish idea of Leopoldfest was nothing of the sort.  Still, it was a fun day and I had my braces.

The next day it was business as usual.