Musical chairs in Melk

Now that was fun!  We just went to a really lovely Abbey. (I'll call the MELK Abbey Third Abbey, because the other 

lovely people with that name are blog readers:  First Abby (Schwartz-Dombrowski) and Second Abby (Gusoff-Rosenberg)

They're named according to when I met them.

So hello to all the dear Abbeys!

This was a magnificent cathedral..all Baroque Ivory(the next trendy Hollywood baby name) and beautiful statues. Our guide was great--Marion, and yes, Marion played librarian during one part of the tour.

She gave us a tour through the courtyard and then it was time to go inside and explore.

We see an imposing staircase made of marble when one of the snails I recognized from another excursion speaks up:

"We are the white group.  We don't do steps."

Marion hustled us into the elevator where it was time to explore everything the Magnificent Melk Abbey has to offer:  stories about snakes shattering chalices filled with poison and stuff like that.

So if you check out this blog to read the Travelogue Karen stuff, I suggest you google "Melk Abbey" since we were forbidden to taken photos anyway.  (Except outdoors--they were great) You'll get all the important info with Google.

But, if you're like me and have the emotional maturity of a five year old, please continue to read.

If you like self deprecating Karen, then this is the blog for you.

Every room we'd enter in this maze of gorgeous rooms was comfortable..and well lit..and airy, but most only had one or two seats.

Which Betty and I coveted equally.

Her cartoon bubble read:  "I am eighty!"

Mine read:  "I had sciatica three years ago!"

(But I did it like Al Pacino, it was more like Sciatica! Sciatica! Sciatica! for those of you old enough to remember "Dog Day Afternoon")

So every time Marion would wrap up her speech and move into the next room, Betty and I would actually break into a sprint if there was only one viewing chair.

I should be ashamed of myself.

I'm not ashamed of myself.

We'd sneer at each other in that passive aggressive "but you're still my buddy" way.

My cartoon bubble practically screamed:  "If only Mr. Monopoly hadn't smoked that cigarette, you'd be using that "Get Out of Jail Free" card by now instead of getting into this tortoise vs. hare race with a sixty-two year old."

Mr. Monopoly mentioned something about Henrietta's dislike of cigarettes too, so Betty might have missed a hook up either way. (Because who is Henrietta and why is she messing with this story?)

A river cruise has been called a "thinking man's" vacation as opposed to an ocean cruise, designed for the drinkers.  (Although there is wine tasting here, coming up in a few)

It really is designed for people who aren't the energizer bunny--whether it's sciatica or age or  needing canes.

So long..farewell..(I'm getting myself psyched for tomorrow's "Sound of Music" adventure)  

"Gentle walker" sounds a lot better than lazy grump.