Another day, another disappointing museum.
The discipline of psychology doesn’t exactly worship Sigmund Freud anymore, but the way I was taught, and as I currently understand his work ,it sheds a unique light on the human mind. Naturally, then, the Freud museum in Vienna piqued my interest. Visiting wasn’t everything I thought it would be, however, since Freud was exiled from Vienna by the Nazi regime of WWII. What he left, of course, was a bare apartment after moving himself and all of his things to England. In the bare apartment, photographs were hung and a museum was opened. If you visit, you can expect to pay a few euros to see this empty apartment with only a few photographs. The famous couch on which Freud performed psychoanalyses isn’t even there. The only artifacts present are some duplications from his collection of (rather appropriately) phallic artwork.
Why do Nazis have to ruin all the fun?
Afterwards, it was nearing my check-out time, so I made my way back to my “hotel” to collect my things and catch a night train to Venice.
Sleeping on trains isn’t as bad as you might think. Although it’s a great way to test how long you could survive in a jail cell (I’m talking immovable window shades), and although you might get paired up with a 60-year-old chain-smoking Czech bus driver like I did*, the novelty of it all makes you feel adventurous rather than miserable. You can expect to spend the night confined to a 6’5″ x 3′ x 3′ box, but if it’s just for one night it’s not so bad.
When I woke up, the view outside the train made it all worth it. The northern-Italian countryside is simply picturesque. A backdrop of hazy mountains line acres and acres of vineyards occasionally dotted with a rustic Itallian villa. It seriously resembles postcards! If I didn’t have other places I wanted to see, I would love to explore Italy more. Save it for the next trip to Europe!
*Who turned out to be a really nice guy, despite the fact that we could barely communicate because of my horrible German.