A Group Tour of Germany, Austria, Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Hungary for National Day
1. Prague, Once Cherished but Later Abandoned by God
To be honest, this trip was largely for Czech Republic and Prague. I've been to Western Europe twice, but Eastern Europe still feels mysterious and romantic to me. Mention Prague, and for most people, the first things that come to mind are Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being," the film "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" (French: L'Insoutenable Légèreté de l'être), the "Prague Spring" music festival, and the dramatic political "Prague Spring" event (I believe friends born in the 1960s like me remember more the political event, which was repeatedly drilled into us as a typical lesson against peaceful evolution when we were children). Kundera and Kaufman made Prague the most prominent landmark in world literature, a dream city that attracts both true hipsters and those of us middle-aged "pseudo-hipsters."
Before departure, I read travel tips from netizens and learned that Prague often rains, with about a quarter of October being rainy. During our stay in Prague, we hardly saw any sun; the sky was either gray or rainy. However, the rain was light and didn't affect our sightseeing. On the contrary, I think appreciating Prague's beauty in the rain is the most fitting. As tourists, we only visited the old town of Prague. Because the Czech Republic surrendered to Nazi Germany during WWII, Prague was spared war's devastation, leaving a complete ancient city for the world. Personally, I think the entire old city is even more beautiful than Paris. The continuous ancient buildings cover various architectural styles: Baroque, Renaissance Romanesque, Gothic, and many more. Hardly any two buildings are alike, making it a feast for the eyes. Among them, Gothic and Baroque are the most numerous and famous, mostly old tower structures with spires or domes. The towering church spires cluster together, earning Prague the nickname "City of a Thousand Spires." Perhaps due to economic reasons, Prague hasn't completely renovated and restored all its ancient buildings like Paris, leaving them with an initial impression of historical vicissitudes. The entire old town of Prague, as a World Heritage site, truly did not disappoint. My Prague trip told me that God once deeply favored this city but later abandoned it; she could not resist the march of history and could only endure silently. The splendid castle and the worn streets and buildings create such a stark contrast. To me, Prague is like a fading beauty. Her grandeur completely conquered me. Her beauty took my breath away, and her romantic aura has deeply permeated everyone's bones, making it impossible to resist, beautiful beyond imagination. Standing at the old castle on the hilltop (Prague Castle has a history of over 1,000 years, 570 meters long, 130 meters wide on average, claimed to be the world's largest castle), you can overlook the colorful old town of Prague, the winding Vltava River, and the faintly visible Charles Bridge. You can't help but wonder how many spires of the "City of a Thousand Spires" pierce the sky? The scattered ancient streets resemble my hometown of Suzhou's old town but are much more majestic and bold than Suzhou's gentle elegance. Since it was a group tour, we could only visit a few main attractions. Most of the time, we admired Prague's streets and buildings from the bus, just "sightseeing by bus." Whenever we passed a cobblestone old street or a weathered old building, I would recall the old streets and alleys of Suzhou where I grew up, half-expecting that around these street corners might emerge a Czech "lilac" holding an umbrella, and whether a beautiful story had once happened there.
In Prague, I personally think the most worthwhile place is the Old Town Square, which houses the oldest and most unique astronomical clock in Europe. This square is actually very small, incomparable to our Tiananmen Square; it might even be smaller than the square in front of some township governments in China. But when you stand there, surrounded by ancient buildings, you might momentarily feel like you've traveled back to the Middle Ages. Because it was raining, there were no dancing Bohemian girls on the square, but there was a middle-aged man elegantly playing the saxophone in the rain, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding tourists and noisy vendors. Raindrops kept falling on him (unfortunately, he wasn't playing the famous "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head"), but it didn't affect his seriousness. There was no box of coins in front of him; perhaps it was just self-indulgence or intoxication. I've heard that Prague is known as the second music capital of Europe after Vienna, and it seems true. On Old Town Square, we didn't follow the local guide's instructions to go shopping. Instead, we chose to ride a classical four-wheeled carriage pulled by two horses (30 euros per carriage, about a 20-minute ride around the square). Our two couples shared one carriage. The experienced old horse pulled us leisurely through the old streets around the square; the horse's hooves clattered on the cobblestones, the carriage bell rang—at that moment, you could completely imagine yourself as a medieval knight or noble—perhaps that's what fairy tales are like. Through various "gaps" in the streets, we could glimpse the Prague Castle, the Jan Hus Monument, the Prague Opera House, St. Mary's Cathedral, and various luxury brand stores under the ancient buildings—it seems this is also a major shopping area. The rain continued. After getting off the carriage, the various food stalls on the square immediately attracted us. In the cold rain, we ordered a fresh Pilsner draught beer, reportedly the best in the Czech Republic, and it tasted great. It was only 20 korunas for a 0.5L glass (about 7 RMB, cheap!). At the same time, we bought a lot of grilled meat and other snacks. Eating hot and cold together didn't cause any discomfort; maybe European environment is particularly nourishing? Haha! I was a bit of a foreign-worshipper. Unfortunately, there were no chairs by the round tables at the stalls, so we had to stand, slowly savoring the delicious food while leisurely observing the bustling crowds. The surrounding hotels were very busy; many customers under the awnings, like us, were drinking coffee or beer and chatting softly. If there weren't so many tourists, we could have completely immersed ourselves in the Middle Ages. Before us, history suddenly became so profound—everything was so real yet sometimes so illusory.
(TIPS: Moser, a famous store selling Bohemian crystal glass on the square, was highly recommended by the local guide. But personally, I think it's skippable. Everyone gets a card with a group number; we all know what that means. It's full of Japanese tourists, and the prices are very expensive—at least twice as much as the crystal glass store we later went to on Wenceslas Square.)
To be honest, this group tour overturned some of my previous biases against tour guides (see my 2007 article on Ctrip, "Australia Group Tour"). Our entire tour guide, Guide G, was indeed good—no hints or forced optional tours or shopping. But the only local guide—Guide H in Prague—made our entire group quite unhappy. This Guide H was a Chinese person living in Prague for many years. On the way, he kept instilling the idea that "if you have money, you have to spend it," making us suspect if he was laying groundwork for later shopping. At Charles Bridge, when we wanted to walk toward the Old Town Square at the other end of the bridge (because we saw many small shops there), he strongly opposed it, saying that end was very chaotic and even said, "There are all bad people there." We are all adults, and we hadn't heard such childish words for a long time. Of course, we still walked that way. It turned out to be just some stores selling tourist souvenirs, and their prices were much cheaper than those later recommended by Guide H's Moser store—one reason we didn't shop at Moser. On the roadside, there were many black men holding signs promoting Vltava river cruises. The whole cruise, including drinks and snacks, cost 190 korunas (about 6.3 euros). This optional activity was also on our itinerary, but priced at 25 euros (supposedly including a reservation fee). After discussing with other group members and considering specific issues like transportation time, we decided to join Guide H's 25-euro cruise. After spending so much money on the trip, 25 euros didn't matter—only 250 RMB. In the cold wind and rain, our group of 30, young and old, followed Guide H on a nearly 40-minute walk to the dock and boarded what Guide H called our chartered boat, only to be chased off by the boatman, who said they had received no notice and couldn't sail. Frustrated! We then continued in the rain with Guide H from Pier 3 all the way to Pier 7, but Guide H still couldn't sort it out! Another half hour passed, and we were still waiting in the cold rain, hoping to board a boat for a hot cup of coffee to warm our tired bodies. Still no result. During the long wait, I took a moment to directly ask a boatman by the river. He was very polite, and upon hearing we had 30 people, he directly quoted 150 korunas (5 euros)! But by then, we had lost patience in the cold. Finally, we erupted: an aunt from Shanghai was the first to propose canceling the cruise and returning. After democratic discussion, we unanimously agreed to cancel this optional activity, but Guide H said we had to pay a reservation cancellation fee of 10 euros per person. A reservation fee for a booking that hadn't been made? Nobody responded to him; he just raved on alone. So I suggest that if time permits, it's better to join a river cruise on your own.
2. Thoughts on Nagy in Budapest
When mentioning Hungary, people generally think of Sándor Petőfi's famous poem: "Life is precious, love is dearer; for freedom, both can be tossed aside" (in Chinese, renowned for its translation). But as a middle-aged person with experience of the Cultural Revolution, I first think of the Petőfi Club and the Hungarian Uprising and Imre Nagy. I always feel that the Hungarian Uprising had a huge impact on New China. Before the Cultural Revolution, Liu Shaoqi and Deng Xiaoping's policy of "household contracting" was very similar to Nagy's plan of "feed the people first." But because of this, they were branded as "traitors, spies, and scabs." During the 1976 Tiananmen Incident, Deng Xiaoping was directly labeled "China's Nagy" and was purged again. Fortunately, Deng finally had the chance to implement his reform and opening-up ideas. But Hungary's Nagy did not have that fortune. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, socialist countries in Europe fell like dominoes, largely because the people did not get the life they imagined and wanted, thus demanding political and regime change. The reason China was able to maintain its political system steadily is that the clever Deng Xiaoping, like a skilled surgeon, first made a not-too-large incision in political reform, writing the prescription of "socialism with Chinese characteristics." Then he administered strong medicine for economic reform while patching up the political system's gap. With the economy improving and people's basic needs met, time and capital were gained for gradual political reform. Imre Nagy, the central figure of the 1956 Hungarian Uprising, has long been underappreciated in China, existing in people's minds as a "counter-revolutionary." Nagy was born in 1896, served as Prime Minister from 1953 to 1955, and again from October 24 to November 4, 1956. During the 1956 Uprising, he announced Hungary's neutrality and withdrawal from the Warsaw Pact. On October 23, 1956, Soviet tanks invaded Hungary, crushing this political reform. From then on, Hungary became an economic colony of the Soviet Union. From June 9 to 15, 1958, the Hungarian People's Court conducted a secret trial of Nagy and others, and on June 16, they were sentenced to death for "treason" and other charges. In 1989, Hungary rehabilitated Nagy and reburied him. From July 1953 to early 1955, Nagy implemented a series of reform measures in the economic, political, and cultural fields to correct and solve the problems and shortcomings exposed by the Soviet model in Hungary. The main purpose was to ease the increasingly tense relations between the state and society and improve people's living standards. Measures included: changing the over-concentration of party power, strengthening legislative and administrative authority; improving the legal system, restoring socialist legality, rehabilitating unjust cases; modifying the national economic development direction, reducing the pace of heavy industry, increasing investment in agriculture and light industry; encouraging private individual economy, opening markets, promoting urban-rural commodity circulation; improving people's production and living conditions through wage increases, price cuts, tax reductions, housing construction; adjusting intellectual policies, improving their political and economic treatment; increasing education investment; showing tolerance for religious affairs, etc. From this, we can see that Nagy was quite forward-looking, and his policies were very consistent with China's reform and opening-up starting in 1978. His theories were finally realized 30 years later in China, another socialist country, by Deng Xiaoping. We can comfort this reform pioneer!
We entered Hungary from Austria. Once across the border, we saw rows of residential buildings in the distance, looking very familiar—just like the residential buildings in China in the 1980s. "Socialist countries seem to have only one architect"—that was our consensus. Of course, Budapest still showed its charming face through the Danube River. The Parliament Building on the left bank, the Royal Palace on the right bank, the Chain Bridge embracing the Danube, the lively Pest, and the elegant, quiet Buda—these elements together form a pearl on the Danube. However, I also saw another side of Budapest. The collapse of the Soviet Union left a huge spiritual vacuum in this country, long controlled under socialism. Like Prague, the streets and walls here are covered with various slogans and graffiti, reportedly about freedom and democracy, even on the magnificent ancient buildings. The overall architecture of Budapest looks even shabbier than Prague's, leading us to conclude that Hungary's economy hasn't fully developed since leaning toward the West. There's still a long way to go to realize Nagy's dream. It seems China is ahead of them.
Personally, I think the most worth seeing in Budapest is the Fisherman's Bastion, built in neo-Romantic style on medieval city walls. In the Middle Ages, this was the wall of the fish market and the Fishermen's Guild, hence its name. From here, you can see the Parliament Building on the other side and the bridges across the Danube—a perfect observation deck. It was built in 1895, not very historically ancient, but it's a landmark of Budapest and so beautiful! Unfortunately, the adjacent Hilton Hotel, reportedly built in the 1980s as one of Budapest's few luxury hotels, clashes completely with the Bastion's style. I wonder how the planning department approved it—could there be the same unspoken rules as in China? Unknown. Budapest's beauty is condensed in understated ordinariness; the slightly dimmed buildings along the streets are quite ingenious. This simple, serene beauty is the millennium-old charm of this small Eastern European country. The clanking old trams, the timeworn castles and churches—everything hints that this is a city for nostalgia and romance, though the golden age of the former empire has long passed. In 1984, it was rated the quietest capital city.
The tour of Budapest was indeed hurried. Like all tourist groups and attractions, there was no time to breathe. As the guide put it, we had to "complete the itinerary"—he had to hit all the listed sights; otherwise, there would be complaints. So time discipline was tight. Any individual's lateness would affect the whole group's schedule and attract frowns and complaints from others. Unfortunately, in Budapest, I became such a "target of complaint." It happened at the entrance of St. Stephen's Basilica. According to the itinerary, we only had 20 minutes—just enough to walk around inside and out. But that day was Sunday, and close to 10 a.m., many believers poured into the church for mass. From information, I knew that Budapest's economic development level is somewhat behind cities like Beijing and Shanghai; ordinary people's material life is not as good as residents in our big cities. But from the believers attending mass, I could see they were all carefully groomed. Perhaps the fabric and brands of their clothes weren't high-end, but they were very neat. The women were made up, the men mostly in suits and ties. Their demeanor was pious, peaceful, and content. They regarded mass as a very important activity. At 10 a.m. (which was already our assembly and departure time, but I was still in the church holding my breath), the church bells chimed, doves flew over the square, priests filed out inside, lights focused on the second floor, and the choir sang praises I didn't know, accompanied by a huge pipe organ. I'm not a Christian and had never attended mass before, but at that moment, I felt a holy aura burst from my heart. The high dome reflected the choir's melodious music, sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, seeming like a passage leading souls to heaven. Everything was peaceful around me. I felt my soul being purified and experienced supreme satisfaction and joy. Recalling what I've seen abroad, those with religious beliefs, whether in wealthy Europe and America or in poor Indonesia or Thailand, mostly wear calm and content expressions. But on the streets or subways of Shanghai, you see faces heavy with worry and anxiety. You might say life pressure is high in big cities, but pressure exists everywhere; the key is one's mindset. Many people in our country have fallen into a terrible view of wealth and life, making money the sole goal, busy running around all day, "hustling and bustling for profit." They have no time or energy to converse with their own hearts or examine their souls. At such times, I think communist education alone is not enough; religious support is needed. After all, religion can help reorganize society, aid the growth of most people, and purify hearts. Our weary souls indeed need frequent cleansing to maintain a peaceful heart, a compassionate heart, and a heart of harmony, equality, and sharing. This is what Buddhism calls the "joyful mind."
(TIPS: From netizens' travel tips before departure, we learned that a Hungarian local red wine called "Bull's Blood" is famous. So we bought some at TESCO hypermarket to take home, about 40 RMB per bottle, quite good. Worth buying.)
3. Home of Swarovski: When mentioning Austria, the first thing that comes to my mind is one of my two favorite Western classical music masters—Mozart (the other being Tchaikovsky from Russia). From the moment I entered Austria, Mozart's Symphony No. 40 kept playing in my mind. The famous waltzes by Johann Strauss were always further back in my ranking. Vienna was the political center of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and remains the eternal geographical center of Europe. We arrived in Vienna in the evening; the whole city was bathed in golden sunset. Naturally, we couldn't skip taking photos in front of the Strauss statue. At that moment, the blood-red setting sun shone through the leaves onto the golden statue of Strauss playing the violin, making him look more like a saint, less worldly. We visited famous sights one by one under the guide's lead: the Royal Opera House, the Golden Hall (Musikverein), the Parliament Building, the City Hall, Schönbrunn Palace, Hofburg Palace—all indeed magnificent. I won't share photos here because there are too many descriptions and pictures online. The story of Princess Sisi is just a beautiful memory for us middle-aged people.
Austria is a country born for music. It tells the world about the winding Danube, the tales of the dark Vienna Woods, the passionate "Voices of Spring." And of course, the exquisite Swarovski crystals. Since the Swarovski factory is near Innsbruck, prices are 25-33% cheaper than in China, and can be half off during Christmas. During this trip, we went to an A&M duty-free shop recommended by the travel agency in Vienna (I'm not their promoter). Swarovski crystals there: 2% discount for credit card purchases, 5% discount for cash, based on the unified price in the Swarovski catalog—this was verified in later shopping. So it's worth buying there. I also suggest bringing some euro cash for convenience. The later Swarovski headquarters store in Innsbruck didn't offer any discount. Of course, this store had fewer styles and relatively older models. But that didn't dampen our shopping desire; crystal pendants costing tens of euros are indeed the best souvenir gifts to bring back to friends and family—convenient to carry. On the second floor, there was a Swarovski sub-brand very worth buying. The craftsmanship and crystal are the same as the main brand, but without the swan on the clasp. There are many necklaces at 20, 30, 40 euros. This sub-brand is also available in Innsbruck with more variety.
(Shopping TIPS: Next to St. Stephen's Cathedral in Vienna is the shopping street, with many world top brands like LV, Gucci, etc. If time permits, it's worth a visit.)
4. European Small Towns Like Paintings
On this trip, partly due to the itinerary arrangement and perhaps accommodation costs, besides visiting several must-see World Heritage small towns like Karlovy Vary (spa town), Český Krumlov, Innsbruck, Salzburg, etc., most of the hotels we stayed at were in or near small towns near attractions. So this trip could also be called a European small town tour. Actually, my biggest gain from this European trip was discovering the beauty of European small towns. The small towns left a deeper impression than the famous ancient buildings in cities—every angle of each small town is a painting, a beautiful picture worthy of a calendar or postcard. Big European cities are symbols of Western civilization, but the countryside villages and small towns we passed through were even more charming. They are more attractive because of their peace, serenity, and tranquility. Such remote small towns preserve more European culture. Their traditional atmosphere exudes a rich fragrance in these quiet corners. The locals maintain their old-world charm, calm and unruffled. Various trendy things seem inadvertently kept outside the town, with only shop windows revealing a hint of commodity economy. On a quiet night in such a beautiful small town hotel, you can even hear your own heartbeat, talk to God in the nearby church, and the clear empty night sky gives you an urge to merge into it. In the scarce free time in these small towns, we also went out for a few walks and found that the local residents live a tranquil, leisurely life, aloof from worldly strife. Every windowsill was full of flowers. Looking through the windows, their homes were as refined, tidy, and cozy as those of city dwellers. There is no hustle and bustle of urban traffic, no troubles of complex interpersonal relationships. On Sunday mornings, people dress up and go to church (every small town has a spire or onion dome of a church; most churches are built in a quiet corner of the town, surrounded by greenery—without it, the town's existence is incomplete). They also chat briefly with neighbors. It suddenly occurred to me that the socialist harmonious society and new socialist countryside construction that our country is vigorously promoting ultimately aim for such an idyllic scene. It shows that although social systems are different, people's values and views on life are still similarly connected. Any artificially imposed forced changes and restrictions will be spurned and punished by history. The gap between China's countryside and cities is currently widening. It seems our task ahead is still heavy; perhaps it will take decades to achieve Chairman Mao's long-envisioned goal of "eliminating the three major differences."
Among these small towns, the foremost is naturally the World Heritage town of Český Krumlov. Coming from Suzhou, another World Heritage site, I felt a special familiarity. Looking from the town's tower (you can go up; admission is about 2 euros—very cheap in Europe, but usually not included in group tours—worth paying for): green mountains embrace it, the Vltava River winds around, lush green hills dotted with orange rooftops. Among the rooftops rise the castle tower and church spires, arranged in a picturesque, well-proportioned manner like a huge oil painting carefully composed by an artist. The streets are paved with cobblestones. On both sides of the street are shops: toy stores, gift shops, jewelry stores, hotels, restaurants, bars, even a weapon shop. The most distinctive was a handmade bread roll shop (I forgot the name of this sweet dough ring; about 16 RMB each, very fragrant and soft when freshly baked). The shop is very small; the storefront is just a wooden window. Inside, only one handsome young man makes dough rings by hand, and a woman bakes them. They both wore medieval traditional clothing. When I took the bread, I really felt an illusion of being in ancient Europe. If time allows or if you skip the group meal, you can choose the "Cave Restaurant" (Krcma v satlavske) at Homi 157—just in an alley diagonally opposite the Shanghai Restaurant. Locals generally know it. Inside, it has a cellar-like vaulted ceiling, stone walls, feeling like a cave. A huge oven, crackling wood grilling various meats, meat juices dripping on charcoal—truly delicious. The garlic soup is worth trying, served in a hollowed hard bread roll; it's not spicy from garlic, just a little sweet. It reminds me of the story of Lenin eating "ink bottles."
Salzburg, the birthplace of music genius Mozart, is naturally a must-visit. With only 150,000 inhabitants, Salzburg is Austria's fourth-largest city, nestled in the Alps. The old town of Salzburg was inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1996.
Standing on the bridge, you see a clear, rushing river below—a tributary of the Danube called the Salzach River. Salzburg is in western Austria, the gateway to the Alps. The city's architecture is mainly Baroque. It has a long history. Worth visiting is Hohensalzburg Fortress, the old castle of Salzburg. From a distance, it looks even more majestic and impressive than Neuschwanstein Castle, with an air of impregnable strength. It is said that Hohensalzburg Fortress has never been conquered since its completion. We chose to take the cable car up to the castle, also an optional activity. The round-trip cable car ticket was about 11 euros per person. Salzburg is also the filming location of "The Sound of Music," which is quite famous! Outside the city, vast green lawns at the foot of the Alps, set against blue sky, white clouds, ancient castle, and church bells—naturally evokes the image of the seven Von Trapp children still singing here, as if every step on this land produces music. There is an extremely beautiful garden in Salzburg called Mirabell Garden, where Maria sang "Do-Re-Mi" with the children in the film. It's utterly enchanting.
(TIPS: Salzburg's most famous specialty is the Mozart ball (Mozartkugel), invented by a royal pastry chef in 1890 and named after Mozart. The Mozart ball is made of pistachio, marzipan, nougat, and chocolate, wrapped in silver foil with Mozart's portrait. The shop near the cable car station is probably the cheapest place to buy these—I concluded after comparing many stores. Also, Austrian desserts are world-famous; the most tempting are Sachertorte and Salzburger Nockerl. The most famous Sachertorte is sold in all coffee shops around Salzburg's central square, about 4 euros per slice, best paired with a 3-euro hot chocolate. This cake, mainly made of chocolate, cream, and almonds, has a rich texture and melts in the mouth. It is entirely handmade, and the recipe is strictly confidential.)
5. Introduction to the Hotels We Stayed At
To be honest, the hotels this time were all decent, meeting the itinerary's 4-star standard. Perhaps future group members might also stay at these hotels, so I'll give a brief review in hopes of helping.
Frankfurt Ramada Bad Soden: Good room, free WiFi in the lobby—just ask the front desk for a username and password. Located in a suburban town, but a 10-minute left turn walk from the hotel takes you to many typical German restaurants and bars. Quite convenient. Rich breakfast!
Mariánské Lázně -- Agricola: Large hotel, very friendly staff. Welcome champagne upon check-in. Outdoor red wine lounge and indoor pool. But the room was very small, the bed small, and the TV even smaller—probably a 12-inch color TV, something from 20 years ago. I had to lean in close to watch the National Day parade that day.
Prague -- Barcelo Praha: Probably closest to the city center, with several bus and metro lines nearby for easy access to the city. Room decent.
Hluboká nad Vltavou -- Podhrad: This was the most memorable hotel of our trip. It is located in a very quiet and beautiful small town and is itself converted from an ancient castle. From the outside, it looks exactly like a castle from a movie. Inside, the room was luxuriously decorated, very spacious, a family room with a large bed and a child's bed. Surrounded by typical rural pubs. Perhaps few Chinese visit there, so our entrance into the local pub attracted many eyes. Beer was especially cheap, about 8 RMB per glass. Wandering around in the morning, the whole town was shrouded in a thin mist, like a fairyland.
Budapest -- Rubin Hotel: Still a large, modern hotel. Our room was a two-story duplex—bedroom upstairs, living room downstairs. Very close to TESCO hypermarket (about 3-4 km by taxi; the front desk can help order one). Taxi fare at night is higher, about 100 RMB one way, so sharing with several people is more economical. TESCO has very cheap things, probably due to lower prices in Hungary, the cheapest shopping venue of our entire trip. Stock up on chocolate, red wine, etc.
Vienna -- AM Sachsengang: A faux-castle building in Vienna's far suburbs. Rooms have balconies. In the morning, you can see endless Austrian countryside. At night, pitch black around, nowhere to go.
Salzburg -- Arena City: A very ordinary hotel, advantage: free WiFi in the lobby.
Garmisch-Partenkirchen -- Quality Koenigshof: A nice hotel in a good location, right in the town center, within walking distance to the train station, shopping street, and bar street. Worth mentioning: try to get a room on the 4th floor. We stayed in room 401, a family apartment with an independent kitchen, living room, and a long balcony over ten meters. You can buy things and cook. Provides gas stove, microwave, and utensils.
6. Some Thoughts and Suggestions on Travel
We originally planned to sign up with Ctrip for a similar group tour, but their spots for the National Day holiday were full by the end of July, so we joined a local group. Price-wise, Ctrip quoted about 15,000 RMB, while ours was about 13,000 RMB—so Ctrip is more expensive. But comparing the two itineraries, you'll find that most of Ctrip's hotels are within the city, such as in Karlovy Vary, Český Krumlov, Innsbruck, Salzburg, whereas ours were at least 30-40 minutes away from attractions, missing the chance to freely appreciate the night views and local customs of each place and also wasting valuable time. European drivers are limited to 12 hours of driving per day. We wasted an average of 80 minutes (1.3 hours) per day on commuting time to hotels. So our actual group fee is 13000 × 12 / (12 - 1.3) = 14,579 RMB—not much cheaper. Moreover, compared to Ctrip's itinerary, we lost a lot of free time and rest time, with early morning calls every day. So I suggest future travelers choose Ctrip. (Again, I'm not a Ctrip promoter!)
Travel is always happy, always makes you linger, but the most important thing is not the attractions but the mood during the journey and the different friends you meet. European attractions are more or less the same—churches, bridges, castles—after seeing many, you become numb. But people are different; everyone has different experiences. Meeting different people, listening to different stories, and then continuing our own new stories—that's when the true meaning of travel gradually unfolds. Is there a form of travel like study tours, staying one day with local families to experience their life, making friends with locals, adding another kind of experience and knowledge to our travels? I hope Ctrip can take the lead in introducing such a trial. This is a small suggestion and a wish from a fellow traveler.
