How Vienna got ransomed by 8 of its alternative faces

The first time I have visited Vienna, years ago, the mercury coloumn of the thermometer was over 40° C.
I swear.
It was my birthday and I really really wanted to celebrate it with a slice of authentic Sachertorte, but temperatures had stolen any desire for chocolate from me. Which is like saying Winnie the Pooh doesn't want honey anymore, or Bugs Bunny becoming disgusted by carrots.
So figure it out.
What I remember about Vienna, then, are only the trees (where we were desperately looking for some shelter and refreshment), ice creams (which were our only source of nourishment) and the smell of horses' poop (that the heat had amplified, giving me the impression that, from the Stefansdom area, where the carriages take romantically around tourists, it had got diffused all over the city).
But how come - I've kept on telling myself for years - Vienna, for goodness!!
Sissi, valzer, the beautiful blue Danube, the Klimt's kiss, the '800s atmospheare, the austere and elegant architecture, the cobbled roads...
Billy Joel even dedicated a song to it, come on!!
It's just not possible that my main thought about it can be horse's poop.
I really have to give it a second chance.

Barter Books: keep calm, black cats love reading!!

Everyone has his own personal definition of Paradise, according to his biggest passions.
Who love books often daydreams to get closed like forever in some labyrinthic libraries, where you don't even understand if walls exist or if they are made of bookshelves, where there are very high piles of books, where you can find all the stories you've always had in your to-read list, and then many others, unknown until that moment, but ready to be loved as soon as you will dive into their pages.
Who love books, England and finds himself at ease among a touch of vintage, should visit Barter Books in Alnwick, Northumberland.

Whitby - If I were a vampire I would choose you as well...

Spring is my favorite season.
It's not just a matter of colors or temperatures, it's the air that you breathe that I like: it is an air that smells of rebirth, of hope, that makes you want to start something new, to discover something that you have never considered before.
And, consequently, to travel.
But the air spring is also a sort of curse to me, since I'm allergic to some yet to be identified pollen, that transforms me in a sort of feline version of Sneezy from the Seven Dwarves, anytime I dare to breathe them with my nostrils.
Now I don't mean to quibble about how each rose must have its thorn - I'll rather make an apparently nonsense connection and tell you about the most beautiful place where I've ever have an allergy attack; that is Whitby , a small gothic pearl, beautifully gloomy, perched along the coast of Yorkshire.

Turin & the Tabby Cat

Sometimes you can travel without even leaving your hometown.
That usually happens when a friend comes to visit you: the first exciting part is choosing the itinerary to show her/him, in order to include all your favourite places - those that are meaningful to you, those that you find prettiest, but also those that you think she might particularly enjoy. And this part already requires an exercize of seeing your city with another kind of glimpse from the one you can have everyday, because you have to think about what is beautiful about it, what is valuable, what is special.
But then it's when you actually put in practice this plan, and start exploring your surroundings with your friend that the adventure really begins - because you start seeing everything with new eyes, with the eyes of someone that doesn't see your city daily, that maybe even sees it for the first time, and then it can happen: you will be able to discover things you had never found out before, and, what's perhaps even more interesting, giving a different shade to the things you usually do.

So - these are the new things I've done and seen (or maybe just put under a brighter light) during this weekend's visit of my friend Tabby Cat...