Silentium. Silence. For the sake of the bones of 145 Austrian emperors, empresses, church leaders, and other rather important people. 
Their earthly remains are encapsulated in copper and bronze tombs that are (mostly) elaborate. Some the size of a one-room apartment, decorated like a wedding cake on the outside. But for some very macabre reason, the hearts and intestines are missing from most of the persons. Because, natürlich, hearts and intestines were buried separately, in quite another crypt. All of this is very Egyptian, somehow. 
The Capucin crypt contains rows and rows of sleeping Habsburg emperors and empresses. Even Maximilian the Emperor of Mexico (yes, really, for a brief moment). But the two last emperors are missing. Franz Ferdinand, whose assassination snowballed into WWI, is buried elsewhere in Austria. His son Charles, the last proper emperor of Austria, is buried in Italy.
It must be heavy to carry the Imperial crown even when one is dead. Yet this bronze death skull guy is doing it just fine, save for a few missing teeth. 
(Capucin Crypt, Vienna, Austria; February 2017)
When in Vienna, order coffee like the Viennese.
Last night I came home from Zurich. This morning I am going back down again, to Vienna. One could ask why I did not just stay in Zurich and fly directly to Vienna. Because: 1) I would not have been able to accompany my mother (in business class). And 2) I would not have been able to see this artsy snowy patchwork blanket that is Poland on a February morning.
“You have such a fabulous job!” “You get to see the most cool innovations, and so many places!” “Sounds like so much fun!”
Finally, at the top floor or Royal Albert Hall. Impressed at the sight below me, I took some photos. “Do you know where you should be?” asked a friendly seating assistant. I pointed at a seat just below the ceiling – I had been late with booking my ticket. “Would you like a seat down there by the stage?” Goodness me, yes. I did. Fifth row from the stage. What an experience.
And the best thing is, like those freak shows of old, Cirque du Soleil is always on the lookout for people with unusual skills. Talented skater, athlete, rope skipper, martial artist? Maybe you know of an ancient performing art only a few people remember? Perhaps you should join the circus.
(Royal Albert Hall, London, United Kingdom; January 2017)
Business lunch at Eagle and Child with a quantum physicist, discussing medical sciences. Dinner at the Bear Inn, a pub from 1242, among 4,500 club ties (including one tiny panel in the ceiling for women’s ties). Instead of rowdy drunk people, there were ladies dining and students playing chess with glass pieces.
(Oxford, United Kingdom; January 2017)
But during that week there was no time to dream and remember. There were studies, 8 hours a day, with smart people from all around the world. There were too many age-old pubs. There was afternoon tea with champagne. There were colleges to discover.
And there was even a futile attempt at fencing. Apparently, women wear a madonna bustier – hence the busty look. Another mystery solved. It also turns out well-mannered fencing men have serious trouble fighting a woman – not because of chivalry but because they must shamelessly attack the bustier.
(Oxford, United Kingdom; January 2017)
Freezing water needs a surface to form ice crystals. Trapped in the still, cold air, it remains liquid, supercooled, even if the temperature is below zero degrees Celsius. Contact with a surface helps the water droplet organize into a new shape, one that is right for the current weather.
This blue marble 