Innsbruck was a place where it was too cold to do anything but pop in and out of shops. I had speck for the very first time in my life - delicious, smoky, tender and a deep pinkish-red. Just a few pieces, from a shop that sold blood red sausages hanging from the windows, salamis and other cured meats behind a dimly-lit counter case. We searched for strudel amongst the bakeries, desiring that large, flaky pastry filled with fresh apples and gooey compote. We stood at a market stall that sold hot wine in plastic, souvenir mugs; you paid one price, perhaps five Euro or so, and you could bring it back to the stall after finishing it to get three Euros back. I thought about keeping my mug, as a souvenir, but then again, I had too many trinkets and tokens to think back upon. I had just spent almost $200.00 in the Swarvoski Crystal Factory. I could use the three Euro, truly.
