Austria – Page 2 – DU Abroad

Fall break arrived faster than I expected, which now means I am halfway through my study abroad experience. Studying abroad makes the world feel suddenly smaller, you realize how easy it is to hop on a plane and be in a completely different culture in just a few hours. So that’s exactly what I did. Over the course of one unforgettable week, I traveled from Copenhagen to Madrid to Barcelona. Three completely different cities, climates, and ways of life. What I found was a crash course in culture shock, travel mishaps, and self-discovery.

Copenhagen, the capital of Denmark, was my first stop, and it immediately felt like a different world from Salzburg. The weather was cold, grey, and rainy — the kind of rain that doesn’t pour but just lingers all day. Yet, to my surprise, it didn’t slow anyone down. Locals went about their routines armed with umbrellas and bikes, unfazed by the drizzle. It was almost inspiring, a quiet lesson in not letting circumstances like the weather dictate your day. Everything about Copenhagen felt clean, calm, and organized. Public transportation was seamless, and despite being a capital city, it didn’t have that frantic and overcrowded energy that you find in many others. People seemed to move through life deliberately — fast when they needed to be, but never rushed. One of the first things I noticed is the cost of Scandinavian charm- Copenhagen is expensive. Prices were noticeably higher than Salzburg, which may be because Danish Krone go by the hundreds and thousands. Coffee, groceries, even simple meals felt like small luxuries. Still, I never felt unwelcome, most people spoke fluent English and were incredibly kind when I asked questions. Both kinds of Europeans are polite and helpful, but the Danish have a very calm, composed kind of goodwill and altruism. I stayed in a private hostel with a few friends, which turned out to be the perfect middle ground between comfort and adventure. It was clean, efficient, and surprisingly cozy. Staying there forced us to get out and explore, since there wasn’t the temptation to lounge around in a hotel room or Airbnb. The biggest takeaway: be prepared with your own essentials. Hostels often don’t provide towels or toiletries so pack smart and pack light. Every night, the hostel lobby and bar buzzed with travelers. There’s something about that kind of community that makes you feel connected; everyone’s from somewhere different, but you’re all there for the same reason: curiosity. Copenhagen struck me as both familiar and entirely new. Similar to Salzburg, it has friendly locals and easy-to-navigate public transportation system. But it also stands apart with its minimalist way of life that feels refreshingly uncomplicated and calm. If you ever have the chance to go to Copenhagen, my one recommendation is that you HAVE to go to Poulette, it is the best chicken sandwich you will ever have in your life — my mouth is watering even just writing this.

Leaving rainy Copenhagen for sunny Madrid felt like stepping into a completely different rhythm of life. The air was warmer, the streets louder, and everything seemed to revolve around food, friends, and enjoying the moment: three of my favorite things! Unlike Copenhagen, where I spent most of my time sightseeing, I took Madrid as a chance to slow down. I definitely may have overstayed my welcome by parking myself at my friends apartment who are studying there, but that made all the difference. Having locals (even if they’re my fellow DU friends) means getting insider recommendations like which sights are actually worth the ticket, which restaurants live up to the hype, and where you can just sit and soak in local life. Their apartment was in the business district, which gave me a peek into Madrid’s daily hustle. I’d watch the morning commutes, see lunch rushes flood the cafés, and notice how the city was far more industrialized compared to Salzburg.

One evening, I went to Honest Greens, a fast-casual restaurant that reminded me of Sweetgreen back home. Being cautious and responsible, I wrote “nut allergy” in the order notes, asked for no walnuts, and felt confident…until I discovered cashews in my salad. Cue a mild allergic reaction. It wasn’t severe, but the situation quickly turned stressful. I was away from our Airbnb, I didn’t bring Benadryl or my Epi-pen in my purse, none of my friends had anything on them, and all the “24-hour” pharmacies were — of course — closed. Lesson learned: always carry everything you need or think you may not need on you. Even when you think you’re prepared, you’re not always as prepared as you think. Traveling abroad means you can’t assume things work the same way they do at home. I noticed fewer people in Madrid spoke English compared to Central Europe. Still, there were tons of American study abroad students, many fluent in Spanish, which helped bridge the gap. Culturally, Madrid feels less steeped in “visible” history than cities like Salzburg or Vienna. While Central Europe is full of centuries-old cathedrals and wartime architecture, Madrid’s energy feels more modern and more about living culture than preserved history. While it’s common in Salzburg to see people sipping afternoon beers, in Madrid I saw fewer casual drinkers and more late-night socializing. Spaniards seem to prefer evening energy — late dinners, long conversations, and a lifestyle that values connection over schedules. Travel tip: you can’t do everything, and you shouldn’t try to. Some sights are worth the ticket (like the Royal Palace of Madrid), but others are just as enjoyable from the outside. Pick your priorities so you don’t burn out or blow your budget.

My last stop was Barcelona, and it was pure sensory overload in the best way. From the moment I arrived, the city buzzed with life. Street performers, beach volleyball games, and tapas bars spilling onto sidewalks. It’s easy to see why Barcelona is known for its energy. There’s a contagious sense of excitement here, a mix of creativity and chaos that just works. Before going, everyone warned me about pickpocketing, and yes, it’s real, but also manageable. Keep your purse zipped, stay aware, and don’t leave your phone in your back pocket. Once you get past that initial worry, the city opens up in the best way. One of my favorite things about Barcelona was how effortlessly urban life blends with the beach. After getting breakfast one morning, we walked to the beach. We passed through quiet residential neighborhoods full of locals walking dogs, hanging laundry, and chatting on balconies. The beach was full of life — people swimming, picnicking, playing games, and just enjoying the good weather. After days of travel, sitting on the sand in jeans and a t-shirt felt like the definition of peace. Food-wise, Barcelona was a learning experience. For some reason, I assumed Spanish food would be similar to Mexican, and I quickly realized how wrong I was. Burritos aren’t as common here, but tapas make up for it. Ordering a small spread of dishes to share — patatas bravas, croquettes, chorizo — was not only delicious by social. Tapas culture is about community, the art of talking, tasting, and lingering. The metro system in both Madrid and Barcelona made everything so easy. Clean, fast, and intuitive, which made me realize how much I rely on Salzburg’s slower, above-ground buses. It is fascinating to see how each city designs its own flow of movement.

Now that I’m back in Salzburg, diving into discussions of All Quiet on the Western Front and slipping back into my student routine, I can’t help but reflect on how quickly life shifts abroad. In just one week, I experienced:
– The calm and drizzle of Copenhagen’s Scandinavian delight.
– The warmth and unhurried afternoons of Madrid.
– The sunshine and spirited energy of Barcelona’s Mediterranean coast.

If Central Europe immerses you in history, Spain immerses you in living culture, both equally as valuable. Whether it’s rain in Copenhagen or sunshine in Spain, every new place teaches you a little more about the world and yourself.

There’s an unspoken competition that starts the minute you arrive in your study abroad city. No one says it out loud, but its there; in every group chat, every Instagram story, every “weekend recap” conversation. Who can go to the coolest and most niche locations? Who’s found the most unique thrift store item? Who’s adapted to European life the fastest? What about vocalizing more real questions like; Why am I not eating enough sufficient meals? Why do I feel like I am constantly swiping my card? Why do I never feel well rested enough? It’s like an invisible scoreboard we all pretend not to care about, but totally do. I’ve been catching myself comparing constantly. Not just to people in my program, but to friends back at home, and even to my sister, who studied abroad in Rome seven years ago. And even though I’m painfully self-aware of how ridiculous it is, I still feel the pressure to do it all, to fit everything in, every day. There is a reoccurring guilt that creeps in when I decide to take a nap instead of exploring a museum or when I spend an afternoon dare I say… sitting. Like i’m wasting time in a city that deserves my constant energy, even though I’m here for four months.

Chaotic traveling is what you make of it. You’re not the only one who has to take ‘trains, planes, and automobiles’ (a classic phrase from my mom), and that’s kind of the point. Download a good movie, pick up a good book, and create an entertaining queue of songs to distract your dwelling mind. Salzburg’s airport is small, so most trips start with a train to Vienna or Munich before I even get on a plane. Flights are often more expensive, connections are long, and the timing never quite works. One weekend I made the mistake of assuming I didn’t need to reserve a seat on the train to Budapest. Turns out, it was an extremely popular route, so I spent some of the ride sitting on the floor next to the bathrooms. There are always little inconveniences you just have to accept. Not everyone is going to be able to sleep comfortably in a bed, someone is most likely always going to have to sleep on a futon or a floor. Someone’s going to pick the Airbnb with “rustic charm” that actually means no water pressure — like in Budapest, where the shower dripped like Molasses, and if the kitchen sink was on, there was no water. Or something you may not think of like standing on the wrong side of the road waiting for the bus — which, will take you deep into a random Austrian suburb instead of the train station if you’re not paying attention. Travel fatigue hits differently when it’s constant. It’s not just physical exhaustion, although 4:30 a.m. alarms don’t help, it’s emotional too. There are only so many times that you can pack, unpack, and re-pack before your brain starts begging for stillness.

Social media is the worst culprit here. It makes every trip look like a highlight reel — everyone’s eating croissants standing under the Eiffel Tower and cliff-jumping in Croatia while looking perfectly unbothered. Meanwhile, I’m wondering how someone my age can afford to fly to Mykonos when my RyanAir search said 400 euros one way. There’s this unspoken standard that every trip abroad has to include a full cultural awakening, a deep emotional revelation, and aesthetic photos. But the truth? Travel is mostly messy. There are missed trains, cancelled buses, bad weather, uncomfortable plane naps, and mediocre meals. But those are the stories that end up sticking. No one ever reminisces about the “perfect weekend.” We laugh about the near disasters, the trips where everything went slightly wrong and we survived anyway.

For example, in early September, my friends and I decided to take a trip to Positano, on the Amalfi Coast, the kind of dream destination you see on postcards. We landed in Naples, took an hour and a half van ride through the wildest cliffside roads I’ve ever experienced, and arrived dizzy and motion sick but excited. Our Airbnb host had given us directions that seemed simple enough. They were not, and that’s where language barriers can get a little tricky. One wrong turn — deciding to go straight instead of right — and we ended up walking up at least 30 flights of stairs, scaling what felt like the side of the mountain for two hours. It was pitch black, we were dragging luggage, sweating, and angrily laughing because it was so unbelievably ridiculous. We couldn’t see the ocean below us and had absolutely no idea where we were going. By the time we finally found the Airbnb, we were convinced we’d accidentally hiked half of the Amalfi Coast. The Airbnb really was on the side of the mountain. Every time we wanted to leave, we had to hike twenty minutes up and down a steep path that made our calves scream. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. That weekend was one of my favorites, not because it was “perfect,” but because it was hilariously imperfect. We were exhausted, sweaty, and so happy. I laughed harder that trip than I had in months.

A few Sundays ago, I got back to Salzburg from yet another whirlwind trip, dropped my bag on the floor, and said to my roommate, “I don’t want to do that again next weekend“. Instant guilt. Wasn’t the whole point of studying abroad to travel every chance you get? It’s “so easy” to hop around Europe, right? But that next weekend, I stayed, no flights and no trains. There’s something surprisingly powerful about a “boring” weekend. Staying put lets you live instead of perform. My favorite “boring” weekend so far looked like this: staying up late talking and laughing with friends, sleeping in, slow morning music, coffee, laundry, cleaning, calling my family, and walking along the Salzach River with no destination in mind. I enjoyed wandering around Salzburg with no plan. This city isn’t just my launchpad for trips, it’s my home base, and it feels good to slow down long enough to notice that. Even within Austria, there’s so much to see. Our program trips have taken me to Vienna, I’ve seen Innsbruck, and I’m hoping to see Linz and Hallstatt — all places that feel familiar yet new. Salzburg has this calmness that contrasts beautifully with the chaos of constant travel. It’s small enough to feel cozy but big enough to keep surprising you. I’ve come to appreciate that I didn’t pick one of the “typical” study abroad cities. There’s no haunting pressure to go out every night or live up to some cinematic version of Europe. That slower pace gives me more energy for the weekends when I do travel. Adventure is always nearby here! You can hop on a train and be in the mountains or lakes in an hour, or you can stay in the city and watch the sunset reflect off of the fortress. Either way, contentment lives here. I’ve been starting to believe that this is what growing up looks like, realizing that you don’t have to chase every experience to have a meaningful one. And no matter how far I go, my friends and I always say the same thing when we get back: “It feels so nice to be home in Salzburg.”

Category: Austria

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