A Goodbye To Austria

Dear Austria,
Thanks for the memories. No seriously, thank you. Whether it was discovering a Nazi-sympathizer landlord or swimming in the Worteresee:
you never cease to impress. Not to mention all the delicious Murauer that I drank; Yes, in excess on occasion. Thank you for sparking heated debates on team buses: For the official record, I still believe you could take the best rugby players in the world, and they would get their asses handed to them on a Rugby pitch versus NFL Guys with no training. I mean, Ray Lewis? C'mon---he killed a man. But, I digress. This is my official goodbye to you, with your scenic mountain and even nicer population. My time here had so little to do with football, and so much to do with discovering Europe, it's people, and myself.
Yes, a metaphoric tear comes to my eye, when I think about the early struggles in the grocery store---oh and you keen sense of humor "American Sandwich." Well played, Austria. Well played. Or was it the cultural saturation that was your best joke, I hate to admit it, but in month two I was considering buying skinny jeans, and shaping my receding hairline into a soccer mullet, and changing my name to Jahn (or was it Johahn...).
Not to mention your coffee---it has meth-addicts and crack smokers jealous. That stuff is so good it should be illegal.
So as I prepare for my Euro-Trip, I want to say thank you. Thanks for having me. I'll be back soon.
Yours Truly,
Rob