From: Padraig Breathnach on 13 Dec 2006 15:33 Vienna, November 2006 This trip was more for Herself than for me, as I had already been to Vienna -- admittedly a long time ago, and as a very impecunious student. But it was once more than Herself had managed, and she wanted to make good the deficiency. My recollection of the city was short on specifics; all I really retained was general impressions. Preparation was a shared task. Herself, whose time is more difficult to manage than mine, set the time frame. I undertook to arrange travel and accommodation. The programme would be principally what Herself wanted, so I bought a guidebook and gave it to her to enable her to plan our activities, but I did claim one day for a side-trip to Bratislava. The flights were easy to arrange. We don't use Ryanair, and Aer Lingus is now a low-fares airline, so if we are planning well in advance (which is usually the case) what I do is to wait for one of the frequent Aer Lingus seat sales and grab bargains. For accommodation, I did some online research and shortlisted five places which various people had recommended. Without enough information to prefer any one over the others, I then made the final selection on price. The winner was the City Hotel Deutschmeister at Gruenentorgasse 30, which had a promotional rate available at the time I was booking. I won't bore you with more grumbling about airports. The best way to cope with them is to disengage the psyche from the experience as much as possible, staying in touch just enough to go through the right doors at the right times. For a short-haul flight, you might as well remain disengaged for the duration of the flight, and thus arrive at the destination airport in an appropriate frame of mind. By such means we parked the car at Dublin Airport at midday on Thursday and arrived at Vienna Airport late in the afternoon. At Vienna Airport, it is best to ignore the machines selling tickets for the City Airport Train at €9, and head for the S-bahn (suburban railway) which will get you into the city in comfort for €3. Had we known the ground better, with the same tickets we could have transferred to the U-bahn (underground railway) and got to within 50 metres of our hotel. Not knowing the exact location of the hotel, or how much bother it might be to get there from the underground, we took a taxi from Wien Mitte and paid €10 for the final leg of our journey. Still a lot cheaper than taking a taxi from the airport. We checked in and were assigned a room on the eighth floor, under sloping attic ceilings. It was oddly irregular in shape, possibly because the bathroom was a post-construction modification, but included all the standard comforts. Once we had sorted our things and freshened up, we went down to reception and asked the desk clerk if there was a restaurant nearby that he would recommend. Out the door, turn left, then take the second street on the left, he advised. So we did, and found two restaurants, one offering Italian cuisine and the other offering what we supposed was Austrian cuisine. We have some familiarity with Italian food, so we chose that. The menu proffered was in German (no surprise that) and there was no English translation available. Our server spoke limited English, and tried to help us. There was a set meal which looked appealing, but when we said we would like that she said there was a problem: it was 9.30 p.m. and the kitchen closed at 10.00 p.m. -- not enough time for three courses. That's okay, I suggested, we'll eat fast. To my surprise, my suggestion was accepted, and we had a tasty meal, nicely cooked and well presented, accompanied by house wine. As often (especially in Italian restaurants), I declined dessert, and ordered an amaretto to sip while Herself tried what the menu called zabione, and which turned out to be what we know as zabaglione. The chef got out of the kitchen at 10.05 p.m., having taken more time to prepare the zabaglione than I would have expected. A nice touch: when the bill was presented there was no charge for the amaretto; it was treated as a substitution for dessert. I have mislaid the bill, but think we paid about €70, and deemed it good value. La Pasteria, Servitengasse 10. A short walk back to the hotel and for the hell of it we took the stairs up to the eighth floor -- all 128 steps. We perused the guidebook and a variety of brochures, failed to make any plans, and retired for the night. Down to breakfast the next morning. A buffet with plenty of variety, acceptably good but not remarkably high quality. No complaints at the price we were paying. Then out to commence our tourism programme. What programme? Oh, all right, we went out with no particular plan, to see what we might find. Our first move was to go to the nearby U-bahn station and purchase an "8-Tage-Karte" for €24. This gives a total of eight days' unlimited travel on the city's public transport system and can be used by more than one person provided they travel together -- you just need to validate the right number of sections of the ticket. So we would have the freedom of Vienna for four days. All we needed now was to decide how to exercise it. A short trip, just one stop, brought us to Schottenring, where we transferred to tram 1 which does a full circuit of the Ringstrasse and Franz Josefs Kai. Herself, by now a guide-book expert, pointed out things of interest. Circuit completed, we had our bearings when we disembarked. So we set out to visit Stephansdom and promptly got lost. And then it started to snow. Not a light fluffy fun snow, but a cold wet wind-driven one. We forfeited all our street cred, and sheltered in a doorway consulting maps until we were sure of the best route to the cathedral, then took off to seek shelter in God's house. As it seemed did most other visitors to the city, for we joined a throng inside. While the shelter was welcome, tourism was frustrated because a service was due to begin and access to the main part of the cathedral was (rightly, I accept) restricted to worshippers. After a while we ventured out to find that the snow had stopped. Just outside the cathedral we were accosted by a tout offering tickets for a concert. He was well set up: a folder containing pictures of the venue and of the orchestra, programme (popular pieces from Mozart and Strauss), seating plan, maps of how to get there, and tickets at different prices. He even had a credit card machine should we wish to pay that way. I reckon that he figured that by the time he got to about the fifth page of his flip-through presentation he had us hooked. The truth is that we were hooked at page one: it was November, and indoor evening entertainment seemed to us a good idea. But he read his marks well in another respect, and advised us against the VIP seats at the front unless we wanted a great view of the performers' knees. We were happy to buy the cheap seats (€35 each), and chose the earlier of two performances with a view to dining afterward. Although the snow had stopped, the idea of a warm room and hot drink appealed to us, so we bypassed Starbuck's at Michaelerplatz (why open a Starbuck's in a city that already has a coffee tradition?) in favour of the nearby Greinsteidl, one of the great Viennese coffee houses, for elevenses. We did not take it as mandatory that we order cake: that's for tourists. After half an hour's relaxation we resumed our rambles around the Hofburg area, developing our mental maps. An hour in the open on a cold November morning, and we were ready for a light lunch. Hot drinks, slices of pizza, and a shared pastry (viennoiserie in Vienna -- that's the sort of idea that appeals to me) all for less than €10 in a small snack bar. Then back to the Hofburg for a 3-in-1 museum package: the Silberkammer, Sisi Museum, and the State Apartments. Here I exercise restraint and show mercy to the reader: you are not going to get full reports on museum visits. We never looked at more tableware on any one day than we did in the Silberkammer where, despite the name, there was relatively little silver. Herself already knew something about her, but I learned about the darling of 19th century Vienna, the Empress Elisabeth (Sisi) and judged that she was a strange creature. We saw that the Hapsburgs had lived in baroque splendour, and Herself wondered why the people had not swept away the monarchy as had the French (who executed one Hapsburg, the ill-fated Marie Antoinette). Overall, there was plenty to see and think about. We thought it well worth the admission price, even though I forget exactly how much we paid. Thence to the Palais Auersperg, which we were told was once home to Mozart, for our concert. The show took place in a handsome oval salon where I suppose Mozart had performed, and the ensemble comprised a seven-piece orchestra (strings, piano, and flute), two singers, and two dancers. The leader gave a count with his bow and the orchestra launched into a 40-minute Mozart selection. I claim no expertise in music, but was taken with how tightly they worked together, clearly under good control. The vocal performances were good, and the dancers charming, although it was a pity that the lightness of their steps was betrayed by a resonant stage; airy leaps landed with a loud thud. At the interval, Herself and I agreed that the women in the orchestra wore brave dresses, the decolletage a disincentive to vigourous bowing, and that the cellist looked bored, perhaps because the arrangements did not give her enough to do. The second half of the concert was a Strauss selection, which I liked better -- and so it seemed, did the cellist, for she was much more engaged. Herself was a little disappointed that they cut the Emperor Waltz from their programme, as she particularly enjoys it. Despite that, we felt that we got our money's worth. For dinner, we went back to another Italian-style place near the hotel that we had noticed the previous evening, Leo at Grunentorgasse 21. Informal style, but not quite comfortable. A longish menu in German only, but the server ran through it quickly, giving us English translations of everything. We both settled for a dish featuring what he told us was turbot but which, when it appeared, proved to be halibut (that explained why it seemed cheap for turbot). Two courses, house wine, coffee, about €55. Fair value. Back to the hotel to plan for the next couple of days. I asked at reception if they had information on the boat service for Bratislava. The desk clerk told me that it left from Schwedenplatz, but he did not have a timetable. He went online, and reported that there was no service in November. This did not accord with what I had found before leaving home, but he was adamant. This cast a doubt over our (particularly my) ambition. Resigned, we took a nightcap, perused some brochures perfunctorily, and retired for the night. Saturday morning was cold and windy, with sleety showers. The weather forecast, however, predicted improvement during the day. Hoping that my research skills were better than those of the hotel clerk, we headed for Schwedenplatz to see about the boat service and, yes, I was right. It was due to go in about two hours, so we booked our return tickets (€52 each) and thought about killing some time. We spent most of it ensconced in a very cosy bar taking hot drinks. It was not exactly adventurous tourism, but it suited us very well on a cold wet morning. Sailing time approached. Because it is an international trip, we had to show passports before boarding. The twin-hull boat is fitted out rather like a wide-bodied airliner, and we bagged window seats. We cast off, and made way along the Danube Canal to join the river. Very soon we were moving at 60kph, but so smoothly and quietly that one had to look at how fast the banks went by to get any sense of speed. The bad weather continued, so visibility was limited. We could see the banks, and not much beyond them. For quite a distance from Vienna we saw cabins by the water's edge, some raised on stilts, many with jetties, and every one with a square net on a hoist which I supposed was for fishing, but I did not get a clear idea of how the fishing was conducted. Do city-dwellers spend the weekend in a cabin, dipping and lifting nets, catching very little, and feeling at one with the primitive? Some, however, clearly could not do without all modern comforts, for a number of cabins had satellite dishes. We saw nothing spectacular until we had crossed the Slovakian border, where we could just discern through the thickening snow Devin castle perched on its rocky hill. A few minutes later we were tying up at Bratislava. We disembarked, to be met by touts offering tours. Not really our scene, I thought, let's go find the old town and work things out for ourselves. We got a map from the boat office, and stood in the snow trying to figure where we were and where everything else was. As we shivered, the tourist train with enclosed carriages looked suddenly inviting, and we parted with €5 each and sat in. Off we rattled and in minutes we were in the old town. The guide provided a very full commentary, barely pausing for breath -- entirely in German, a language neither of us speaks, but in which we can discern a small amount. We got the numbers, but by the time we had decoded them we had lost all possibility of figuring out what it was 89% of, or what happened in 1803, but we did figure that Maria Teresa was an important figure in the history of Slovakia. The snow persisted, and the windows misted up, so now our inability to make much of the commentary was matched by an inability to see much of the city. We went up to the castle, by which time such daylight as we had was starting to fade. Herself wiped the window, peered into what was by now a greyout, and advised me that the poor visibility might be useful to an acrophobe like me, as we were atop a steep hill. The little train stopped for a 15-minute break. I suppose that in normal circumstances it would have been to give people an opportunity to enjoy what I am sure are great views, but the guide told us where to find the souvenir shop and the toilets. We resumed our trip, and found our German comprehension was improving, as we now know where there is a university hostel. A few minutes later we were deposited in the old town. By now it was well into the afternoon, and we had not had lunch. The weather was such that we did not want to wander around checking out restaurants, so we headed towards the first one we saw, hoping it would do. It was in the same building as the casino, an imposing edifice known as the Redoute which looked very upmarket -- but the prices on the menu posted outside seemed modest enough. We entered and found a large dining room, somewhat old-fashioned but in a nice way -- good-sized tables that were well-dressed, and not crowded together to accommodate as many diners as possible. The only people there were two men relaxing at the bar, one wearing a waiter's uniform and the other wearing kitchen attire. I got the impression that they might be on their time off between lunch and dinner service, but when I asked the waiter if we could eat, he said yes. We ordered starters and main courses. Herself had venison and I had veal, and the food was interesting, well-presented, and generously garnished. Our side orders of vegetables were not really needed. Motivated more by curiosity than by hunger, I ordered the cheese platter: it was enough to feed two hungry people rather than one whose appetite had already been sated. Tea and coffee to finish. All that, including four glasses of reasonable quality house wine and one post-prandium, came to €32. We did not have much time left, and we had seen very little of Bratislava. When we emerged, the snow had stopped; it was now raining. Protected by hood and umbrella, we splodged forth into the rain and darkness. We looked at the National Theatre and then walked the length of Hviezdoslavovo Square (it's not really a square, more a very elongated rectangle) and got to see the outside of the cathedral, which was closed. We peered at the impressive new bridge over the Danube (named, with great originality, novy most, meaning new bridge, while the only other bridge now has the name stary most which means old bridge). Then we doubled back through some pedestrianised streets that were very much depedestrianised by the weather and tried to form an impression of what the city would be like in better conditions (fairly nice, but somehow lacking the gravitas one usually associates with a capital city). Then it was time for our boat. We boarded, blasted upriver at 60 kph in the darkness without hitting anything, and were back in Vienna in good time for bed. We really enjoyed our outing, and we hope some day to see Bratislava. Sunday can be a quiet day in central Europe, but Herself had made use of the guidebook and told me that the Belvedere was open. After breakfast we headed out and found that the skies had cleared. While we saw it as an improvement, it was not an unqualified good thing: the wind that had blown the clouds away was still blowing, and it could cut you. When we arrived at the Belvedere our tour of the gardens was perfunctory, as I wanted to get into shelter. The Belvedere is actually a pair of palaces built for Prince Eugene of Savoy. They are both separated and linked by a formal garden. The complex now serves as an art gallery. We started in the Upper Belvedere with the aim of seeing both the building and the collection of 19th and 20th century art that it houses. As a palace, I thought it psychologically cold, built to impress rather than to welcome visitors; I could not imagine myself wanting to hang about the Marble Hall longer than necessary. There is, apparently, a notable chapel that we missed -- our guidebook says it is there, but the floor plan we got with our tickets does not show it. As is our wont, we eschewed the audio guides to the works of art, and wandered around to decide for ourselves what we liked. The featured artist is Gustav Klimt but he doesn't do it for me -- expressionism generally doesn't. I found a rare thing, a Renoir I disliked (Bather with Loose Blond Hair); Herself and I agreed that we loved Monet's Pathway in the Garden at Giverny; I would happily give wall space to Reiter's Slumbering Woman. Overall, however, I was not greatly taken by the collection -- but that's just me. Thence hastily through the formal garden and wind and rain (yes, the clouds were back) to the Lower Belvedere, a more modest palace. It seemed comparatively homely, and it was easier to imagine what it might have been like to live there (I gather that the lower palace served as Prince Eugene's residence while the upper palace was the formal space). The collection there was of earlier works, and I was pleased to encounter David's Napoleon on Horseback. Into the Orangerie to see even earlier works, medieval and early renaissance, some of which looked surprisingly modern to my inexpert eye. And then the Belvedere was done. By tram back in to the Ringstrasse and a walkabout. We had a close-up look at the Rathaus, where the Christmas market was being set up, and then walked under the porticos until we came to Cafe Einstein. Herself thought that she had seen a positive mention of it somewhere. That, and the fact that we had not eaten since breakfast, was sufficient commendation, so we went in. The style of the place was cheap and cheerful, but cosy with it, something like a pub. It is close to the university, so it seems a fair supposition that students are a target market. The menu was largely a mystery to us, but when we asked the server, she was able to produce an English version. Our requirement was not for a full meal, but a late lunch snack, and we were in the right place for that style of catering. What the hell, I thought, I'll be like a tourist and have the Wiener Schnitzel -- something I would never order at home; Herself opted for a sandwich. The food was pleasant without being remarkable, and my wine was served in a mug, a lack of pretension that I liked. Less than €20, which we thought very good value for what we got. We resumed our ramble. The Votivkirche is eye-catching, so we headed towards it only to find that it was closed for maintenance. We generally like to see the old quarters of cities and interesting buildings, so we crossed inside the Ringstrasse to see Am Hof, described in our guidebook as Vienna's largest enclosed square, and the area around it. Because of my aversion to consulting maps outdoors and looking like a tourist, we managed to take a roundabout route, which was fine. There are handsome and interesting buildings around Am Hof, but the overall impression is marred by a few of them being in a tired state, and by some unsympathetic modern intrusions. We found our way into an art nouveau arcade near by, the name of which escapes me now, where the price levels in the shops made me glad that it was Sunday and they were closed. On we rambled and found ourselves in Graben, a wide pedestrianised shopping street of handsome buildings pretty well at the centre of the ring We admired the Plague column, a spectacular piece of baroquery erected to give thanks for deliverance from a plague in 1679. Thence around the corner to try again for Stephansdom, and again we were thwarted by its being used for the purpose for it was built. Time for coffee, and we retraced some of our steps to visit the elegant Central coffee house on Herrengasse, not far from Am Hof. This time we consented to become tourists, and had cake. We are not great enthusiasts for cake, and we were not converted. We had walked a good deal on a cold, windy, and occasionally wet day, so we retired to the hotel to rest and refresh ourselves. Batteries recharged, we sought an evening meal -- because of our late lunch, we wanted just a light one, one course only. We had one restaurant remaining close to the hotel that we had not yet been to, the one serving Austrian food that we had spotted the first night. Time to give it a try. Yet again the menu was in German only, and I asked the server if he could explain it to us. Yes, he assured us, and left us to peruse it for several minutes, returning to take our orders. I asked if he could tell us what things were, and he ran his finger down the menu saying "steak, beef, liver, calf, beef, calf" -- the very bits that we had figured out, and nothing about how it was prepared or garnished. The section in our guidebook about food was little help to us. We needed a strategy. Herself, being of modest appetite, had a ready solution in ordering carpaccio, which has the advantage of surviving translation into German unscathed. Then it was my problem: I decided to order the beef dish with the longest description, a whole paragraph, hoping that the specification included an interesting garnish. We knew how to order wine, so that was okay. The carpaccio proved to be good (although not quite as good as the one I had eaten two nights previously in La Pasteria across the road). I got boiled beef in a creamy sauce that included chopped vegetables. To my great relief, the beef was tender, albeit somewhat bland. I don't remember the name of the place, but that is not important because I don't think it was interesting enough to recommend. Herself proposed that we seek out a musical entertainment for the following evening, so when we got back to the hotel we asked at reception what was available. We were given a number of promotional brochures but, when we perused them, we found that Monday was not a good day for concerts. We decided to research further on the morrow, and called it a day. Monday was for Schonbrunn. We had been advised that there was enough there to fill a day, so we set off early and arrived by 10 a.m. (that's early when we're on holiday). No rain, a light cloud cover, and a cold wind. The Palace is seriously big and has extensive outbuildings, an impressive summer residence for an imperial court; yet I imagine that when it accommodated 5,000 people it might have seemed very crowded. We paid €11.50 each for the grand tour, and were furnished with audio-guides to talk us through. And grand it was, with spectacular rooms and salons in a variety of styles from various times. We were reminded of the bit we used to know of the history of the Austro-Hungarian empire, and made aware of how much we never knew. As in the Hofburg, the modest lifestyle and the hard-working ways of Franz-Josef were featured -- yet he was the man who lost an empire. The tour lasted us about 90 minutes, but you could take much longer if you were minded to engage with the artwork with which the Hapsburgs surrounded themselves; we did the history tour. The gardens are almost as important feature of Schonbrunn as is the palace, so we ventured forth. This was not a day for strolling because of the low temperature exacerbated by significant wind-chill. So we struck out at pace towards the Gloriette, the greatest architectural folly I have ever seen, and from which there is a commanding view of the palace (so perhaps it is a gazebo rather than a folly). And then back down. The rest of the gardens, which looked interesting, could wait for a future visit on a milder day. Hot drinks were required, and we found a pleasant and stylish coffee shop in one of the buildings facing on to the entrance courtyard where we recovered from the cold. Herself tried the apple strudel, and I helped her with it. It was not remarkably special, but at least the ratio of fruit to pastry was high. Thence back to the U-bahn and into the city centre. The first target was to find a concert, so we went to consult a specialist -- a ticket tout at Stephansdom. All he had to offer was tickets to the Palais Auersperg, the concert we had already seen. When we said that we had been to it, and wanted something else, he made phone calls, and offered us tickets for the Kursalon for a Strauss and Mozart programme (thus to be distinguished from the Mozart and Strauss concert we had already attended). Herself was determined to make good the Emperor Waltz deficiency, checked and saw that it was on the programme, so we booked. The evening programme sorted, we had the balance of the afternoon to fill. We were standing beside the locus of two previous failures, so we tried Stephansdom once more, and this time we were allowed in. It would not have troubled me greatly had we been refused, for I found the place surprisingly gloomy for a building that is essentially gothic with lots of baroque features; Herself liked it better. Anyway, if we were list-ticking tourists, we could regard one more thing as ticked. We took a stroll along Kartner Strasse, one of the major shopping streets of the old city, even though we were not particularly interested in shopping. At the beginning of November some shops already had Christmas displays. We took refreshments in a rooftop cafe that afforded us a great view of other rooftops, looked into the church of the Knights of Malta (shrug), passed by the opera, and arrived at the Ringstrasse. The cold wind had more access to us there, so we dived back into the shelter of the narrow streets of the old city. By the time we got to Graben the cold had finally become too much for me; I had not worn headwear since I was a child, but I broke the habit of years and we went into a shop to get me a woolly hat. It proved immediately valuable because when we emerged on to Graben we found a piano, and a young woman taking her place to play it. And did she play! This was a seriously good musician, playing Mozart and Beethoven pieces in an accomplished way -- outdoors, with a temperature only slightly above freezing and a cold wind blowing. I had mentioned to Herself earlier in the day that Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu had been running through my head, and she now requested it from the pianist. No problem: it was executed superbly. A man who looked Japanese walked up with camera ready and then walked away without taking a picture. I think I could see why, even if I did not understand his thought processes: the pianist also looked Japanese. I wondered how she had got there, if she had grown up in Tokyo or Kyoto, showed promise as a child learning music, and been sent to Europe to further her studies and build a career as a performer, to end up playing wonderfully on a street in Vienna. This was to be our last evening in Vienna. So far as dining was concerned, Herself had so far got off lightly in her assigned role as programme manager. Now, having consulted the guidebook, she proposed that we try Kern's Beisl on Kleeblattgasse for an early dinner before our concert. We were first in the door at 6.00 p.m., just as they opened for evening service, were made feel welcome, and shown to a table. The menu spoke to me (in English) of the best of central European food: I ordered venison as a main course, and herself went for goose. The food was very good but I caution you not to order the venison unless you are hungry; it was a central European portion -- huge, but too tasty for me to leave any. Although it was early on a Monday evening in November, the place filled up rapidly, and soon only those with reservations were getting places. A couple arrived and were assigned to the table beside us. As they sat, the woman knocked down a plate, which broke on the tiled floor. The man called the waiter, I presumed to apologise, but he ignored the mishap and in an American accent asked loudly enough for the whole room to hear: "can you get us a better table?" (and that before we had a chance to prove ourselves objectionable neighbours). The waiter said, more politely than the man's manner merited, that there were no other tables available. Persisting loudly, the man pointed to the only unoccupied table, set for four and with a reserved notice on it, and asked that they be given it. I felt that all he should be given was the door, but the waiter appraised the situation, noting that Herself and I were moving on to the coffee stage and that he would shortly be able to put two tables together for the expected foursome, and assented. The man's achievement was considerable: in two minutes he had managed to trouble the staff, introduce an unpleasant note into the entire room, contribute to the (usually unmerited) image of American visitors as boorish, and embarrass his dining partner. We finished our coffee, paid our bill (which was somewhere in the €60-70 range for two courses, wine by the glass, and coffee), and left. I am happy to recommend the place, and suggest that if you want to try it you book, and that when you get there you speak quietly. On to the Kursalon for our concert. It took place in a handsome salon where, we were told, Strauss had performed (not recently, I suppose). This time the string section was supported by piano and flute as before, and also by clarinet and percussion. The leader introduced the programme, and his manner seemed to me to lack authority; I thought it good that he was there as a musician rather than as a public speaker. I misjudged. As soon as the orchestra struck up I realised that the same lack of authority was manifest in the performance: it was not as tight and bright as we had experienced in the Palais Auersperg. This concert also featured two dancers and two singers. I was particularly impressed by the soprano, who had a sense of performance to match her voice, and the voice of the bass baritone blended wonderfully with hers -- a great partnership. Their rendition of Wiener Blut stayed in my head for days. Yet again Herself felt let down: they didn't perform the Emperor Waltz. After the concert we took a short stroll in the Stadtpark to pay a brief hommage at the gilded statue of Strauss, and returned to the hotel for our last night there. The following morning after breakfast we packed our bags and left them in the hotel's luggage room for collection in the afternoon. In checking out, I was asked what we had used from the mini-bar; it was evident that it was taken on trust because the question referred to our whole stay, not just the previous night. Room surrendered and account settled, we set out to use our last few hours in Vienna on a programme devised by Herself. The skies had cleared and, most mercifully, the wind had died down. It was the sort of weather we had hoped to experience throughout our visit. First, to the Winter Riding School to see if we could see the Lippizaner stallions being exercised. Yes, indeed, there was an hour-long session that day between 10.00 a.m. and 11.00 a.m. I looked at my watch; it was 11.00 a.m. Oh well, maybe another time. A short study of the archaeological site at Michaelerplatz, and another visit to Greinsteidl for coffee. Then Herself took control; there were things she wanted to see. First, to the Austrian National Library, to see the Prunksaal, a magnificent baroque library salon well worth seeing. Then to the Augustinerkirche, a coolly dignified gothic church, a contrast to the baroque extravagances of so many important Viennese buildings. Next, around by the Albertina (no time to visit it, and I didn't like the modern entrance because it didn't relate to the building or anything in the vicinity) and through the Burggarten where some people were taking advantage of the improvement in the weather and were actually sunbathing in November, and to the Volksgarten, which Herself wanted to visit. It proved to be a pleasant urban park, not very colourful at the onset of winter, but a good place to stroll a little and rejoice in not being rained upon or chilled by icy winds. Lunch seemed like a good idea, and we repaired to Cafe Einstein once more to enjoy its ambience and cheap sustenance. To the hotel to collect our bags, a journey by U-bahn and S-bahn to the airport, a struggle to disengage my psyche from the vicissitudes of air travel, and we got home safely. In retrospect, what did I think of Vienna as a destination? There is much to see and engage with there -- the architectural heritage of a city once at the centre of an empire, the historical legacy, the wealth of fine art, the tradition of music, the residue of centuries of prosperity. It is an impressive and interesting city, and worth seeing. In terms of value for money, I think we did well, and there does not seem to be the mindset that one often finds in many tourist destinations that visitors are fair game to be milked for as much money as possible. With one exception that was amusing rather than annoying (especially as the problem hit Herself rather than me) we were not badly treated by anybody. But despite those plusses, I did not warm to the place, and I ask myself why. I think the main reason is that, while just about everybody that we dealt with was polite and correct, even helpful when we asked for assistance, I did not find them friendly (I except the waitress in Greinstedl who shared genuine warm smiles with all her customers). People differ, and not everybody would agree with me: Herself came home with a better impression of the people we encountered. We did agree about the weather, and if we go again we will try to arrange for something better. While public transport is good (inexpensive and easy to figure out) Vienna is a city for walking, but cold winds and showers limited our scope somewhat. When we travel in Europe, we find that it is not a serious impediment if we do not speak much or any of the local language. It is good to acquire a few courtesy terms and use them. We avoid opening discussions in English without first asking if our interlocutor can speak it (to which the almost universal response is "a little" which might mean "three words -- and I have just used two of them" or it might mean "about as well as a native speaker"). Whatever their proficiency, the request engenders goodwill and communication is enabled, sometimes dependent more on smiles and gestures than on words. This worked fairly well in Vienna, except in two respects. The first was food, and the difficulty was not solely one of language. We do not know about Austrian cuisine; it seems to have an amount in common with both German and central European traditions with a local emphasis on boiled beef. It's not food we encounter often, and the names of dishes are not as familiar to us as those of classic French or Italian recipes. In some of the restaurants we visited the menu was available only in German. Not only did we not know the dishes by name, but we did not have enough German vocabulary to interpret what we read, beyond a word here and there. Hence our ordering of halibut thinking we were to get turbot, and my ending up one evening with boiled beef, which usually would not interest me. [If anybody is minded to suggest that we should have used a dictionary, my answer is that it would be of limited use. We did try the section in the guidebook which told us about Austrian dishes, but there was a very poor match between it and the menus we encountered.] Anyway, we survived and, for the most part, enjoyed our food. The second area in which lack of competence in the local language can be a shortcoming is the pursuit of disagreements or complaints. This came against us once, with Herself as the victim. We parted company briefly at the Hofburg to use public toilets there. For me, the transaction was simple: a payment of 50c was requested, and paid by leaving it on a plate. For Herself (and all women) there was less trust: the money was payable to an attendant. A woman who arrived at the same time as Herself tendered €1 and got 50c change; Herself tendered a €2 coin and the attendant gave her back the €1 that she had received from the other woman, and indicated that both of them had now paid and could proceed. Herself pointed to her change and the sign indicating the price, but the attendant paid no attention to her mute protest. But perhaps it was not a language issue: the other woman, who spoke German, protested on behalf of Herself, but achieved nothing. Without resorting to forceful methods, it is difficult to advance a complaint with a toilet attendant who turns her back and walks away. I suppose there is some consolation in being bilked for 50c rather than for €50. Addendum: After we got home, I dug out a recording of the Emperor Waltz and put it on. Herself was grateful for my effort, but disappointed with the recording because it omitted the introduction, the section she most likes. She just can't win.
From: David Horne, _the_ chancellor of the royal duchy of city south and deansgate on 13 Dec 2006 17:36 Padraig Breathnach <padraigb(a)MUNGEDiol.ie> wrote: [] Excellent trip report, as usual. I agree that Vienna is a city made for walking, though I note that when we visited a couple of years ago in July, it was unusually chilly and rained a lot- only the last day there was warm and sunny. It was lovely in Bratislava by comparison. I hope you do make it back to the latter sometime- I found it charming, though I'd agree with the general consensus it isn't worth that much time. Interesting what you say about English not being spoken much in restaurants. My german is fine for small talk and restaurant menus, but I found that in most of the places in the centre, they'd talk English to us when they realised my partner didn't speak any German. The exception was small cafes where we often had the lunch specials. Did I miss it, or did you not visit the KHM? It's a major collection, but maybe not your thing? Like you, I enjoyed the collection at the Belvedere. My favourite museum is probably the Leopold though- which is quite unique in its holdings of Schiele, Klimt, Kokoschka and so on. For myself, I'd skip the touristy concerts- you'll get better quality at a free concert in a conservatory almost anywhere- but, if you enjoyed it (and plenty people do) that's all that matters IMO. -- David Horne- http://www.davidhorne.net usenet (at) davidhorne (dot) co (dot) uk http://www.davidhorne.net/pictures.html http://soundjunction.org
From: Otter on 13 Dec 2006 18:12 "Padraig Breathnach" <padraigb(a)MUNGEDiol.ie> wrote in message news:oko0o2tm96g4u3h7a9282m05sj7cot6h83(a)4ax.com... > Vienna, November 2006 The report reflects my experience of people in Vienna, whom I found invariably helpful but made no particular concessions to tourists. The Freud Museum is interesting. It's in the house where Freud lived and worked, until he was compelled to move to London. The story goes that when the relevant Austrian Minister was outside the country, he was asked whether there was a Freud museum. He was "discomforted" to have to say that there wasn't one. Some years later, when the owner of the house died, the property was acquired and the museum established. Food at the main train stations is both good and cheap. The trains are also very efficient.
From: David Horne, _the_ chancellor of the royal duchy of city south and deansgate on 13 Dec 2006 18:16 Otter <konrad(a)lorenz.net> wrote: > "Padraig Breathnach" <padraigb(a)MUNGEDiol.ie> wrote in message > news:oko0o2tm96g4u3h7a9282m05sj7cot6h83(a)4ax.com... > > Vienna, November 2006 > > > The report reflects my experience of people in Vienna, whom I found > invariably helpful but made no particular concessions to tourists. > > The Freud Museum is interesting. It's in the house where Freud lived and > worked, until he was compelled to move to London. The story goes that when > the relevant Austrian Minister was outside the country, he was asked whether > there was a Freud museum. He was "discomforted" to have to say that there > wasn't one. Some years later, when the owner of the house died, the > property was acquired and the museum established. The Freud Museum is not particularly interesting in terms of Freud artefacts. There are more in his house in London. I found the visit unexpectedly moving though. -- David Horne- http://www.davidhorne.net usenet (at) davidhorne (dot) co (dot) uk http://www.davidhorne.net/pictures.html http://soundjunction.org
From: Padraig Breathnach on 13 Dec 2006 18:42 this_address_is_for_spam(a)yahoo.co.uk (David Horne, _the_ chancellor of the royal duchy of city south and deansgate) wrote: >Padraig Breathnach <padraigb(a)MUNGEDiol.ie> wrote: > >[] > >Excellent trip report, as usual. I agree that Vienna is a city made for >walking, though I note that when we visited a couple of years ago in >July, it was unusually chilly and rained a lot- only the last day there >was warm and sunny. It was lovely in Bratislava by comparison. I hope >you do make it back to the latter sometime- I found it charming, though >I'd agree with the general consensus it isn't worth that much time. > I'll do it from Budapest next time! That's one city I am always happy to go back to (even though my teeth are fine now). >Interesting what you say about English not being spoken much in >restaurants. My german is fine for small talk and restaurant menus, but >I found that in most of the places in the centre, they'd talk English to >us when they realised my partner didn't speak any German. The exception >was small cafes where we often had the lunch specials. > Our hotel was outside the ring (only one U-bahn stop out) and was not in prime tourist territory. The restaurants where they were not strong in English were in that neighbourhood. >Did I miss it, or did you not visit the KHM? It's a major collection, >but maybe not your thing? Like you, I enjoyed the collection at the >Belvedere. My favourite museum is probably the Leopold though- which is >quite unique in its holdings of Schiele, Klimt, Kokoschka and so on. > The KHM did not rise high enough on my list of interests to get done on a short visit. >For myself, I'd skip the touristy concerts- you'll get better quality at >a free concert in a conservatory almost anywhere- but, if you enjoyed it >(and plenty people do) that's all that matters IMO. > Touristy concerts are good enough for me. I don't have a very great interest in music, whereas you have. I would have liked to get a bit beyond the greatest hits of Mozart and Strauss, though. I wonder if you, as a specialist, would have been as impressed with the busker pianist as I was. Herself, more knowledgeable about piano than I am, was very impressed. -- PB The return address has been MUNGED My travel writing: http://www.iol.ie/~draoi/
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