Except that we’re on a train to Vienna, and the bar has been raised.
Sad to leave Hungary, and as we head to the border we see the usual forest of wind turbines. Crossing over into Austria, the forest continues, and it goes on, and on, and on… Half an hour into Austria and still wind turbines everywhere. I quietly weep at how in NZ we’re so scared to put up wind turbines in case someone doesn’t like the look of them on a hill, yet we’re hell-bent on deep-sea oil drilling. Our priorities are sadly askew.
We arrive at Vienna’s Westbahnhof and make our way to our apartment just to the south of the city centre. The place is dead. Where are the shops? Where are the people? There are a few bars and restaurants open, but that’s it. Our host Miro explains that Vienna closes on Sundays - it’s a day of quiet and rest. And by the way, the Internet is down. Rebooting the router doesn’t help, and Miro calls the Telco. First impressions of Vienna aren’t that great - there’s more life and better Internet in the smallest towns in Cambodia.
We have no choice but to head out for dinner, and find the SchwarzAdler (Black Eagle) pub. After an excellent Wiener Schnitzel and fine ale I’m feeling much better about things.
Monday 3 November and we set out to explore. It’s cold and foggy, and I’m slightly under-dressed, as Accuweather predicts the fog and temperatures will lift in the next hour. It continues to predict that for the entire day. I predict I’ll dropkick Accuweather out of my iPhone.
But despite the shaky start and being chilled to the core, I can’t deny the fact that Vienna is a magical place, and worthy of being called one of the worlds great cities.
Vienna is open on Monday, and our first stop is the Naschmarkt for breakfast.
The centre of Vienna is magnificent.
From the Hofburg Palace (centre of the Hapsburg dynasty) to the Rathouse (town hall) to the ornate churches, to the glitzy pedestrian malls and shopping streets, to the grand open plazas with gilded statues, to the old Roman ruins protected yet accessible - this place exudes charm, wealth and class. It’s a bit like Budapest, but in a grander, cleaner and more affluent style.
One of the beauties of Vienna is that all the buildings are on a human scale. Monumental yes, but only a few stories tall, apart from the gothic spires. No nasty glass high rises overshadowing the essence of Vienna - they’re all relegated to commercial areas on the periphery. Good-looking people are everywhere, purposeful but not frantic, mostly on foot and on bike. Vienna seems to have struck a nice balance between pedestrians, bikes and cars. When you see old people ambling along on a bike and mixing it safely with Porsches you feel good about a city. No sign of lycra-clad high-viz helmeted road warriors here.
Hundertwasser made a real impression on the Kiwi art scene during the 90s, with his lasting legacy being the Kawakawa toilets.
We were keen to see how Austrians responded to their quirky son, so set off to the east to see the HunderwasserHaus, an apartment complex bounded by a loop in the Danube. Spurning drab colours, straight lines and flat floors, these apartments are something out of a fairytale. Not sure what they’d be like to live in continuously though. Carrying on to the nearby Kunsthaus gallery we see more of Hundertwasser’s work.
I suspect I’m one of the few people who has used a Hundertwasser toilet on both sides of the world.
Dying in 2000, Hundertwasser is buried in NZ. Wrapped just in a shroud without a coffin, he wanted a tree planted on top of him so he could live on through the tree. I can relate to that, but I’m not so fussed. I’ve told Pauline and the kids they can bury my ashes down in the swamp at Schnapper Rock cemetery where the pukekos strut around. That’ll do me. If I live on through pukekos I know I’ll be around a while!
Hundertwasser had an interesting design for a New Zealand flag too.
Perhaps we should just adopt it and get on with it. But John Key has a hidden agenda here. Let’s distract NZ with a controversy over a new flag - that’ll keep the populace anaesthetised to the TPP, RMA, RONS, environmental degradation and poverty. Toss in an All Black win and all will be good with Godzone. Sorry - if you read my travel blog you have to put up with my political rantings too.
One of the beauties of Vienna is that all the buildings are on a human scale. Monumental yes, but only a few stories tall, apart from the gothic spires. No nasty glass high rises overshadowing the essence of Vienna - they’re all relegated to commercial areas on the periphery. Good-looking people are everywhere, purposeful but not frantic, mostly on foot and on bike. Vienna seems to have struck a nice balance between pedestrians, bikes and cars. When you see old people ambling along on a bike and mixing it safely with Porsches you feel good about a city. No sign of lycra-clad high-viz helmeted road warriors here.
Hundertwasser made a real impression on the Kiwi art scene during the 90s, with his lasting legacy being the Kawakawa toilets.
Dying in 2000, Hundertwasser is buried in NZ. Wrapped just in a shroud without a coffin, he wanted a tree planted on top of him so he could live on through the tree. I can relate to that, but I’m not so fussed. I’ve told Pauline and the kids they can bury my ashes down in the swamp at Schnapper Rock cemetery where the pukekos strut around. That’ll do me. If I live on through pukekos I know I’ll be around a while!
Hundertwasser had an interesting design for a New Zealand flag too.
Tuesday is a remarkable change. Warm and sunny, we revisit our favourite spots and visit more.
We’re not so fussed about “doing” all the splendid palaces. Grabbing a filled roll, sitting and chatting in the park, observing the kids at play, and watching the golden autumn leaves gently drift down in front of the Hofberg makes much more sense to us.
Vienna is famed both for its coffee and its cafes. At last I don’t have to put up with a weak latte or frothy cappuccino, or try and explain what a flat white is.
A Viennese Melange is pretty close to a flat white, and so easy to order. We drop in to Cafe Central, one of Vienna’s famous cafes, and order coffee and cake. A real sense of history when you read you’re sitting in the same cafe frequented by Freud, Trotsky and the poet Altenburg. In fact Altenburg spent so much time here he gave it as his home address. Judging by the cakes and coffee, I can understand why.
That’s him there in the photo.
Altenberg eventually separated himself from his family of origin by dropping out of both law and medical school, and embracing Bohemianism as a permanent lifestyle choice. His detractors wrote him off as a womaniser and drug addict. His admirers considered him to be a highly creative individual with a great love for the aesthetic, for nature, and for young girls. Read into that what you will.
We’ve factored in four full days in Vienna, with the intention of using one of them to get out of town on a day trip - economical as the travel is still covered by our Eurail pass. An obvious choice from the guidebooks is a trip through the Wachau Valley between Melk and Krems, but while the Danube still flows in November, the riverboats seem to stop in October. Perhaps we can bike the river banks instead? Weather’s looking good, and I load up the NextBike app on my iPhone just in case. If the weather turns dog we can either catch a bus, or just sit in a cafe.
We arrive at Melk.
The abbey on the hill looks marvellous. We poke our nose in, but it’s about $40 for entry and it’ll take half a day to explore. There’s only so much religious baroque iconography you can take in anyway. Pauline agrees, we unlock our NextBikes and we’re on our way. Good call.
We cross the Danube to the northern side, and follow the river downstream on a well-formed cycle path.
Quaint little villages, vineyards and spectacular views to castles across the river open up as we pedal along.
This is magic, and much better than a stuffy abbey full of tourists.
Our ride reminds me a bit of the Otago Rail Trail. Cruising along, wondering in awe at the views, stopping frequently for photos, and then finding an unassuming little local cafe for lunch. For the first time in our trip our waitress has no English, but with the assistance of Google Translate and halting Schuler Deutsch we decide what we want and order. The food is great, and washed down by zwei Melange we’re on our way.
Bad signposting and a lack of research on the part of the navigator means we unnecessarily cross the Danube an extra couple of times, but what the hell - the views are great and the extra exercise doesn’t hurt.
Does it Pauline? Her aching legs after 50kms of biking on a a heavy 3-speed city commuter bike are starting to complain - 20 km ago. I don’t often get the daggers look, but I guess it’s deserved today. Hopefully love and chocolate will fix everything.
We get to Krems an der Donau at dusk - a little behind schedule. It's a fairly dodgy trip through busy streets to find the station. A chocolate treat before boarding the train back to Vienna restores a happy relationship equilibrium.
Our final day in Vienna. I know what you’re thinking - they haven’t mentioned the Vienna Boys Choir yet. Indeed - but it’s not quite us.
Vienna is famed both for its coffee and its cafes. At last I don’t have to put up with a weak latte or frothy cappuccino, or try and explain what a flat white is.
Altenberg eventually separated himself from his family of origin by dropping out of both law and medical school, and embracing Bohemianism as a permanent lifestyle choice. His detractors wrote him off as a womaniser and drug addict. His admirers considered him to be a highly creative individual with a great love for the aesthetic, for nature, and for young girls. Read into that what you will.
We’ve factored in four full days in Vienna, with the intention of using one of them to get out of town on a day trip - economical as the travel is still covered by our Eurail pass. An obvious choice from the guidebooks is a trip through the Wachau Valley between Melk and Krems, but while the Danube still flows in November, the riverboats seem to stop in October. Perhaps we can bike the river banks instead? Weather’s looking good, and I load up the NextBike app on my iPhone just in case. If the weather turns dog we can either catch a bus, or just sit in a cafe.
We arrive at Melk.
We cross the Danube to the northern side, and follow the river downstream on a well-formed cycle path.
Our ride reminds me a bit of the Otago Rail Trail. Cruising along, wondering in awe at the views, stopping frequently for photos, and then finding an unassuming little local cafe for lunch. For the first time in our trip our waitress has no English, but with the assistance of Google Translate and halting Schuler Deutsch we decide what we want and order. The food is great, and washed down by zwei Melange we’re on our way.
Bad signposting and a lack of research on the part of the navigator means we unnecessarily cross the Danube an extra couple of times, but what the hell - the views are great and the extra exercise doesn’t hurt.
We get to Krems an der Donau at dusk - a little behind schedule. It's a fairly dodgy trip through busy streets to find the station. A chocolate treat before boarding the train back to Vienna restores a happy relationship equilibrium.
Our final day in Vienna. I know what you’re thinking - they haven’t mentioned the Vienna Boys Choir yet. Indeed - but it’s not quite us.
More to the point we haven’t mentioned the Spanish Riding School yet.
Now I’m not exactly a horsey person, but if I’m inflicting a KTM Factory Tour on Pauline, the least I can do is shout her to whatever’s going at one of the world’s most famous riding schools.
Sadly we’ve missed the main performance itself - only happens on a Sunday (and at great expense). But nearly as impressive are the morning exercises and the guided tour through the stables, gear rooms and winter performance hall.
I’ll let Pauline describe all the detail when you catch up with her, but even for me it was a great day. Still rather sit on a KTM though.
Late afternoon and we hit the Leopold art gallery in the Museum Quarter. Noted for it’s permanent displays of Gustav Klimpt and Egon Schiele, there’s also a special exhibition of work by Alberto Giacometti.
Schiele was a protege of Klimpt’s, and his work is noted for its intensity and raw sexuality.
I wonder if this poster would go down well in conservative Auckland? Sadly Schiele died at the age of 28 in 1918, a victim of the Spanish flu epidemic. So much unrealised potential.
Late afternoon and we hit the Leopold art gallery in the Museum Quarter. Noted for it’s permanent displays of Gustav Klimpt and Egon Schiele, there’s also a special exhibition of work by Alberto Giacometti.
Schiele was a protege of Klimpt’s, and his work is noted for its intensity and raw sexuality.
You’ll recognise a Giacometti - his extraordinary stick-like sculptures are well known.
Yes, Vienna is one of the world’s great cities. I could live here, I could settle into a Bohemian lifestyle here, I could ride here, and I could die here. Don’t get me to choose between Amsterdam, Prague and Vienna - I love them all for different reasons.
But Auckland’s home, and I love it too - it just needs to change a lot. Stand by for more advocacy when I get back.
Tomorrow I think we're heading for Salzburg, but Pauline has a little treat in mind. A diversion back to the Czech Republic. I wonder what she's thinking?
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