Vienna

My first night in Vienna was mostly spent sprawled on couches in the hostel lounge, worn out from the long train ride (why is it that sitting down for hours tires you so?) but too awake to try for sleep. I accomplished little on this first night, seeing nothing of the town but at least meeting Maximo and Gerardo, two friendly Argentinians.

The following day — my only full day in Vienna — was thoroughly enjoyable despite the best efforts of the weather to drive me inside. Schloss Schönbrunn is a delightful palace surrounded by vast gardens, and I spent most of the morning wandering the grounds, coming across the oldest zoo in the world and a hedge labyrinth. To my dismay, both were closed for the winter. The cold weather also forced all of the statues to rug up — each one was covered in a plastic sheet — but the grounds were full of hardy joggers sweating away, some of whom were surely wearing more clothes than me.

In the afternoon I headed into the old town district of Vienna. Despite the poor weather the wide streets, grand buildings and generous areas of parkland were all pretty and combined to give the centre of town a charming feel. Eventually drenched by the persistent rain, I headed to the Opera House (Wiener Staatsoper), where I bought a standing-room ticket (only €4!) for that night’s opera: Manon, a French opera about a young lady who runs off with a man she meets at a train station rather than become a nun. The opera was quite an experience, not as amusing or ‘modern’ as the version of Titus that I saw in Oslo, but interesting and well worth seeing nonetheless. I then hurried through the sodden streets to the hostel, arriving just in time to cook a light dinner before the kitchen closed for the night, and I talked with Maximo and Gerardo well into the night.

Vienna trivia #1: apparently one of the most popular terms of endearment in Austria is “schiessel”, which translates to “my little shit”. Seriously. I wish I were making this up.

We met again the next morning checking out of the hostel, myself headed for Spain and the Argentinians to Prague. With the morning hours ahead of us we took a tram to the Belvedere, one of the most famous art galleries in Vienna. Housed in the beautiful Belvedere Palace, the gallery is divided into the upper and lower Belvedere, corresponding to the two separate buildings that face each other across a wide stretch of gardens. The palace was commissioned by Prince Eugene of Savoy, one of the most prominent military commanders in European history: the lower Belvedere was completed in 1716 as an entertainment villa where the Prince brought rare plants and exotic animals from around the world; the upper Belvedere, a larger and grander building, was completed only a few years later and became the Prince’s main summer residence.

Searching for the museum entrance in the elegant gardens surrounding the palace, several ideas for humorous photos involving the garden statues were suggested, but none were carried out. This was probably a wise decision. Inside, the upper Belvedere was simply majestic and as much an attraction itself as were the artworks on display. My available time flew by as we wandered from room to room sharing a single audio guide (students are cheap, after all) and by the early afternoon I needed to head to the airport. I did not leave before convincing a nearby tourist to take a photo of the three of us — one of the few photos taken with my camera in which I appear (I do not understand the tourist craze of taking photos with yourself prominent in the foreground).

Vienna trivia #2: The most important event in post-war Austria was the ceremonial signing of the Austrian State Treaty on 15 May 1955 in the Upper Belvedere, which restored Austria’s sovereignty.

I arrived at the airport to discover that, despite no additions to my luggage since my previous flight several months ago, the weight of my pack had increased by 1.5kg to a near-overweight 19.5kg. I have decided that either some hostel joker has hidden lead weights in my pack, or the airlines miscalibrate their scales in order to part travellers from their money. The cynic in me leans heavily towards the second option. Nevertheless, I passed through the security check unmolested and boarded a bus that took us to the plane, sitting alone on a vast expanse of tarmac in the uncharted regions of the airport.

Before boarding I loitered on the runway to take several photos of the setting sun, to the amusement of some of the airport staff. Once on the plane, I found I had the luxury of an entire row of seats at the very back of the plane, and as the plane rose above the clouds I took several further photos of the sunset as we flew over the Austrian Alps. Only a short time later I would land in Barcelona, hoping for warmer weather and not much else.