Friends from school, Paul and Andrew, convinced me in the middle of our first term at Oxford that the three of us should go to Vienna. This conversation occurred near midnight the night before I had to turn in a paper, and under intense persuasion, I relented and we bought our plane tickets. We arrived in Vienna at the close of November, 2003. We had taken the earliest flight out of Heathrow (which gave us an hour or two of sleep) with the intention of using our time wisely. Buying our Vienna cards directly, we also had to buy train fare and navigate the u-bahn (which was surprisingly easy to do). We ended up throwing our bags down at the Wombats hostel and roaming the shopping street of Mariahilferstraase, then crashing until dark.
That night, we got up in time to dash to the Staatsoper. The Staatsoper was the first of the monumental public works projects around the Ringstrasse. When the Kaiser likened it to a train station, one of the architects committed suicide and the other reportedly died of a broken heart (a.k.a. heart attack) - both before the grand opening show of Mozart's Don Giovanni. The Staatsoper took a direct hit from an Allied bomb, and the only thing to survive was the Grand Staircase, so everything else was rebuilt in 1950 – as were many of Vienna’s glories.
We got standing-room rush tickets for that night's performance of the Nutcracker. Those beautiful, two-euro rush tickets go on sale an hour or two before the show. The trick is to get there early, go to claim your seat by tying a scarf around the railing space you need, have dinner or a coffee nearby and return for the show. We got there late and squeezed into the far corner of the right side and didn't see much of the show (except for the far left of the stage and the occasional hand as someone was lifted into the air), but the music in such a stunning, glittering space was enough to keep us happy.
Afterwards, without direction or plan, we decided to walk, and for hours, simply wandered and enjoyed the night view of glorious Baroque architecture. We probably saw most of the great buildings of central Vienna that night around the Ringstrasse. The city is shockingly compact.
We also had some fun when we peeked into the Bar at the Wombats, meeting terribly friendly people from various countries. Several were in our situation of studying abroad or taking time off to travel. It was my first experience of such travellers’ camaraderie that I’m sure hostels aim to promote, and I was delighted. The random wombat décor – wall murals, stuffed animals, etc. – helped.
The next morning, we went to the Heldenplatz outside the Neue Hofburg and went across the street to Maria Theresa platz, then spent hours at the Kunsthistoriches Museum. Most museums in Europe were former palaces, but the K was built exclusively as a museum with the finest materials and best craftsmen. It stands opposite the Natural History museum, which we didn't visit, but the K was wonderful.
Highlights (a.k.a. things I was surprised to find there): Raphael’s "Madonna in the Meadow," Archimboldo’s "Summer" and others, Rubens’s "The Fur," several Rembrandts and Vermeers, some of Velazquez’s Margarita Teresas, a Francis Bacon exhibit and Canaletto’s views of Vienna. We ran through the Egyptian and Roman & Greek Antiquities sections so as to not miss them entirely, but simply couldn’t have done them justice.
We found ourselves lunch, then proceeded (at the hour of 3) to go to the Osterreisches Galerie – a.k.a. The Belvedere. We managed to get ourselves lost in the process, but were rewarded with the spectacular sweeping view of the Belvedere Palace from the entrance by the Lower Belvedere. As the sun set, the pink sky with the hint of a crescent moon gave an air of magic to the gardens as we walked, awestruck, past statues and trimmed hedges. The museum’s collection itself was our favourite, though. An amazing grouping of Austrian art, it was here that I fell in love with Klimt. I had never before appreciated his work until I found myself in the halls of the Belvedere, gazing at the sensuous figures and glittering gold. We stayed until the building closed and were sent off into the dark gardens, only to find after the ten-minute stroll to the lower gate that we had been locked in. After a while of standing, uncertain of what to do, we eventually banged on lit windows of the gift shop until a scowling Austrian guard showed us through the shop and through a side entrance. It wouldn’t have been the worst place to be stranded for the night, admittedly.
Highlights: Klimt’s "The Kiss," Klimt’s "Judith," Feuerbach’s "Orpheus and Eurydice," Monet’s "Path in the Artist’s Garden at Giverny," Makart’s "Bacchus and Ariadne," and so many others I can’t even think. They had a lovely grouping entirely composed of Viennese family portraits.
Afterwards, we were pleasantly surprised by the delightful Christkindlmarkt as we stopped to see the Rathaus. It seemed like the entire square was filled with laughter, light, and bizarre variations on the traditional Santa hat. We had a wonderful time, squeezing through crowds to see countless ornament stands and sampling various chocolates, candies… and, lest we forget, the punch. We each bought a hat which we wore back to the hostel, despite the pointing and laughing of Austrian teenagers.
We were up early the next day to make our way to Schloss Schoenbrunn, which was our favourite palace. The summer palace of the Hapsburgs, it lies just outside of truly central Vienna and has sprawling gardens and a Gloriette that sits at the top of the hill behind it to gaze down at the palace and southwest Vienna. At Schoenbrunn, you cannot escape the obsession that the royal histories seem to have with poor Elisabeth (also known as Sisi). Married to Franz Joseph at 15, he loved her desperately and she didn’t quite return the affection. A great beauty, she had a rather tragic life. Introverted and shy, she was obsessed with exercise (Paul commented that with the time spent sitting for portraits, it’s amazing she had time to do anything else) and would be anorexic under today’s standards. She had two daughters – one died early – and a son – who committed suicide. She herself was assassinated with a file on one of her many travels. Paul bought her biography "The Reluctant Empress," which made it look like he was reading a romance novel on the u-bahn. In any case, we snagged a picture of Andrew and me dancing in the grand ballroom, but the lack of flash caused it to be a bit blurry – which is slightly cool in an "I still wish it were clearer and there wasn’t a group of elderly tourists in the background" way. There was a Christkindlmarkt set up there, but as it was noonish, it wasn’t as cool as the Rathaus one.
We returned to Stephansdom, which we had visited our first night but wanted to view in daylight. I think I preferred it at night. Spotlights illuminated the incredible coloured tiles on the roof, and at night, looking up, you feel like it’s impossible not to lose your balance. It gives the impression that at its height, it’s possible that it could touch heaven through the clouds.
We had "lunch" at Demel’s – a.k.a., we ate sachertorte.
We saw Michaelerkirche and Peterskirche, two small and stunning churches. Small by comparison to others around the city, especially the recently viewed Stephansdom.
We went to the Hofburg Palace and were impressed, but still preferred Schoenbrunn. We managed to visit the Leopold Museum in the Museumquartier, which had an excellent collection of Klimt’s sketches. We had a nice dinner and were able to see Votivskirche and then caught the tail end of the Karlsplatz Christkindlmarkt and sipped punch while gazing at Karlskirche illuminated at night.
I left early the next morning so I could make it back for a tutorial in Oxford that night, but the boys stayed long enough to see the Secession Building – which only ensures that I’ll have to go back.
I couldn’t have been happier with the trip. My first excursion in a non-English-speaking country was without tragedy or emergency. We were able to not just see what we intended to, but savour everything, too. I had, perhaps since my childhood infatuation with "The Sound of Music," been intrigued by Austria, but after this trip, it will always hold a special place in my heart, and I intend to return someday to further explore the country and Vienna itself.
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