Snippets of Vienna.

Snippets of Vienna.

October 2002 & June 2003. 

I always feel a bit uncomfortable when people ask me if I’ve ever been to Vienna. This is because while I have visited (twice actually), it isn’t a city I was able to get under the skin of. In fact, I barely brushed the surface. Circumstances very much dictated how those Vienna trips played out. Now, when I look back, the city remains something of a fragmented thing in my mind’s eye.

That’s not to say Vienna doesn’t hold a special place in the old memory box. On the contrary, thinking back on my time there never fails to make me smile. My first visit came in October 2002. I was living in the Slovak capital Bratislava at the time, where I’d recently taken up a post as an English teacher.

In that first month I fell in with a wonderful crowd of characters. Two of these, Jon from Nashville and Ben from York (England), I got on so well with we decided to set off on a weekend break to Vienna. It was a chance to a) get to know each other better and b) make an early start on crossing off some of the many countries surrounding Slovakia.

Snippets of Vienna.

The ride from capital to capital was a breeze, just ninety minutes even with our train’s leisurely and somewhat clunky pace. On arrival we checked into our hostel, where we’d booked a clean but poky box room with bunk beds.

I can’t remember if the place was a former hospital or even an asylum, but it had a creepy feel with its long, echoey corridors and bare walls. In any case I’m unable to track down precisely where we stayed, despite my best Googling efforts.

The day had been grey and drizzly from the moment we stepped off the train. But by the time we left the hostel and headed out into the city centre the weather was rapidly declining further. Before long the rain was positively running riot and we didn’t have a single umbrella or jacket hood between us.

As such, I only got my camera out for a few choice occasions. One was here on Heldenplatz Square with its statue of the Archduke Charles of Austria on horseback. 

Born in 1847 to Emperor Leopold II and Maria Luisa of Spain, Charles rose up the ranks of the Royal Army to become a revered field marshal. He eventually positioned himself as one of Napoleon’s most fierce and formidable adversaries. Today he’s considered one of the greatest generals of the Napoleonic Wars.

Archduke Charles of Austria (1771-1847).

His statue is one of two on Heidenplatz Square erected in the 1860s to glorify the Hapsburg Dynasty. I’d have liked a closer look at ol’ Charles, but the relentless rain beat us away in search of shelter.

Photo courtesy of Jorge Láscar.

I can’t say for certain how much history and culture we had set out to absorb that weekend. But whatever we’d had in mind the elements really did a job on us. Thoroughly soaked, we soon decamped to one of the city’s famous cafes to sample the atmosphere and dry off a bit.

I recall it being a cavernous joint with marble columns, fancy net curtains and waiters in white shirts and black ties. Moreover, some of the customers were fancily dressed and made up, particularly the old women with their fur coats and rouge. Our coffees set us back a pretty penny but it was worth it to be out of the pissing rain.

My only photo of that cafe makes me smile, not least the sight of Jon’s fabulous brown leather coat. It had belonged to his father who’d acquired it for free in 1938 when he bought an Indian motorcycle for a trip he was about to undertake from Robbinsville (North Carolina) to Chicago. That coat was an ever-present feature of our year in Bratislava. And indeed all the trips we took together across The Czech Republic, Hungary and Poland.

Snippets of Vienna.

The rain did not let up. So with our stomachs rumbling we accepted defeat and sought out an early dinner. We wanted a small, unassuming traditional Austrian joint. A round of wiener schnitzels, goulash and some beers would be just the ticket.

Happily, we found what we were looking for with ease, though once again I have no idea what the place was called. What I do remember is our waitress, a 6o-something Austrian dame, being thoroughly charmed by Jon and his Tennessee twang. And so she made sure that the beers kept coming while we worked on our hot and hearty meals.

Weather wise day two in Vienna was no better than the first. Thus our visit quickly descended into little more than an ongoing pub crawl. Not that we minded. After all we were young, full of excitement at the year ahead and keen to find out about each other. It was Ben who first got me to look deeper into Bob Dylan. Jon who turned me onto Johnny Cash.

Snippets of Vienna.

We walked each other through our eventful albeit short life histories and speculated on more potential travel plans across the region. Ben was something of a political enthusiast, hence there was plenty of talk about the post 9-11 society we found ourselves in. And on U.S. presidents, Israel and Palestine, Churchill, the IRA bombings of the 80s and more.

On a much lighter note, the conversation never strayed too far from the female teachers we had our eyes on at school. Such were the days. And through it all the beers kept flowing and I found myself unable (and unwilling) to keep up with them both.

Back at the hostel there was some drama when, just before lights out, Jon suddenly lost his balance and fell from the top bunk. He hit the floor with an almighty thud where he lay gasping for a minute or two. Partly due to how badly winded he was, but also because all three of us were laughing so damn hard. He sustained no major injuries. 

In between these cafes, bars and eateries we did at least find some time to pop our heads into St. Stephen’s Cathedral. It was teeming inside, thanks to the rain. Breaking off into different directions, we wandered the old girl’s aisles and explored its chambers, taking in the vast array of classical art. This, along with the inescapable weight of over 400 years of history, definitely helped sober me up.

St. Stephen’s Cathedral.

In truth though the cathedral served as but a temporary respite from alcohol. That evening we made our way to Champions Sports Bar to catch live coverage of England’s 2004 European Championships qualifier against Slovakia. Which, funnily enough, was taking place back in Bratislava.

It turned out to be a typically unconvincing performance from England, who scraped through 2-1 with goals from David Beckham and Michael Owen. As we watched, Ben and I did our best to explain the intricacies and delicacies of soccer to Jon, including a somewhat chaotic explanation of the offside trap using salt and pepper shakers.  

I remember next to nothing of our communal stumbling back to the hostel that night. Thankfully, the below photo sheds some light on the manner of shenanigans that unfolded. I have no idea where we found the shopping trolley, nor indeed where it was ultimately discarded. 

Snippets of Vienna.

As fun as my Vienna experience had been, I did have a few regrets about how little of the city we actually explored. Luckily, I got a second bite of the cherry eight months later in the summer of 2003. This time myself, Jon and Ben were joined by my then-girlfriend Julia, her friend Katie and the always affable Irish Mike, who I later wrote a screenplay with in Amsterdam.

Unfortunately, I have just six (facepalm) photographs from that second weekend. And I certainly can’t use the weather as an excuse, as it was dry and warm on both of our days hitting the streets. Which was just as well, as we often needed to stop and find our way.

The below shot captures us on The Graben, possibly Vienna’s grandest square packed with cafes, restaurants and stores. I love its origin story, which claims the area was dug out and developed by Leopold V using the ransom money he collected from Britain after kidnapping Richard the Lionheart.

With no excuses this time around we made sure to pay a visit to Mozarthhaus. Yes, the onetime residence of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who shacked up here between 1784 and 1787. Mozart lived in a bunch of houses across Vienna during his short life, but this is the only surviving structure and therefore the perfect spot for a Mozart museum.

Mozarthaus.

Back in 2002 there wasn’t an awful lot to the exhibition. Still, it was cool to see a few of the great composer’s handwritten letters and a handful of personal possessions. There was also a row of audio booths where one could sit back and let a symphony or two sweep you away. A few years after our visit the museum underwent a significant renovation project which lasted several years. It finally reopened in 2006 to mark the 250th anniversary of his birth. 

We also strolled the sculpted gardens of Schonbrunn Palace. The 300-year-old complex was home to a succession of Hapsburg monarchs who enjoyed the 1440-room palace as a summer residence.

Photo courtesy of C.Stadler/Bwag.

Today only 40 of those rooms are open to the public, including the private apartments of Emperor Franz Josef I and his wife Empress Sisi (Elizabeth).  The main section of the gardens meanwhile, laid out in 1779, are free to wander. Though there are some special parts, such as the Orangerie and the Privy Garden, that require a ticket. 

Snippets of Vienna.

My visits to Vienna came at a really special time of my life. It was a period of carefree and innocent youth that, little did I know it then, could never be truly recaptured. But if the stars ever align and grant me a third opportunity to explore the Austrian capital, I know that Sladja and I will do the city the justice that I never quite managed all those years ago.

For more on my travel adventures and experiences around this time, head to my short story collection The Slovak Files. 

I ave also written travel reports on The Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary and Poland.

I’ve been living, working and traveling all over the world since 2001. So why not check out my huge library of travel reports from over 40 countries.