Danke Schön (Vienna, Austria, part 2)

The day dawned, apparently. I was vaguely aware of the rain pattering on the window sills. The sound was familiar and I knew I recognised it but the fug of sleep and double glazed windows kept me from complete comprehension. Finally, it dawned on me, brighter than the day. Rain. No rush to get out of bed.

Our last full day in Vienna commenced with the mundane. Domestic chores such as ironing and a minor reorganisation of bags in preparation for tomorrow's departure. The rain was due to clear early so we thought we'd wait it out. As has become practice, our last day is generally not too strenuous. With the weather and the drop in temperature, we were never straying far from home base.

Mid-morning the rain looked to have cleared so out we went. No umbrella, although I was wearing my yellow jacket. Twenty metres into the walk, the drizzle recommenced. Just heavy enough to be annoying and make us consider returning to the apartment for a brolly. 

I was in a reflective mood.

We pushed on. First stop, St Stephen's Platz. Yes, dear reader, we have been here previously, but the weather today ensured reduced crowds. Photography would be easier but the photos would suffer from a lack of blue sky. As we wandered the main areas around the platz, coffee was on the agenda. Higher on the agenda was Pandora.

Another spire visible from everywhere.

Strangely, Jayne had remembered exactly where the store is situated. Inside we were greeted warmly by the staff and the warm air conditioning. They made us feel very welcome, unlike the Pandora staff in Prague. The Vienna staff also made a sale, unlike the Prague staff. They recommended the Central Café as the pinnacle of Viennese destinations for coffee and cake.

Where were the crowds?

The Central Café was also on the exhaustive list of things to do in Vienna from Aaron and Adam. I also knew we had little chance of getting in. The queue was lengthy by my standards and it was very cold in the wind. No go at the Central. I noted earlier that Café Sacher was equally in demand. We settled for Aïda, which provided good coffee and brownie ( no not that sort) and a shelter from the elements. Unless you are smoker, then you have to stay outside, indulge your habit and freeze. As many opted to do.

We had booked a tour of the Opera House and so decided to make our way there, thinking we would be able to burn some time in the foyer. After circumnavigating the building to locate the entrance, we discovered there was zero access until 15 minutes before the scheduled start of the tour.

It was time to bite the bullet and try that quintessential of Viennese cuisine, the würstel. One the most highly referred stands was across the street from the opera house. We had two recommendations of würstel to try, bosna and another one that was chopped and drowned in 'ketchup'. I saw the latter, whatever it was called and it was a straight up no. So we split a bosna.

The würstel stand.

The verdict? It was the worst. Come on, you knew I'd do it. A sausage on a roll with raw onion, parsley, curry powder and more mustard than was necessary. And there was a queue to purchase this substandard fare. I'd rather go hungry.

Back to the growing queue at the Opera House doors. Eventually we made it inside to a rather grand foyer area which was the various tours' gathering point, all of which had been segregated into language groups: French (for the massive school group), German, Spanish, Dutch, Italian and lastly English. There were no instructions and no one really appeared to be in charge. There were, however, people darting back and forth beyond the ropes that corralled us.

Part of the foyer. They love ceiling art.

Eventually the groups began to move off in order with a guide. The English speakers were last. We longingly watched the other groups depart, one by one. Occasionally they re-emerged on a stairwell or landing and criss-crossed each other. Our group was divided in two before we moved anywhere which meant there were 7 separate groups being escorted around the building. The sort of precision that was required to ensure groups didn't merge or crash each other's areas was akin to the skills of a high diver completing a reverse four and half somersault in pike position. Today's result? A belly flop.

Heading up from the foyer.

The tour itself was interesting, if a little rushed. Our enjoyment was diminished by the crowding of other groups as their commentary collided with ours, making it difficult to hear.  I know it is a money making venture and they are trying to limit the impact on the daily functioning of the opera house, but some organisational planning and limits on the number of groups would go a long way to improving the experience for everyone. We are intending to visit the Palais Garnier in Paris so there will a viable comparison in a few days' time.

A chandelier from underneath.

Out into the cold we walked home via a very different Burggarten. It was the antithesis of the crowded, people-filled space we'd seen on a  sunny afternoon, not long ago. Today it was virtually empty, there were no picnicers in sight.

The boxes.

That is pretty much our last full day in Vienna. We dropped into the supermarket to get some supplies for tomorrow's train trip and went home to pack. Paris is our next destination and for the first time we have abandoned train travel and are flying. No bag drag, we have pre-booked a taxi.

Which brings us to the song and title. The song is spelt, Danke Schoen and was made famous by Wayne Newton. It was given a second life in the movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Funny, I always thought it was sung by a woman.

Until next time.

Palace (Vienna, Austria, part 1)

Ah, Vienna. A return visit, dear reader, because we did not have sufficient time here in 2022. Being the second time around also meant not having to see some of the more obvious tourist spots because we've already ticked that box.

This post will cover two days because the pictures will do the talking for me. Unless you would like a history lesson? No? Ok. There are a few interesting anecdotes to share along the way. 

We spent almost the entire day in the Hofburg precinct. It is about a 25 minute walk from our flat as our host insisted on calling it. It was Sunday and there was definitely something happening in the adjacent Volksgarten. We'll check that out on the way home.

Looks like a good spot to make a speech.

The Hofburg is a massive sprawling complex that contains the Sisi Museum, monuments, statues and a church among other things. It is naturally home to the Hofburg Palace. Sadly we were unable to go inside. Hitler delivered his speech from the balcony of the palace following the Anschluss in 1938. He always did have an eye for the grand moment. A pity he was a delusional narcissist. Comparisons anyone?

We spent the next few hours in the Imperial Treasury looking at gowns, crowns, jewels, church pieces, riding crops, swords and so, so much more. Sadly photography was limited, not so much by the darkened rooms but by glass cases surrounding the artefacts. Taking a photo that wasn't destroyed by reflections became the challenge for the day.

A series of royal riding crops, y'know.

A fancy hat.

Something for the smoking room.

The royal crib.

A very large emerald.

The spear of destiny. Constantine!

The next stop was the Prunksthall. In English, a state hall and in this case, the National Library. I haven't been this gobsmacked since walking into an overly gilded and decorated church. Just wow. Antique books from floor to domed ceiling. Well almost to the ceiling. Timber shelves. Timber ladders. Frescos everywhere you turned. It was just astonishing. Curiously, it fails as a library, you can't borrow the books.

This

is

a

library. Books!

From one extravagant building to another: Augustinerkirche. No further comment required.

They love a chandelier.

It was time to commence the walk home through the Burggarten and then to the Volksgarten and Maria Theresa Platz, that vast space in between two museums. The Volksgarten seemed to be enjoying some sort of music festival. Not for people for our advanced years. We kept moving.

Sunshine = Burggarten.

As you can imagine, dear reader, all this walking and standing and reading plaques and listening to audio guides takes its toll. As we approached the Museumsquartier, we decided it was time for a refreshing beer. Aside from the numerous museums, the interior courtyard houses several cafés. Just the place for a beer, some people watching and research about the museums that surround us.

The entrance to the Museumsquartier.

The wind whipped up as we were enjoying our beers and people watching. The viewing spectacle was enhanced by hats being chased across the courtyard. The nearer the former hat wearer moved to the hat, the further the wind moved it away. It was as if the wind gusts were timed by some hidden comedian. As the man at the next table picked up his beer, the wind gusted again. What was to be his first sip through the copious froth became a salvage mission as he wiped the foam from his face, shoulder and sleeve.

Later we watched an older couple (like really old, older than us) who were bicycling their way around the sites, arrive in the middle of the courtyard. They peddled to a stop, dismounted, had an animated discussion with finger pointing and then the male indicated to his better half that he was walking off and left her with both bikes. Her response was to calmly survey the area, remove her helmet and light up a smoke. Eventually her absconding partner returned (not sure from where), helmet reclaimed, smoke finished and off they peddled out of sight. Happy holidays!

After reviewing the museum options, we chose to continue our walk home to wine and dine on the balcony, chasing the elusive clear shot of the woodpecker.

Yes. It happened. 

The Austrian winter announced its imminent return the next day, sneering at those who had become comfortable with the two days of warmth and sunshine. The cloud was back, accompanied by a cold breeze. Regardless, we charted our course for Belvedere.

We accidently discovered the Naschmarkt.

The Belvedere Palace or Palaces are quite grand. The upper sits on top of the hill and the lower palace is, you guessed it, down the slope. In between is a garden and a huge water feature into which stupid people throw money.

It's a Monet. Looks good from a distance.

We commenced on high. Once I had rescued the tickets from my phone. When I booked, I was only permitted to purchase 1 ticket. Prior to the 'checkout', I could continue shopping and did so, to discover that I couldn't buy a second ticket for the same entry time as the previous one. Who designs these sites?

The Belvedere Upper from the Lower.

Anyway, we turned up at the door together. Tickets scanned. In we go. It was very crowded. There are two floors of art works, some contemporary, some more classical. Some you were allowed to photograph, some you were not. Curiously, it was some of the more recent works that did not allow photography. Tbh they were pretty shit anyway and I didn't want to photograph them.

The first artwork I was permitted to photograph.

We worked our way across the top floor through each room and then moved to the first floor to repeat the process. It was here the more historic and famous works resided. A gallery of Klimt for instance and that famous painting of Napoleon on the rearing horse. We arrived in this room to find it packed and with little oxygen. The reason? A tour group from Asia. Every individual had to have their photo taken in front of Napoleon. And then have it retaken if they weren't happy with it.

Loved the title: Naked youth standing between two rocks.

If you can close up ... RBF

Napoleon. He was actually on a donkey, but ...

Klimt.

This group had literally commandeered the room and the artwork. Everyone else sidled in and worked around the group, attempting not to photobomb them. I do not understand the 'selfie' culture, of which this is a part. Anymore than how people could be so ignorant of those around them. Fortunately for my blood pressure, their tour leader called them away. Most followed dutifully. Some stayed for further photo ops that resulted in them sharing their frame with me and other people. Enough is enough.

I liked this guy's work. Egon Schiele.

As beautiful and expansive as these palaces are, nothing compares to Versailles. The gardens, which needed weeding and mowing, would be a lovely place to enjoy a summer's day, but they aren't that impressive. Schönbrun also was far more interesting and eye catching.

Down through the sculptured garden we trundled. The water feature had water, but wasn't fountaining.

From the top because the water is not flowing.

Belvedere lower also held art exhibitions, access to which was gained by traversing through some of the restored palace rooms. 

It needs more gold, or mirrors.

The horse stables contained an exhibition of religious iconography. Through particular periods of history, artists and goldsmiths were kept in work by the varying churches. 

The Orangerie contained artworks highlighting a pioneering woman, Broncia Koller-Pinell, who not only painted herself, but sponsored the careers of other fringe artists, even in the face of Nazi threats. There are no photos. I can't recall whether this was through regulation, disinterest or lighting.

An installation outside the café. Our reflections were there.

Thankfully the Lower Belvedere also contained a very nice café, which provided a well-earned rest and a decent coffee before we headed off to our next destination, KarlsKirche. 

A memorial fountain on the way to St Charles.

Named as the finest Baroque church in Vienna, and resting place of the famed, if controversial composer Bruckner, we were keen to see inside, until we saw the entry fees, €10 per person. Seriously? It's a church and I've seen a few in my time. I'm not sure if any were worth that much money. Unless entry came with eternal life or forgiveness. We were not the only ones to baulk at the cost as we witnessed others come to the entry and decide to walk away.

KarlsKirche from the front.

The rain commenced so it was time to suspend our sightseeing and head up the hill for home. Like most of the rain we have experienced in Europe, it has been light drizzle. At best it is just aggravation value. However, a long walk can ensure you are wet through. Fortunately this was not the case for us on the walk home.

No idea. Tried to photograph it in '22.

Dinner was at a traditional Viennese restaurant, Weinschenke, less than 10 minutes walk from our door. The rain recommenced as we entered the street, this time a little heavier. We were prepared with umbrella and yellow jacket.

The staff at the restaurant were delightful. Umbrella and jacket stowed we settled in for a gin and tonic while we perused the menu. A traditional Viennese restaurant calls for traditional Viennese food and wine. Schnitzel and Tafelspitz with a Grüner Veltliner.

If you at out one night in Vienna, you can probably go without food for three days. OMG the serves are huge. My schnitzel and potato salad (hey, it's thing here) were served on separate plates. Jayne's Tafelspitz was almost as big. I struggled to finish; but I did. 

The rain had disappeared for our walk home. In truth I would have preferred a longer walk to move some of that food.

And you've made it this far so you must want the song reference in the title. Palace by Sam Smith from 2017, not about physical palaces, but hey, it's a great song.

Until next time.

Thnks fr th Mmrs (Prague, Czechia to Vienna, Austria)

For our last full day in Prague, dear reader, we decided to stay local and have an easy day. It's always nice to relax the day before a transit day. They always end up being so stressful despite the best laid plans. However, let's not anticipate tragedies that may not befall us. 😉

During our sojourn here, the spires of the Church of Our Lady for Týn have been our beacon to guide us home. The turrets rise above the skyline of the old town. They are the archetypal image for every castle in every fairytale ever written. And yet, when you enter the main square, the church is nowhere to be seen. The front of the building has been consumed by restaurants. There is also an outlet for the same eatery towards the back of the church. It has been so camouflaged by other buildings, it almost doesn't exist. At ground level anyway.

The spires that direct me home.

Our apartment is on a lane that runs directly into one of the walls of the Church of Our Lady for Týn and I never registered that it was there. This, despite the fact that I had used the spires to guide me home. Given the proximity of the church and it was our starting point for the day, we had a slow morning. Nothing really kicks off in Prague until 10am anyway.

Up the laneway we wandered and through the archway into the ticket office. The tickets on sale were for a concert being held in the church later in the week. We were surprised that entry to the Church of Our Lady for Týn was free. The Catholics could certainly learn a thing or two from the Jews, given the cost of visiting their synagogues and the Jewish Quarter.

The hidden entrance.

From the ticket office, we emerged into a small courtyard that housed the entry arch of the church. In we walked to discover that all photography was forbidden. Why? So you would buy the postcard photos of the interior. I would have been happier paying for entry and taking my own shots. And, dear reader, there were photos worth taking. It was over the top as you would expect a fairy tale castle/church to be.

Looking skyward.

When we reached the statue of the Infant of Prague, I was desolate. A replica statue had been a prized possession of my grandmother and it was passed onto my mother who similarly venerated this icon. The one must have shot and I couldn't take it. The 'no photography' rule is one I adhere to strictly. Even if the reasons are spurious and an attempt at money-grabbing. There were, however, rule breakers in the church. Security had no chance of catching them because he was too engrossed in his mobile screen.

We exited onto the square through the seating area of the two restaurants. Any wonder we hadn't suspected it was there. Our next visit was across the square to St Nicholas. It too is used for concerts. The church itself is small but, it's a church so it still has the wow, gold, over the top factor. I'll let the pictures do the talking.

The chandelier. I don't know why a church needs one, but ...

The chandelier in perspective.

St Nicholas, a Hussite church, was nowhere near the same the level as Our Lady for Týn, but there were many more people in the smaller space. Perhaps a reflection of its obvious existence on the square? Or the fact that you could take photos and entry was free? Anyway, more pictures.

The relatively unadorned pulpit.

The organ. Nice spot. Looks like heaven. Apparently.

It was nearing 11am and Jayne was keen to torture me by making me stand with the thronging crowd to watch the astronomical clock. We threaded our way through the crowd and found a suitable position where I could see the clock, but still had some personal space. Momentarily. A tour guide then came and stood next to me and waved his flag at his sheep. As they flocked in, I walked out. We could come back later to witness the obligatory clock spectacle.

It was too early to eat so we went home for an hour or so to blog and research Vienna, our next destination. Happily, the sun was still shining as we emerged back into the square for lunch. The cloud and drizzle that has haunted us for days stayed away. We scored the same table we had had the other day, an excellent spot to watch the passing parade of buck's and hen's parties as well as enjoy the afternoon sunshine.

Mellowed by lunch and the sunshine, Jayne walked me back across the square to watch the astronomical clock do its thing. The crowd gathered as expected, a smaller crowd because it was Friday and late and most of the tour groups would be heading back to wherever they came from. Came the hour. The skeleton on the clock hit a hammer on the bell, chiming o'clock. Apparently a door opened higher up, cuckoo style and some apostles popped out. Way too much excitement for me. The assembled masses clapped respectfully and we all went our separate ways. 

To use a Shakespeare quote, "Buzz, buzz".

The guide book described this tourist trap experience as underwhelming. I'm not sure that it is accurate. Perhaps, non-existent would be more accurate. What a waste of time.

It was back home again to begin packing, well, not so much packing, as getting organised for packing. We had been in proximity to the party strip all week and hadn't really ventured out at night. So as we waited and watched, the sun set. I grabbed the camera and out we went. No commentary, photos below.

Not sure the astronomical clock tower looks ok.

Purple lights? Who knows?

Lady for Týn

A longer shot of the astronomical clock tower.

Some obelisk. I forget.

Transit day from Prague to Vienna dawned and we were up early to be on the road before 9am. In a move akin to reading the instruction manual, we followed our host's initial instructions on how to get to the apartment. In reverse, obviously. It was a much easier path to tread than the one we carved out for ourselves. Local knowledge wins. Who'd have thought it?

As is our organisational practice on transit days, we arrived waaaay too early. So early in fact, we did not have a platform allocated. We hadn't had breakfast so we searched for a café where you sit down and eat. People like to do that. In an area where everyone is waiting for someone or something, people like to do that, a lot, for a long time. Vacant tables can be as scarce as a female nomination for a safe Liberal seat. 

We found one at Pauls and duly dropped our bags and packs and settled in to coffee and pastries. They're not the best, as I have noted previously, but in transit, beggars can't be choosers. It was nice to sit down after a 30 minute bag-drag session. Hmmm, sounds like a post Mardi Gras event in Sydney.

A platform was finally allocated and off we went. We'd been on the platform a few minutes when another traveller arrived and asked us if this was where the train to Vienna left from. "We hope so," we replied. Then followed a discussion about where to stand and how do you know etc. Here's a top tip, dear reader: Where possible download the travel company app. It is full of good information.

There are some weird things happening in Czechia.

The train arrived close to time. We scrambled on board to find on old German couple in our pre-booked seats. After a brief exchange which I'm sure involved him telling his wife, "I told you," they in turn moved the woman in front of them. The domino effect. The small bags were stowed above and the big bag in a space two rows behind us.

And that was it. Thnks fr th mmrs Prague, Fall Out Boy style from 2007. Not totally relevant apart from the title, but a great clip. Also, they should buy a few vowels.

Off we went towards Vienna with everyone in the carriage facing the wrong direction. There are no guarantees when travelling by train in Europe. So be warned, if facing the opposite direction to travel causes motion sickness, you will need to carry medication.

We were comfortably settling into our journey when the carriage attendant arrived and demanded we move our large bag. The space we, and others, had used was not for storage. There was, in fact, no storage for bags except over head. Here we go again. Time to hoist the 22kg bag in the air. All I needed was another few inches in height. Thankfully the nice man across the aisle, the one with some serious neck and face tattoos, helped me get it into position. The guy behind me sat and watched his wife stow their lighter, but still large bag. Jayne usually adopts the Daniel approach and helps by staying about of the way, at times such as these.

This was another one of those shared trains. It was Austrian based which meant no internet or electronic signage until Austria. I do not understand. They can co-operate sufficiently for a train to travel through countries, but the 'owning' country is the only one to supply internet.

The trip was largely uneventful and we were on time as we approached the outskirts of Vienna. People even started moving and getting bags organised. Then we slowed to a halt but the announcement was difficult to understand; the gist of it was we had "sustained some damage". We knew not what or how. We knew not how long we would be there. We sat. We waited. We moved slowly forward. We stopped again.

Anyway, that continued for a while until we eventually arrived at Vienna hbf. Interestingly, the signage in the carriage still showed the train to be on time.

We had received explicit detailed instructions from our Vienna host. Where to catch the 13A bus, where to buy tickets and where to alight. The lovely man who sold me the tickets enquired as to my age. If I was over 65, I was entitled to a discount. Ouch.

The bus arrived, we piled on with everyone else and secured seats. Despite the bus being driven by a real person, he acted like a driverless metro train. At one stop when he considered we'd been there long enough, he closed the doors and drove away. There was a family of four trying to negotiate their exit who ended up going one stop further than they wanted because they could not alight in time. Ok then, Note to self: do not dawdle.

Our unassuming home.

Our desired stop achieved and the correct direction to walk determined, we arrived at our door 5 minutes later. Frederica was there to meet us and showed us through the flat. It was really lovely, well appointed with an excellent outlook. There was also a welcome gift of sparkling wine (Trocken) and chocolates. What a delightful welcome to a beautiful apartment in a very trendy area.

The view from the bedroom balcony.

We ventured out for some supplies but that was pretty much it for the day. Wine on the balcony off the bedroom. It overlooked a park. Very relaxing. Time was spent there checking out the serenity. And a woodpecker. A great spotted woodpecker to be exact. That was exciting, I'd never seen a real woodpecker in the wild.

Woody doing his thing.

With the excitement over for the day, we walked all of two minutes to the recommended pizza place, Momo, across the road. Pizza with genuine, imported Italian ingredients. Goood pizza. Still served uncut. I swear one day I'll fold the entire piece in half and start eating.

Until next time.