Categories: austria, postcards
Date: 30 October 2007 22:22:37
Four days are not enough to rediscover a place but I was amazed at how much was surprisingly familiar still after 23 years and how much I had forgotten. Roads were not where I remembered and to add to the confusion, there are far more cars racing round the city. There are more bicycles too - even to the extent that there are bikes lined up along the pavement for hire. You can put the fee in the slot which releases the lock - and off you go! (I had an unholy encounter when I was nearly run over by a priest on a bike just behind the Stephansdom which is a pedestrianised area). This sense of trust and lack of vandalism was present back in 1983/84. In some ways, Vienna felt like an overgrown village with an overriding air of respectability - even many of the young people were impeccably dressed...little crime, astonishing respect for rules, i.e. everyone waits at pedestrian crossings to cross the road...even when there are no cars for miles...it's safe at night - and it is still like that except for the underpass to the U-Bahn at Karlsplatz. I was struck by how smoky it is now - and it has a much seedier feel than it had before.
On the corner of the street to my hotel was a shop selling knives and guns. I wasn't sure if the guns in the window display were dummies or not - but the knives looked real enough. And at night there were no shutters or grilles on the window to deter mad axe murderers from breaking in. One day, I heard a Liverpudlian accent behind me commenting, “If that shop window was in England, they'd smash it to get the knives”. I had had the same thought every time I walked past.
Certain streets showed the changes that have taken place in other areas of Europe. There was a high proportion of Thai/Vietnamese and Chinese restaurants in one part of town - none of which I could remember being there before - and nearly all the Würstständl (fast-food sausage stands) are staffed by non-Austrians (mainly people from the Middle East, I would guess from their appearance).
The tourist board has stepped up its activities a bit, I think - although the staff in the Tourist Information Office looked mightily bored and were scarcely able to bring themselves to give you anything but the most rudimentary information. There were several people wandering around in Mozartian-style costume persuading people to buy tickets to concerts and there seems to be an increase in interest in “Sisi”, Empress Elisabeth (1837-1898) which is a relatively recent development. In her heyday, Sisi became known for her beauty, but also for her fashion sense, diet and exercise regimes, passion for riding sports, and a series of reputed lovers. I noted that she was compared to Princess Diana and indeed, they did have certain things in common, including an unhappy marriage and a premature and violent death.
There are still shops which specialise in single items. There are, of course, book shops - but in contrast to England - there are simply dozens. In the centre of Vienna, one chain alone has 8 separate shops over an area of a square kilometre! There are also Trachtenladen - shops selling traditional Austrian clothing - think: Sound of Music wardrobe - skirts with aprons and frilly white blouses with shawls for the ladies; Lederhosen, socks, shirts and green hats and jackets for the chaps. These outfits, worn usually on high days and holidays, are astonishingly expensive and one would probably only need one set. There are also shops selling only gloves (how do they make a living in summer?) or only lingerie - all with stunning window displays.
The Naschmarkt is a wonderful place. Londoners might compare it with Borough Market. At the risk of being disloyal, I think the Naschmarkt might be nicer....stalls with every foodstuff you could possibly want and little restaurants and cafes selling their specialities. Yum!
In the old days, I remember that every Monday morning at 5 a.m., the refuse truck would park outside the flat, engine running, causing the windows to rattle in their frames. The collectors would then run up the steps in the building, down again to the yard, bounce the bins up the steps and down again, empty them and bounce the bins back up the steps and down again to the yard before slamming the door and repeating the process at the next building. In my hotel, this little drama was played out every morning....for what felt like hours. One morning, I peeked out of the window to see just how many bins were down there. The collector must have felt observed because he looked up and said, very politely, “Grüß Gott!!” In my magnanimous morning manner, I managed to mumble back at him “'S'cott....”