My husband and I recently returned from a trip for his birthday, for which he wanted to go big and definitely
not go home. Thus, we went to Vienna for four days, then Prague for four more. My husband loves opera and going to one of the great opera capitals of the world, Vienna, suited him well. The opera we saw in Vienna though, suited neither of us well.
But we'll get to that.
First though, when you travel for about fifteen hours straight after having worked an eight-hour day before driving from Greenville to Charlotte, flying from Charlotte to London, sitting around at Heathrow on a layover, flying from London to Vienna, and then sitting on the train from the airport to the central city, clutching your enormous suitcase lest it hurtle off on its own and injure a bystander, what you see your first night in Vienna is whatever is still open late enough for you to see it, and whatever will let you in despite the fact that you are giving off visible stink lines like in a cartoon. Hours-long flights do nothing good for a person's hygiene.
What was open and willing to permit entry to two smelly tourists turned out to be the Kunsthistorisches Museum, open late on Thursdays. We staggered around, dead on our feet, and I actually remember very little of what we saw beyond these photos. I know there was a lot more to it though.
Thursday, January 11, 2024
Vienna, Austria: Visiting a Total Kunst
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This was our first dinner in Vienna. My husband is one of those people who wants to eat what's local to wherever we're visiting, but with both of us exhausted and smelly, we understood we were eating at a tourist trap. It was what was available near the hotel and, most importantly, open. The food called itself by the authentic names, but it wasn't authentic. The wienserschnitzel was basically breaded cube steak, and my goulash tasted like Dinty Moore's finest -- but it was hot, it was plentiful, and it all tasted just fine to us. Sometimes needs must.
Note this cake. Considering that coffee, confections, and pastries are an integral part of Viennese culture, and that coffee, confections, and pastries are an integral part of my identity, not to mention my wobbling gut, everywhere we went I kept an eye out for cakes. I actively and aggressively sought them out. This wasn't bad at all.
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