Several readers have written to ask me to report on our visit to Austria last week. Mostly we were visiting with my daughter, her husband, and our little grandson, but we did get out and about a bit. Here are some thoughts and recollections.
First of all, Austria still retains, as far as I can see, its national character. There are signs of the flood of Mideastern and African migration that have so radically altered much of Europe, but they are few, and even Vienna, or at least the parts of it that we spent our time in, still seems distinctly, and quite homogeneously, Austrian.
Vienna is, as befits an ancient seat of European empire, a gracious and civilized place. It is orderly and unhurried. (See my remarks on this from an earlier visit, here.) In bustling New York it always seems as if everyone has twice as much to to as can possibly be done in a day; in Vienna it seems that everyone has exactly as much to do as can comfortably be done, and not a thing more. The people seem to understand the importance of balance, and of leisure. The shops are all closed on Sundays; to a visitor from New York this seems inconvenient at first, but I soon came to appreciate it (it was, after all, how things were even in the U.S. when I was a boy, in a forgotten age of the world).
We didn’t do much sightseeing this time around, but we did walk quite a bit, often going from our daughter’s home in the Third District (over east of the Ring) toward the old city center. In that central area are many of the well-known landmarks: the cathedral of Saint Stephen, the Hofburg, Maria Teresa Platz and the big museums, the Rathaus, the Opera, and so on. We’ve visited often since our daughter moved there, so it’s all becoming terra cognita at this point.
One highlight was dinner at the Grecian Biesl, which has been doing business since 1447. (I had the schnitzel, and good local beer.) We dined in a room in which visitors had written their names on the walls over the years; among the autographs were Beethoven, Mozart, and Mark Twain.
The lovely Nina and I drove off to Salzburg for a stay of two nights. (I hadn’t been there since 1972; Nina’s last visit there was in 1968.) We stayed in a cozy hotel in the Altstadt, a few yards from Mozart’s birthplace. Here we did do the usual touristy things. We climbed up to the Hohensalzburg fortress, with its commanding views of the city and of the towering mountains nearby; we walked through the gardens of the Mirabell Palace (as featured in the “Do Re Me” sequence in The Sound of Music), and we stopped by the vast St Augustin beer hall and garden for some refreshment (I must thank my Nina for her indulgence on that one, as she doesn’t even drink beer).
In the evening we went back to the Schloss Mirabell, which has a marble chamber-music hall in which Mozart himself used to perform; there we saw a small ensemble perform two Mozart sinfonias, and Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons, on period instruments.
The next day, rather than drive on the main highway back to Vienna, we detoured south through the Alps. Our course took us through Golling, a charming little town, and then on to Hallstatt, an impossibly scenic lakeside village completely surrounded by enormous mountains. (So renowned is its beauty that a life-sized replica of the town has apparently been built in China, which accounts for the number of Asian tourists we saw there.)
Our commenter Jason asked what the Austrians thought of their new chancellor. (His name is Sebastian Kurz, and he is what is called, these days, “far-right” — a category that now includes anyone more traditionally minded than Che Guevara.) I will confess that I made no effort whatsoever to find out. I feel awkward talking about politics in foreign countries; it seems gauche and pushy to do so, I think. (Also, this trip was for pleasure, not business.) Speaking for myself, I’ll say that I’m glad to see any signs in Europe of some residual will to live.
In short, then: a delightful trip. The weather was warm and sunny throughout, and our little grandson Liam was a joy.
Thank you all. We’ll be back to our normal coverage shortly.
9 Comments
The Natural History museum in Vienna was, I believe, 7 euros the last time I went. It is easily worth 100.
Malcom. .Everyone’s a traveler? Not that you said they were.Thoroughly enjoy your interpretation of life’s travails and events though. By the way. Nothing wrong with travel.
I fear this blog despite its good and instructive intentions is elitist(a little)in a way. Or perhas too complicated for the average bloke, judging by the comments. My simple comment excluded.
You should reach out to the degenerate masses somehow.
We are the idiots in need of wisdom.
(I had the schnitzel, and good local beer.) Bless you! I am going to root around for some old photos I took in Austria ages ago. Some are of the very places and sites you mentioned.
Malcolm, a single question:
(And Richard heads up as my style oughta dissuade you from, at least somewhat, that this site is all that elitist.)
Some preliminary owing to those perhaps unacquainted with said style:
I note above Malcolm your saying “shops are all closed on Sundays” but do go onto mention a couple, maybe three instances of what, I’m pretty sure, I’d “be into” if I should hit the lottery and could [more easily] afford the airfare into Austria.
Arkansas you may recall, as well as my county being “dry” (totally uncivilized to my way of thinking), does not allow Sunday sales of alcohol.
(Fortunately Missouri’s only nine miles north of my residence and does permit and I suppose it goes without saying but, very often my cellphone is without signal owing to very southern Missouri’s terrain. Sundays.)
My question:
Are the Austrians still civilized to the point of allowing beers to be had on Sundays?
JK,
Oh yes, of course. All the bars and restaurants are open, and glad to have your business. It’s just all the shops and offices that are closed. (I’m not sure if this is by law or custom, but I suspect it’s the former.)
Richard,
I did worry, as I was writing this post, that it all sounded a bit pampered: swanning about in Vienna, motoring through the Alps, etc. But we are actually people of fairly modest means.
Would it help if I told you that we flew coach, with layovers each way to keep the costs down, stayed in our daughter’s spare room (rents are low in Vienna), and borrowed her car for our side-trip to Salzburg?
I will, though, cop without apology to the charge of elitism when it comes to ideas and to culture. As I have written someplace (but to my dismay I can’t find it now), in an ascending civilization what is lower aspires to, and strives to emulate, what is higher; in times of decline the polarity is reversed. Within living memory, popular culture gave us Fred Astaire and Rita Hayworth dancing in evening clothes; now it’s Miley Cyrus masturbating in her underwear. I would like our civilization, if possible, to continue climbing, rather than making a biggish crater in the earth sometime in the very near future. I realize that’s hopelessly optimistic, but it won’t stop me from trying to help.
You write (rather too self-deprecatingly, I think):
I’m glad to do what I can. How can I help? Feel free to ask me anything.
I’m glad you and your wife had a nice time, Malcolm. Your observation about walking made me think of what I miss about Europe, of just being able to stroll from Point A to Point B in safety. Such “leisurely” activity is good for the soul.
Thisit?
http://malcolmpollack.com/2011/05/18/forever-young/
JK,
Nope. That one’s far too light-hearted.
Thanks, though!