It has been eight months since I visited Vienna, and in those months I have been writing and thinking about the city and my own experience there. I wrote a pretty good literary essay about why the city was a European nucleus of musical activity (largely support from the Hapsburg monarchy, it turns out), and another essay about Viennese affection for the Waltz King, Johann Strauss II. I winnowed my collection of photos to just a few hundred. All the while I was reflecting on what little piece of that transformative two weeks would be appropriate and interesting to share on this blog. And then it hit me: why not tell my readers about the unexpected Vienna, the stuff that surprised me.
Some of my companions approach the Reisenrad
There's a Ferris wheel in Vienna. That wasn't a surprise by itself--London and Paris have wheels. The Vienna wheel, the Riesenrad, is in the amusement park called the Prater, is one of the oldest wheels in the world. It was built in 1897, so it's possible Sigmund Freud, Johann Strauss II, and even Johannes Brahms rode it. Gustav Mahler could have, too, but I'm not sure he was living in Vienna that year.
The gondolas are big and hold at least twelve people who are permitted to walk around the car to see the views on each side. The ride moves slowly, so although you get only one rotation, you have plenty of time at the top to gaze down on the city.
From the top of the Reisenrad: that's a wax museum over there.
Some of the gondolas are outfitted with dining apparatus, at least one formal and one informal, and for an extra cost riders can enjoy a multi-course meal. Each course is delivered when the gondola reaches the bottom point.
Views of the Riesenrad
Vienna view from the Riesenrad
I toured the famous Vienna Opera House and learned that Gustav Mahler is one of the most-esteemed conductors in the opera house's history. I think of him as a composer of symphonic works, but unbeknownst to me, he was a sought-after conductor in his time specializing in opera. Vienna recruited him from the Budapest Opera. He made big changes during his time in Vienna including forbidding audience members to enter the auditorium once the opera had started and from cheering on their favorite singers. There were tributes to him all over that place including a bust by non other than Auguste Rodin. Way to go, GM!
The Vienna Opera at night
Just across the street from the Opera House is the Sacher Hotel, where the famous Sacher Torte is served. I can't say I was unaware of this famous pastry since my sister recommended I go there to try it, but I was delighted at how yummy it is. It's made from a secret recipe that bakers have attempted to duplicate, but there's nothing like the original at the original place. That fruity taste in there is apricot if you didn't know.
The original Sacher Torte at the Sacher Hotel
Johann Strauss II's Local Hero status did not surprise me even though he and his waltzes, polkas, and operettas were not mentioned in my American Music History training. Really: we music majors were warned not to get involved with "light" music of any kind, and this included John Philip Sousa marches, folk music, and American Musical Theater. I had no idea there was a whole family of musical Strausses until I was inspired to write an essay about how defensive I became when I overheard a young American man slandering JS II's music after a Vienna concert. That's what surprised me, that I was inspired to defend this composer, research his life and career, and go in search of the famous Stadtpark statue and his apartment on the Praterstrasse which is now a museum.
Johann Strauss II's apartment is up there
I learned about his three (consecutive) wives, his musical father and two brothers, and became familiar with his waltzes, polkas, and operettas. I noticed his music meant as background being played in the hotel breakfast room, gift shops, my Austrian Airlines flight, and back home on my CD alarm clock. Once I noticed the music in these places, it took on a surreal quality as if it was inappropriate for the surroundings. It's good stuff, though, and I enjoyed including it along with Mozart's, Beethoven's, and Mahler's in the Music of Vienna course that I taught in the fall. When New Year's Day came along, you bet I was in front of the television watching the concert broadcast from Vienna. It looked similar to this:
This "Radetsky March," by the way, was played over and over in our hotel breakfast room. Did anyone else notice it, I wonder?
Budapest's Parliament Building from the Sun Deck in the Rain
My sister and I recently splurged on one of those river cruises you see advertised on TV, especially if you watch Downton Abbey. Before we left, and after we returned, the most often-asked questions were about the ship! Not the Danube's color (I was asked about that a lot), or the various destinations we visited. People seem fascinated by the idea of cruising on a river on one of those skinny, odd-looking boats. So, before I jump into my thousand photographs of the fantastic destinations we visited via the ship, let me tell you about the ship itself.
The first thing we notice about the ship was the efficiency of the staff. Everyone chipped in to help with embarkation and disembarkation. The maitre d' Vladimir showed us to our room and gave us a thorough orientation to its amenities. The chef Erik was rolling passenger luggage behind me as we left the ship. Soon we were introduced to all of the key personnel just in case we needed anything: the concierge, the chef, the hotel manager, the program director, the front desk guy, the housekeeping manager, the maitre d', and the sommelier. They always seemed to be around, in uniform, and extremely professional, and all but the program director came from countries on or near the Danube. Most meals were taken in the ship's restaurant where friendly waiters took good care of us. By the end of the week, Ronaldo knew to have my Coke Light waiting for me at lunch! It's nice to be pampered.
I'll tell you a little secret about my philosophy of blogging: I avoid writing anything negative about the places I visit. I'm no Pollyanna, but I don't see any reason to tell you about crappy lunches or bitter salespeople or filthy bathrooms. I just leave that stuff out. Keep that in mind while you read this blog about our river cruise experience, because I suspect that you might suspect that I'm candy-coating it. Nope. I have nothing negative to say. It was fabulous: well-organized, fun, unboring. If I'm not mentioning it here, it is not because it was sub-par---it is because I don't want to make this thing too long. If you have a question, ask me in the comments section!
We chose the Danube Waltz cruise, starting in Budapest and sailing upriver through Slovakia and Austria to Passau, Germany. From Passau, we jumped off the Viking ship and onto a Viking bus which drove for four hours through the German and Czech countryside where we would stay for three additional days in Prague. And by the way, there were no passport checks anywhere except the airports at the beginning and end.
You're wondering about the stateroom, I bet. We booked late and were lucky to have found a cancellation, mid-ship on the first floor. The room was bigger and more luxurious than we expected. It was all we needed because we were hardly there except for sleeping. Here are some views...
I know what you're thinking: on the commercial, they show rooms with floor-to-ceiling windows and sometimes verandas. Yup, those rooms were on the boat, too, and if you think you prefer one of those, please start saving now, and book early. They are on the second and third floors. Let me remind you, though, of the people on the Titanic (in the movie) who traveled in steerage. Didn't they have a lot more fun than the Snooty McSnootersons in the fancier rooms? I contend they did, up until the iceberg happened.
So, yeah, when I stood on tippy-toes to look out our rectangular porthole, the top of the Danube River was at my chin level. This would mean, when I was lying down I was under water. So all of you people to whom I said, "I'll be floating on the Danube at the end of May," I should have said, "I'll be floating IN the Danube at the end of May." (That may have given you the wrong idea though. Accuracy is sometimes troublesome.)
View of Bratislava's waterfront from our stateroom. The green Danube is just above the porthole frame.
We signed-up for as many optional excursions as we possibly could, and I'll be blogging about them in coming weeks. There was plenty to do when we were on the ship besides watching movie in the room. There were great views from the Sun Deck (the top level),
From the Sun Deck in the Wachau Valley
plus shuffleboard and giant Chess.
One morning we were treated to a pastry demo by the chef, pastry chef, and two volunteers from the audience:
Rolling the strudel dough
Stretching the strudel dough
Adding the apple filling
Rolling the strudel with the extra tablecloth it had been created on
There was tea time.
One night while we were in Austria, the staff threw out the usual dinner protocol and threw an Austrian-themed party complete with Weiner Schnitzel, Sacher Torte, and strolling musicians. Some staff were in Lederhosen (or Dirndl), some in checkered shirts, but everyone was festive.
Speaking of food, the ship desserts were fantastic. Here's a collage of some of them:
The desserts and other courses were presented in sensible portions, so one never felt too full or too naughty/guilty. With all of the uphill cobblestone walking we did almost every day, I'm sure we walked-off these innocent desserts. And the Chateaubriand. And the Deconstructed Beef Wellington. And the cheese plate.
This was interesting: sometimes the ship double-parks at the dock and you have to walk through other ships to get to land. Here I'm standing on the ramp between two Viking ships in Budapest:
One last thing: what do you suppose this sign means? It was posted on the railing around the skylight on the floor of the Sun Deck. I'm guessing it's warning me against climbing over the rail and stepping on the skylight, but I can't be sure.
