“It’s beautiful.” This was the consensus of my informal poll regarding Vienna. The buildings, the music, the general atmosphere—beautiful. Also, ice cream. My friend Ann said, “I don’t remember much about Vienna except grown men walking around with ice cream cones.”
All right, I’m in.
Vienna wasn’t on my “must-visit” list, but Laura’s mom had a cousin there, and we both love antics with characters from the other’s life, so thus the City of Music became the destination for the BFF mini-break. We arrived with no plans in place, which is part of the charm of being hosted by people—getting picked up from the airport, pointed in the direction of the tram, and served breakfast on the terrace. Not too shabby.
The people were right: there was ice cream. I smiled every time I saw a grown man walking alone with an ice cream cone.
And the city was beautiful.
What I wasn’t expecting was for the beauty to feel familiar. Everywhere I went, I thought about how my Grandma Verena would love it. It was the particular kind of beauty that she, a woman who grew up without much opulence and married to a dairy farmer, appreciated. All things grand and ornate and bejeweled were her definition of classy. My version of classy is a fancy pun, which in Vienna, led to saying “If it isn’t baroque, don’t fix it,” more times than anyone else appreciated.
All the strudels and schnitzels and schnapps made me think of Verena too, how she would say, “Schlitz!” when she got a bad hand of cards, and how my cousins and I made “My Mother Married a Schmutz!” t-shirts after finding out that Schmutz was a family name. After one bite of apfelstrudel, I realized I was tasting my childhood. “Oh, this is in me,” I blurted out in the coffee house.
I’ve spent so much time in California as an adult that I most often associate my heritage with the Midwest, and tend to forget how much my ancestors were shaped by where they came from. All four of my grandparents’ families have German roots, and although there are plenty of nuances between Austria and Germany, Vienna was the closest I’d been in years.
Once I started paying attention, it was more than just the strudel: the whole place was efficienct and orderly and full of people who know how to move people through a process. When we were getting ready for dinner one night, eveyone was waiting on me even though it was before the time we agreed to leave—reminiscent of all my teenage days. The taxi came ten minutes early at 3 am on the morning I flew out, and I couldn’t help thinking about Grandpa Ralph and how pleased he would be, chuckling at my “tardiness” and calling me his favorite screwball.
Three out of four of my grandparents are gone, and sometimes it’s hard to remember who they were and what they loved. It’s not easy to live away from family, especially when you like them. Sometimes it feels like I’m floating away from everyone who raised and loved me, and I wonder if I’m losing them, losing me too.
And yet, as I ran through a thunderstorm of epic Midwest proportions on my last night there and the air turned sweet and the humidity broke, I thought of my grandparents again and how much they would have to say about that storm. There they were, in the last place I’d imagine, waiting for me in Vienna.
Assorted Travel Tips for Vienna:
Quirky Finds: Our host told us that the Viennese like weird things, I loved the element of mystery in the air—magic shops, a museum of illusions, and the intrigue of Sisi the empress, who quite the character. If you need a break from the opulence and museums, we had a great time at the amusement park Prater.
Market: If you love a market situation, visit Naschmarkt. The owner at the Italian stand Feinkost brought us dealer’s choice plate—a perfect lunch for a hot day.
Night Out: Visit Stefan at krypt. bar and he will whip you up some magical elixirs. Make sure you go to the bathroom while you are there—it is all kinds of crypt-hilarity.
Courtyards: We learned quickly that goodness was tucked away in the courtyards: coffee houses, restaurants, and magical wine gardens called Heurigers, selling hyper-local wine. When in doubt, wander into the courtyard.
Click here to see more of the whimsy of Vienna, and let’s be friends on Instagram: @jackieknapp_
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Have you ever traveled to a place more familiar than you imagined?
Wow, Vienna looks magical! I've wanted to visit there for years.