Not the 1980 song , though I did like that very much back in the day. (And still do if I’m honest). No, the city. But once again this post will be dredging up memories, if not from my teens, but from my thirties. Eek!
Actually I was only *just* still in my thirties, I think I celebrated my 40th birthday right after we returned.
And a disclaimer, that coffee above was enjoyed much closer to home. I have no photos of that trip. I know I must that some momentos but I think they must be in the trunk which is currently in the inaccessible part of the house. But I thought some coffee would be appropriate.
So I will have to try and paint a picture with words.
I can’t remember the name of the hotel we stayed in but do remember it was out near the UN building. A quick search suggests it what is now the NH Danube City. All I can remember is that it was near the UN and the Danube. The Danube, which was certainly a mighty river, but equally certainly not blue; it was green.
It was a work trip for MrS* and he had been in the city a few days ahead of me. The night I arrived the cultural programme included an organ recital at St Stephen’s Cathedral. We headed out to this but dismayed by the length of the queue opted out and enjoyed a sociable evening with some lovely colleagues in a bierkellar.
The other thing I remember of that evening was that I wore a beautiful pair of Moschino mules. They were back and cream leather with a punched out design (like on brogues), a cute little bow and kitten heels. They were also a half size too small for me. They hurt even when sitting down. I think that was the only time I wore them, although they only found their way to a charity shop three years ago. Maybe I thought my feet would shrink if I washed them enough?
MrS was busy every day and probably would struggle to describe Vienna apart from the inside of the congress centre. Me? I had a combined transport and museum card and had a super time.
I rode the tram right around the Ringstrasse, ate bratwurst, drank more coffee and cake than you would think humanly possible and gorged on galleries. I visited Sissi’s flower strewn tomb in the Kaisergruft, marvelled at the modernity of the Frankfurt kitchen in the MAK and discovered those Klein blues at Mumok.
I paid my respects at the Silent Library
The finale of the congress was a ball at the Rathaus. The Vienna Opera dancers delighted us with their carefully choreographed Viennese Waltzes. And then MrS and I tore up the floor with our rather more improvised moves.
I swam in the Danube and saw but failed to ride the Reisenrad.
Still it’s always nice to leave something for the next visit.
And maybe then I’ll take some photos too.
*He was strictly speaking not MrS until the following year