Austria - Vienna - The Two Faces of the City

"You have troubles of one sort or another -

TO THE KAFFEEHAUS!

She can't come to you for some reason no matter how plausible -

TO THE KAFFEEHAUS!

You have holes in your shoes -

THE KAFFEEHAUS!

You have a salary of 400 crowns and spend 500 -

THE KAFFEEHAUS!

You are frugal and permit yourself nothing -

THE KAFFEEHAUS!

You find no woman who suits you -

THE KAFFEEHAUS!

You are SPIRITUALLY on the threshold of suicide -

THE KAFFEEHAUS!

You hate and disdain people and yet cannot do without them -

THE KAFFEEHAUS!

Nobody extends you any more credit anywhere -

THE KAFFEEHAUS!"

-Peter Altenberg, 1859-1919

Alright, so the city of Vienna has two distinct sides to it. Two very different pairs of trousers in fact: the Fancy Pants and the Stinky Pants.



Fancy Pants:
This is a place of palaces and princes, of waltzes and women in Chanel, of Mozart and men in Armani suits on bicycles on a Sunday afternoon, of cakes, coffeehouses and classical music. You feel like you should be sauntering around town in expensive designer wares or at least a poofy ballgown to match your surroundings. Margaux and I spent our time enjoying the fantastic cakes of the coffeehouses and admiring the stunning-ness of the city, while hosted by my friend Kristin who lives here for the time being. Highlights include the Belvedere, home to Klimt's The Kiss and Judity I (such a great exhibit!), Schonbrunn, the Hapsburgs' summer palace with gardens and mazes included, a Haydn concert, Haus der Musik (excellent museum!), and of course, my birthday festivities with my friends in Europe!





HOWEVER, Vienna is also a place of peculiar perfumes. The Metro is the ultimate example of the city's unique aromas, where the denizens of the area who believe in the every-other-day-shower and in the optional-application-of-deodorant frequent the public transit and stink up the trains. Where babies poop their diapers and their moms glance at you across the aisle unapologetically and make no move to address their smelly child. Where a man lets a silent but incredibly deadly fart rip on the seat next to you and smirks as you gag and bolt for the nearest doors and claw at the doors to open as soon as the station appears in the distance. But it is not restricted to the Metro. This is also the place where horse drawn carriages mark their trails with the distinct odor of horse urine and manure. And where it is apparently okay to toss your still-lit cigarettes into the open purses of passers-by (Kristin's bag still reeks of smoke and has four holes thanks to that douchebag).



Overall, I definitely would recommend Vienna. But I would also suggest that you take a noseplug and zip your purse shut... just in case.

Sidenote: One bizarre discovery in Vienna...