Vienna is like the grand old dame in a sumptuous opera. Classical buildings abound, and you can just about imagine people in white wigs, powdering their faces and preening in beautiful baroque costumes to the delightful strings of a Mozart air.
This city breathes culture and elegance and art. It is unabashedly sentimental about its most famous adopted son: Mozart (born in Salzburg). When you have a prodigy with such a large body of work, you don’t have to hide your laurels under the lid of a grand piano.
The weather was turning cold, and there was a distinct feel of Christmas in the atmosphere. Christmas markets were beginning to sprout in different parts of the city, with a notably large one in front of the Rathaus (Town Hall).
I was in Vienna for work. Granted, it is not every day that you can claim to ‘work’ at the British Ambassador’s Residence. Still, it is an amazing building in a very gentrified suburb. Apart from some strange and incongruous adornments and furnishings, the Residence is still quite a sight to behold, and the sweeping grand staircase is the sort you would imagine seeing as Cinderella glides down to her prince.
The Ambassador treated us to a traditional Austrian meal on our first night there. We went to the Salm Bräu, a restaurant situated in the middle of a micro beer brewery. We sat in the vaulted cellar and chose from five different house beers and from an extensive menu of traditional Austrian food. Speaking of this, I have to say that Austrian is quite similar to German food – a heart attack disguised as a wet dream. Stratospheric in calory count, cholestrol content, and fats, it is certainly not for the faint-hearted. Certainly, even before the food arrived, we knew it would be in giant-sized portions.
My fellow guests adopted the attitude that if the British Government was footing the bill, they would go to town. And they did. The chap to my left ordered five litres of beer (I kid you not!) throughout his meal which also consisted of giant starters and mains. He did decline dessert but had a couple of schnapps and a coffee. I was amazed that he could stand up and walk home after that.
The menu was certainly interesting. One of my colleagues had a Kloster-Pfandl, a fillet of beef in a creamy ham and mushroom sauce, with erb spaetzle (small flour dumplings), topped with dollops of cream. Another ordered the Viennese goulash which arrived with floating bread dumplings, gherkins, and a fried egg!
Although I was swayed by the schnitzel (which many went for), I decided to watch my carb intake and opted for a pan-fried and grilled hake – line caught from the Atlantic ocean. Well, so they said.
We also had starters which included mini schnitzels so I got to taste them after all.
The food at the Salm Bräu is truly excellent. My fish was perfectly seasoned and cooked – still moist, and basically, melted in my mouth. The portions were huge (I had two fillets, when the menu suggested only one). As is typical in Austrian fare, you normally get one meat with potatoes. Our dishes were piled high with potatoes of different modes of preparation. To sate our hunger for greens, we had to order several side dishes. We decided to be brave an order something called ‘beer cabbage’. When it came, it looked decidedly unappetising, and the taste was quite different to what we expected. It looked as though the cabbage had been stewed in beer until it turned into a mulch, and the aftertaste felt as if honey or mead had been drizzled through it. Sadly, most of it stayed untouched for the rest of the meal.
While most people opted to stay at the posh Riding School Marriott, I stayed with a good friend – also well-travelled, and a fellow Spanish-speaker. Christian cooked some Austrian meals for me (some interesting dumplings, which expanded to a massive size after being boiled). I also did a variant of soya chicken for him, which he duplicated the following night with some artistic licence (it was delicious, mate).
We went out to a fantastic a capella music festival (called Voice Mania) at a hip venue called Vindabona at the behest of Christian’s brother, Richard. It turned out to be a great decision as the music and the talent were superb. A woman from Madagascar called Talike Gellé amazed us with the sounds she could produce and control from her throat. Three gorgeous ladies from Barcelona called ‘El Trio Chikiboom‘ recalled Forties glamour with their vocal harmonies on songs such as ‘In the Mood’ and ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy’. The Austrian group, Voices Unlimited, combined lilting melodies with comedic gestures and knowing winks. The magnificent Spanish men’s group, b vocal, ended the show with a bang and an extended set of songs to cries of ‘Encore’.
Richard, who was friends with the Chikiboom girls, invited them out to dine with us guys… but Vienna eateries closed early. The only thing we could was walk to the nearest metro station and grab some cheap doner kebabs. We had great fun chatting and trading insults, horoscope stories, and experiences until 2 in the morning. Regretfully, we bade each other farewell, and I came away with a grin and an open invitation to visit Barcelona.
P.S. It is interesting that the Viennese metro runs 24 hours on the weekends. Now, if only London could learn from that.
Sadly, due to a very packed work schedule, I did not manage to spend too much time looking around this beautiful city, or visit any of its imperial palaces.
I did manage to eat a lot of sweets and desserts, including the world-famous Sacher Torte (created at the Sacher hotel for a king). It wasn’t cheap, nor was it extremely delicious, but it came exquisitely packaged, and eating it was certainly an experience. If there is one reason for returning to Vienna, it is for the divine cakes!
Christian and I engaged in long chats about all sorts of things, from the meaning of life to life in Brazil. The best thing about hanging out with people you get on with is the intellectual sparks it generates.
Although this trip was but a short waltz, Vienna, I shall ask thee for another dance.