Otherness

People often comment that the shopping areas of Vienna (including the rather smart Mariahilferstrasse and even the Kärntner Strasse) look somewhat old-fashioned.

Not having succumbed to 1970s brutish city centre redevelopment as is the case of most British cities, Vienna remains largely untouched. Its smart shop fronts gleam as brightly as the things on sale inside (be they expensive artifacts or glorious bits of golden plasticy tat).

One thing I have noticed since we arrived in February is how few global retail outlets are present here. The ubiquity of some of these shops make any city somehow interchangeable with any other. Not that I have been searching for something "essential" to Vienna since we have been here (I could look in the direction of the Fiaker rides around the city centre or the Spanish Riding School displays for that), it was rather just something that struck me immediately as "different" or even "foreign" about Vienna which took me a long time to work out why.

Some of the usual (and other, not so usual) suspects are present here, including:

• Body Shop
• Crabtree & Evelyn
• Esprit
• Foot Locker
• H&M
• KFC
• Macdonalds
• Starbucks
  
• Zara

The presence of multiple Starbucks shops in the alleged coffee capital of Europe, seems particularly provocative. They seem ever popular though.

Futball

It has been brought to my attention, that there is some football thing or other going on here at the moment.

I did know really, just kidding. Y viva España!

A walk by the river

It was so hot yesterday that we were barely capable of doing anything!

We had intended to go for a swim again but as I have been suffering a little from a pulled shoulder after trying vigorously to swat flies which were pestering me, plus the imminence of the pool closing, we decided to go for a walk along the Danube.

W got the train to Friedensbrucke and walked into town as far as Schwedenplatz and then turned around and walked back on the other side, this time as far as Spitelau and the Hundertwasser Fernwärme (power station/heating works designed by Austrian artist and bonkers architect, Freidensreich Hundertwasser).

The walls by the river walk are filled with graffiti, some of it banal, some of it really interesting. Have a look and see what you think:



Even Amy Winehouse made an appearance!
This is the Fernwärme I mentioned:

one two three. one two three.. one two three...

No, I'm not going to astound you with my dancing skills. I merely thought I'd share this with you.

Now I think this is an interesting mix of old and new culture here. The sign (above) is directly in front of the Strauss Monument (details below) in the Stadtpark. So after you have regarded the statue respectfully from a distance, or, as in my case, clambered about all over it, you are informed in a bit of a "gotcha" kind of way, that you have been projected across the globe courtesy of the Internet and the City of Vienna website. I think it might have been a good idea to have put the weblink on the placard, but hey, no one likes a know it all!
It's also a bit of a devious way of reminding you that you're being watched, if not by the disapproving Viennese themselves (I didn't trample anything, what is your problem?), then by all the world who are glued to the webcam on the Stadt Wien homepage collectively tut tutting at the likes of me and my disrespectful behaviour!

I suppose I should put the link in now shouldn't I?

Repetitive strain

I remember, years ago, when doing some work for the Tyne and Wear Museum Services that the technicians would listen to GNR and would often comment as the same song came on time after time after time, that GNR must actually stand for "Got No Records"*!

This "limited playlist" approach to brainwashing appears to have been adopted by all the radio stations here. "We play what you want" is the slogan of one of the stations. Well, if you would like to introduce me to this "you" who you are dedicating your airtime to, I might like to give them a record token for their birthday to broaden their musical spectrum a tad, in whatever direction, I don't really mind.

I seem to have ceased to battle with Austrian airwaves. No longer do I stop mid-keystroke to spit and rail at the radio and the (on the whole) dreadful pap/dad-rock/power-ballads/novelty-songs it subjects me to. I calmly rise from my seat and turn it off, and make another cup of chamomile tea.

It has been pointed out to me that my "songs that saved your life" and "tune too far" posts have reflected a particularly narrow musical time frame. While I accept that this is partly true, the tunes that have initiated this new (and some may think harsh) response to personal entertainment have almost exclusively been "new songs".

So far songs that have made me turn off the radio have included:

• James Blunt - Same Mistake
• Leona Lewis - Bleeding Love
• Joan Osborne - What if God was one of us
  

Sometimes the noise of the roadworks is preferable to such bland yelping.

*GNR stands for Great North Radio

How perceptive...

I stumbled across this the other day while walking around the Gurtel (ring road I suppose).

Something tells me that Club Dracula might be a goth club. What do you think?

Less is more

It might be vaguely sacrilegious to say, but I/we really didn't enjoy the deep dish pizza we had for lunch at all, sorry.

Didn't enjoy the dry, vaguely biscuity, yellow (corn?) dough that made up the base.

Didn't enjoy the sloppy sloppy topping.

Didn't enjoy the fact that we had to wait 45 minutes for the the strange abomination to cook.

I did enjoy the lemonade though, and thank goodness for garlic sticks with dip (almost a meal in themself!).

The wind will change...

We've all heard the saying/idle threat directed at young (and not so young) 'uns whilst pulling a face, "the wind will change and you'll stay like that". Well, today (last Friday) it did.

Since we arrived, whatever wind has been blowing, has been blowing from the west. Today it decided to come in from the north, bringing with it clouds that made the view across the lake this morning look more like Morecambe bay than lake Michigan.
The main thrust of our plan today was to visit the Art Institute of Chicago. Before setting off, we had flirted with the idea of taking public transport. I had found out that day passes only cost $5, though, to be honest, after trekking around yesterday, monetary reasons weren't the only reason to take the bus. My feet were still killing me, and public transport seemed like a sensible option.

We started off with very good intentions... We left the hotel before 9am and went for breakfast at the Water Tower Place (Mall) just down Michigan from the hotel. During breakfast I was flicking through the floor plan leaflet we had been given earlier in the week and realised that on Friday, the gallery didn't actually open until 10.30am!

As in London, most of the high street shops don't open until 10am the malls are open but the shops aren't), so we didn't even have the option of an hour's intensive shopping before jumping on the bus to whisk us to Millennium Park for a bit o' culture.

So, we lingered over breakfast, and when we set off, we decided to walk down to the institute, dodging into open malls as (below) freezing temperatures necessitated and arrived joining the end of the queue just as the doors were opened.

Max Ernst ~ Une semaine de bonté

We went to see an amazing exhibition at the Albertina last Sunday (24th Feb).

It consisted of a series of 180 or so collages created by Max Ernst and published in 1933 as a surrealist novel without words, under the collective name of Une semaine de bonté (one week of kindness, i think). The collages were created from existing woodcut and engraved illustrations, culled contemporary from books and magazines.

There were 7 different themes, each represented by a different day of the week and epitomised by a different element and example (story effectively). Here are some examples I found on the web:

I found it really interesting that when presented with images as part a series with elements repeated throughout (eggs, birds heads, bats wings), you automatically try to build a narrative now matter how nonsensical the subject matter.

I thoroughly enjoyed it. Brilliant stuff: very witty, disturbing, intriguing, sensual, beguiling.

A week is a long time...

It seems amazing that this week has gone so fast. Last Thursday (Feb 14th) we met up with a friend who was leading a group of modern history students and other interested academics on a mini trip to Vienna. We met up with them to eat at the Waldviertlerhof (which I mentioned earlier, and the food was excellent by the way) shortly after they arrived and tagged along at various points throughout their trip.

The weather turned on Friday and the temperature dropped by several degrees. We had a smattering of snow, but the worse thing was the wind. It certainly wasn't the kind of day I would have chosen to stand about in the town Centre.

Unfortunately, we were booked onto the Third Man tour, so this was exactly what we had to do! I Had known about this particular tour for a long time and it had almost worked its way into my folk memory. I was sure that a friend of a friend had been on it and had been taken down into the storm drains that run under Vienna to see the setting of the final scenes where Orson Welles tries to escape the clutches of the authorities. He didn't escape (sorry for the spoiler if you haven't seen it), and we didn't get to see the storm drains as the scene was apparently shot in the Shepperton Studios in London. We left early, feeling a little disappointed and later found out that the tour didn't even take in the Riesenrad (the big wheel) on the Prater which seemed a little odd as it is the most recognisable landmark in the whole film. Hey ho. Photo below is the doorway of Harry Lime's kitty (unacknowledged) accompanied first appearance in the film.

A tip! If you are ever really cold and happen to pass a street vendor selling roasted chestnuts, buy some, give some to your friends, put them in your gloves to warm your hands then eat them. It works a treat. Well done Jill for this inspired bit of improvisation!

Later that evening, we visited the Zwölf Apostelkeller in the centre of town to eat drink and make merry, helped along by a particularly boisterous performance from the resident violinist and accordianist who, when they found out the group was from Wales gave a rousing rendition of Tom Jones' "Why, why, why, Delilah?". All very jolly though secretly I was hoping for "Big Spender"!
Saturday was more sedate (though still freezing cold) as we ambled up and down the Naschmarkt and wandered through the accompanying Saturday Flohmarkt (Flea Market) eyeing the acres of assembled bric a brac, antiques, books, old cutlery, postcards, records and CDs, statues, furniture and general tat (you get the picture) and eventually ended up, via the mulled wine stall, at the Kunsthistorisches Museum to see the newly opened Arcimboldo exhibition.

You probably do know who he is even if you think you don't. He's the man who made portraits out of vegetables, fruit and flowers. They were actually portraits of the court of Rudolf the second (16th century) and very interesting too.

We saw the lovely snowy Breughels too.

Sunday found us at the top the Kahlenberg again, surveying the land with the whole group from on high and actually managing to spot the Riesenrad this time. We descended to the village at the bottom (Kahlenbergerdorf) down a stepped path through a vineyard which was cordoned off due to glaciated steps near the bottom. Naturally we only realised this when we were at the ice, at the bottom of the steps; we suffered no casualties, though it was a tad hairy descending at times.
When at the bottom we decamped to a pre-booked local Heuriger called Steinschaden for a delicious feast of local specialities (even featuring vegetarian options!) and lots and lots of wine. Note to self, I really must find out what Schwarz Wurzel are, because the Schwarz Wurzel salad was delicious. It tasted quite like asparagus but without the side effects. I'd quite like to try to grow some when I get home.

I had a brilliant time last weekend and met some really lovely people. Thank you :)

I haven't got a stitch to wear

We're going to the Waldviertlerhof for dinner tonight with friends. There are fish specials in January and February and it looks like it will prove to be a very enjoyable evening. I fear however that whatever I wear, I be upstaged by the waiting staff.

I think I'll wear black!

***kin' dogs!

There are dogs everywhere! Big dogs, small dogs, friendly dogs, snappy dogs, rat-sized dogs, donkey-sized dogs, yappy dogs, howling dogs, nervous dogs and stupid dogs.

They are on buses, on trains, on the underground, on the street, in restaurants, in cafes, in smart suits, in handbags, in trolleys, on laps, on seats, but mostly, on my nerves!

There are those of you who may know that I have asthma, and that my biggest allergy is, and always has been, dog. I don't make this up, as some people believe, I am allergic to dog!

I don't hold it against "them" (dogs per se (and apologies in advance to Tosca, Basil, Molly and Brin for any offense I may have already caused)) I hasten to add, and in social gatherings I often find it quite endearing (while simultaneously immensely irritating) to be singled out by the dog as the only person present who doesn't love them, but generally I do try to avoid them.

At home this allergy is fairly manageable. With judicious use of anti-histamines I can quite happily go to friends houses where there are dogs present and enjoy a fairly "normal" time, ensuring my inhaler is close to hand, that i don't come into contact with soft furnishings or upholstery, or of course, dog.

Here though, any surface I might come into contact with may be/is more than likely to be contaminated with purest essence of dog.

Thank goodness for ever present fast working pills!