Zac's recent blog makes the beautiful city of Vienna out to be a lovely place, which it is. But at the risk of coming across a little Daniel-esque, I have a bone to pick with this place.
Sure, you can sip fine coffees in a 600-year-old café, and yes - it’s required by law that the Sacher Torte is delicious, and it’s against human rights for your coffee to be sub-standard. You can wander in the mysterious Vienna woods or attend a glamorous ball at the Hofburg palace, see a Monet exhibition on the weekend, the Opera is world-class and only three euros, the wine is from France, the beer is from Germany, the ice-cream is from Italy, and if your wiener schnitzel is not bigger than your plate you can actually send it back. So yeah, you might say Vienna is a pretty cool city.
But all that means very little WHEN ALL YOU CAN SMELL IS CIGARETTES.
The Viennese smoke. All the time. Everywhere they can get away with it. And I don’t just mean young peer-pressured teens, or an older we-didn’t-know-any-better generation (but let’s be honest, if you survived the Hapsburgs and Hitler you can smoke what and where you want), these are educated masses puffing away. Clubs, pubs, cafes and restaurants all end up in a haze of smoke. Lecturers join students in university hallways for a durrie between classes. Airline pilots and hostesses huddle outside the terminal stinking out their clothes for the upcoming trip. Billboards show fashion models holding a cigarette in their advertisements. Waiters smoke behind the bar when they aren’t serving anyone. Actually, waiters smoke behind the bar when they are serving too. Yesterday I was handed my wiener schnitzel by a chef with a cigarette still in his mouth….mmmm, ash-flavoured schnitzel.
Technically, dining establishments have to provide a “non-smoking” section if they are over a certain size. So the small cafes stay smoking and the big ones put a “no-smoking” sign on their broom closet.
So come to Vienna…it stinks, but it’s a great town.
Having got that off my chest, here are some pics from good times in Austria. Hold your breath.
Ice skating at the Rathaus...(yes, the word for council building is Rat-house)

At the Coffee-House Owners' ball (massive event - lots of fun was had, and no, we didn't see Berlusconi's mistress)

Ok, this isn't Vienna. It's Hallstatt (country Austria). But it was too pretty not to show you.


Happy Birthday Annika, commiserations to Rowan (plenty more wild horses in the sea, mate) and bravo dad on the tipping...
Kate