Another globetrotting report.

The first thing that I noticed when I landed in Vienna was how clean and how modern everything is. And then I left the airport.

Vienna seems a city that doesn't know what it wants to be; it seems torn between being an older, more conservative place and a newer, more liberal, modern and above all consumerist place. You can walk through the city centre, and on opposite sides of the street is a building hundreds of years old, all ornate castings and mouldings, and directly facing it a monstrosity from recent years that looks like a nightmare offspring between a mirror factory and a Lego set. Nowhere is this more obvious than Stephansplatz itself. An old cathedral that draws in the tourists, now overshadowed by what can only be described as a horrid boil on the landscape passing itself off as modern architecture. It's not, it's ugly. And this repeats itself elsewhere: you may well have heard of the Hotel Sacher, a famous old hotel that's the home of the also famous Café Sacher and its equally famous Sacher Torte. This place is the epitome of the old style Austrian coffee shop. Class and style in opulent surrounds, serving high quality coffee and cake. And yet opposite this is a Starbucks. Directly opposite, with its sterile design green awnings and heavily branded exterior. It could be anywhere in any city in England, yet they decided to stick this carbuncle directly opposite Café Sacher.

This disjointedness pervades, and I think it is currently what makes Vienna the city that it is. Old and new don't blend here, but they stand opposite each other, almost mocking each other in their disparate ways.

But there are some crossovers. Go into 1516 Brewing Company for example and you're greeted with a mix of old and new clientele. Age doesn't matter to enjoyment, everyone I saw or met was enjoying themselves, and it's not a forced, fake enjoyment. These people weren't out to get drunk, wake up with a hangover and no recollection of how they got it. They were actually having fun sitting down and chatting with each other. There were tables of twenty-somethings next to tables of retired couples. The only thing these people had in common was that they were having a good time, they were relaxing with friends, and enjoying themselves.

And this is where another difference comes in for an Englishman abroad: they were smoking. Indoors. Smoking in public establishments has been banned in England for a few years now, and I hadn't realised how much this had become the norm. How much I'd got used to being in places where the air is as clear as a city street. But you walk into a restaurant or bar in Vienna and the smoke hits you. A waft of fresh tobacco smoke weaves its way out of the door and greets you like an old friend. I don't smoke, I've never smoked, but I didn't realise how much I missed this smell. By the third night though the rose-tinted glasses of memory had been firmly smashed when I awoke to my clothes giving off that familiar stench of stale smoke. My clothes reeked, my hair reeked, I reeked. The novelty had worn off. Not that many years ago smoking indoors was normal over in England, and I personally was quite devastated at the nanny-state way that it was removed. But after the break from it, I can see how this was a good thing. I'm of the opinion that pubs should be able to have a sign outside saying whether smoking is allowed or not, and people could make up their own mind whether they wanted to go in there or not. And this is the sort of scheme that Austria has, but having seen it in action I have had to relook at that view. I still agree with it, but I've had the opportunity to look at it again.

Austria doesn't have a nanny state that I saw, it had a social conscience instead. A very well developed one, but one with cracks showing nonetheless. People were very patient, very disciplined. Nobody crossed the road before the green man signalled they could. There was an almost eerie adherence to the laws and the rules, but then there was the disjointed mirror. I have not seen a city so full of graffiti as Vienna since London of the mid-90s. Everywhere had tagging, people just writing their tag on anything that didn't move. And nothing was safe, even Karlskirche had graffiti on the side that translates to "There is no God". You couldn't walk through the city without seeing graffiti, every single building had some to some extent.

And this ruined the city to be honest. A lot of the older buildings have crumbling plaster and rendering on them, but this could be forgiven as it's an old place. But the graffiti? This couldn't be forgiven. If I could say one thing to the people that are responsible for this, it would be this: You live in possibly one of the most beautiful cities in the world, why ruin it? But ruin it they do. There is some amazing street art about too, but spraying your name on a building isn't art. It's what cats and dogs do to mark their territory, and I'd kinda hoped that humans had evolved a bit beyond that.

After spending a few days wandering around Vienna though you suddenly realise why it's such a confused city. The official language of Austria is German and you hear it spoken here and there, but there are so many tourists in the city that generally you hear so many different languages being spoken that you start to lose track of what is supposed to be the native language. And it's not for want of trying to speak German either. Personally I'm a monoglot. Not for want of trying, but I just can't seem to speak any language other than English. The wife however is not too bad with other languages, but almost every single person we met is so fluent in English that our attempting German seemed almost embarrassing at times, even though it was always met with polite smiles, patience and encouragement. The people truly are wonderfully friendly.

But when you realise something about the place you can then start to understand why this is, why the fluency and the social confusion. And it's this: German may be the official language, but English is the universal language of consumerism. All throughout the city, suburbs and centre, there are signs and posters in English. Not just shop names of multinationals, but posters in their windows mixing German and English. The people are being immersed in the English language as it relates to selling them things, and I'm not even sure they realise it. If you didn't know any German, and didn't speak to anyone, you could still get by in Vienna purely by reading all the English signs.

So that's the impression I came away from Vienna with. You could almost be forgiven for thinking that Vienna got stuck in the 80s and then a couple of years ago suddenly decided to cram the last thirty years in as fast as they could. It really is a melting pot of social change, and throughout it all there is this almost eerie social conscience that makes all the people friendly and polite. In short, I loved it. Vienna has something for everyone (footnote: except a decent cup of tea), yet it feels safe and friendly. And personally I can't wait to go back.

The First-Person Stories Archive

Pastey

07.01.13 Front Page

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