Chatting About Europe: Vienna, Austria

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Europe As It Is – Stop Four: Vienna (Part 1)

Austria is one of my favorite countries in Europe.

Although I have long forgotten the glorious history of the Austro-Hungarian Empire that I learned in school, I still vaguely remember that it was a nation that once strutted on the stage of military power. But what I didn't expect was that upon arriving in Vienna, I discovered that the capital of Austria is such a city brimming with a rich cultural atmosphere.

Let me start with my embarrassing arrival in Vienna. Due to a last-minute change in my itinerary, I couldn't find a youth hostel before 8 p.m., because my train didn't arrive at Vienna Central Station until 9 p.m. Youth hostels in Europe generally close at 8 p.m. I held my printed map in my hand and vowed confidently, "Heaven never seals off all exits! I'll walk..."

Leaving the station, I first looked for the nearest hostel. Following the map, I walked about 500 meters to the left (west), passing a bar called Mimi. Luckily I didn't mistake it for a hostel and walk in – at a time when I had no food or shelter, I wasn't interested in dealing with the local sex industry. After walking back and forth and still not seeing the hostel, I grew a bit anxious. I thought I might have passed it, so I turned back. I saw a dark building with many beds visible through its floor-to-ceiling windows – maybe this was it! I turned the corner and looked up at the house number – No. 46! That was it! I rang the doorbell with a sense of hope, but no one answered. It was after 10 p.m.; they were closed! I hung my head in frustration, but then I noticed a piece of paper on the wall: a notice saying, "If arriving late, call xxxx." Without hesitation, I took out my phone and dialed. It connected – a cheerful male voice said, "I'll be there in 10 minutes!" I was delighted, so I waited! Even though this call cost me at least 2.5 euros (about 30 RMB).

That guy came and warmly invited me in to see the room. I asked cautiously, "HOW MUCH?" He hesitated and told me, "40 euros." I gasped and stopped in my tracks. "Isn't it 18 euros?" I showed him the information I had looked up online. He said, "We're not that place; we're another one next door, buddy!" Sure enough, the name on the paper was different – I was dumbfounded. "Can you make it cheaper, buddy?" He shook his head and still urged me to take a look at the room before deciding. I thought, no need, and had to apologize: "Sorry, it's out of my budget!" So I said goodbye and left.

Now it was 10:30 p.m., and I had to find another hostel before dawn. I flipped through my materials, grateful that I had information on at least seven or eight youth hostels – the fruitful result of my forward thinking, hehe. I chose one that cost about 20 euros and headed in the opposite direction from which I came – eastward.

Nighttime Vienna had dim yellow streetlights, like Nanjing West Road. The buildings were indistinguishable in the darkness, standing neatly along the street. I had no time to admire them; I buried my head in the map and looked for street signs. Strangely, why was the Vienna map so difficult? First, the street names were long and crowded on the map, so they were abbreviated. But since I didn't know a single German character, how could I find those tiny squiggles on this spiderweb-like map?

I arrived at a strange intersection and saw an Eastern man standing under a building with a sign that read "Zhang Zhi He." After talking to him, I learned he was Mr. Zhang Zhi He, the owner of the Zhang Zhi He restaurant – his accent suggested he was Sichuanese, so he was probably an overseas Chinese! When he learned I was looking for a hostel, he offered to drive me there. I didn't want to trouble him, so we studied the map together. After a while, Mr. Zhang's family came out of the restaurant, likely closing up to go home. I didn't want to impose further, so I said, "Oh, I've found it! I understand!" And I bowed and left. Although my hostel was still unknown, I no longer felt so lost.

I continued walking along the crisscrossing streets. I knew my sense of direction was poor, and in this dark city of Vienna, I finally felt the pain – I walked until 12:30 a.m. without finding a single youth hostel sign!

The first important person who made me start liking Vienna appeared – a middle-aged gentleman. Seeing me standing anxiously at the intersection with an 80-liter backpack on my back and a huge map in my hand, he understood my situation:

"ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A HOTEL?" – Looking for a place, son?

"YES, BUT IT IS SO DARK AND THE STREET IS SO STRANGE." – Yeah, but it's so dark and the streets are unfamiliar.

"HAHA, LET'S SEE, WHERE ARE YOU GOING…" – Haha, let's see, where are you heading?

The gentleman took my map and looked at it for less than a minute before saying, "FORGET IT!" – What a piece of junk!

It seemed this map had even fooled this native Viennese.

So he said, "Follow me, I'll take you to find one." My head was already spinning, and I thought if I kept walking like this, I'd really get lost in this concrete jungle.

Fortunately, after walking less than 10 minutes, I saw a welcoming sign for a youth hostel! I breathed a sigh of relief – I wouldn't have to sleep on the streets tonight. The gentleman didn't stop there but responsibly said, "Let's see if this hostel has a bed. If not, I'll take you to the next one. There are three in this district, and this one is the largest and cheapest…"

Indeed, it was a member of the International Youth Hostel Federation. Fortunately, there was one bed available, even if only for one night, but I was no longer nervous – I'd solve the accommodation problem tomorrow!

The gentleman patiently watched me check in successfully, then turned to leave. I didn't know what to say, so I just tightly gripped his hand and said, "Thank you, old friend." He opened his mouth, hesitated for a while, but finally didn't say, "We are all living Lei Feng here!" If I had heard that, it would have meant my brain was really scrambled.

Europe As It Is – Stop Four: Vienna (Part 2)

It's ridiculous to say, but if not for that gentleman's help, my subjective impression of Vienna might have been ruined by the complex streets: without a good mood, the scenery loses its value. Vienna would have become a capital I disdain, just like Paris.

But fortunately, there was a Viennese Lei Feng. The next day, when I got lost on the street again, another friendly aunt asked me if I needed help. I wondered why so many people appreciated my poor sense of direction.

The next morning, I checked out and asked the hostel for detailed info on other youth hostels in the city – Vienna's youth hostels have first-class service (comparable to Stockholm's; I might make a table ranking the hostels I've stayed in for reference). I got firsthand info and contact info for other hostels for free. Next, I just needed to call and book a room before visiting this Austro-Hungarian capital. At 10 a.m., the line was busy – a tip: most European youth hostels require checkout by 10 a.m., so beds are generally available around that time, and calling to book often works. That's why I never book online – it increases travel flexibility, and online booking is troublesome, time-consuming, and costly – not pleasant! – That's my personal opinion; you don't have to agree.

At 11 a.m., I booked a bed at a hostel called Western City (西城), costing 18 euros for an 8-bed room, and it was mixed! Official hostels under the International Youth Hostel Federation don't allow mixed rooms – all the ones I've stayed in have been single-sex, which seems to ensure girls' safety but also lacks the fun and novelty of mixed dorms. Subjectively, I prefer mixed dorms, provided the room is well-designed. After all, girls might feel less secure – especially Chinese girls! On my trip, I shared rooms with Japanese and Korean girls, but not a single Chinese girl. Later, I talked to two Chinese girls (working in banking), and their eyes widened: "Mixed dorms? No way! Too dangerous!" I stared back blankly – dangerous? Guys aren't bin Laden! But I understood their concerns: they aren't as open as Westerners, they might not know self-defense, and they aren't used to using legal protection at home. But if two girls travel together, it should be fine.

Enough about hostels. After a simple hamburger lunch, I started wandering around Vienna's city center.

The guidebooks describe the old town's scenery in great detail, so I won't repeat it here. Some architectural sights can only be appreciated in person – words can't capture their beauty and history. I'll just share my feelings after walking for over two hours: tourists everywhere. The city's landmark, St. Stephen's Cathedral, is a must-see. My interest in churches is limited to their sculptures, murals, and the peaceful sound of the organ. I ignore the historical details about when it was built, which bishop served, or which VIP prayed there – my brain seems to lack that circuit. Opposite the cathedral, a modern building stands tall, challenging the old structure. It has support from many modernist architects but also fierce criticism from traditionalists – like the glass and steel pyramid at the Louvre in Paris, which some call amazing but I find a bit ironic. More on that later when I criticize Paris.

I carried my Lonely Planet (LP) guidebook and followed its recommended walking route, quickly glancing at sights. I stopped at a statue of a maiden and eagerly flipped through the book to see whose beauty I was admiring. But most of the info from the book will fade from memory; I just knew what they were without digging deeper – otherwise, I'd have to study Austro-Hungarian history at the University of Vienna, and I'm not sure they'd accept me. What caught my eye were the details of the sculptures – like the goddess standing by the street, with her voluptuous body and beautiful face. I couldn't help admiring her! I thought, this might be the most beautiful statue of a woman I've ever seen! – Please understand this from an artistic perspective!

I reached the old city gate, covered in white marble carvings, extremely lifelike – vivid and able to transport you to scenes of joy or tragedy. Just as the book said: (European) romantic art in the 17th-18th centuries, contrary to classical aesthetics, didn't shy away from depicting ugliness and tragedy but aimed to express true emotions and evoke empathy. Well, I said, I'm fine with empathy, as long as it's not me being bitten by a ferocious python. Passing through the gate, the Austrian National Library was on the left, a garden on the right. I hesitated, then headed toward the garden – my feet were tired!

While wandering alone, I blended into a Chinese tour group and overheard an interesting bit of gossip about Queen Maria of the Austro-Hungarian Empire from the tour guide. It didn't add much to my historical knowledge, but in that time and place, it was very entertaining. I thought, when I'm old, I'll lay out my travel photos, read up on these countries' histories and cultures, and then tell the stories to children – they should find them fascinating too.

Haha, I'm daydreaming!

At 3 p.m., I returned to the original youth hostel to pick up my stored bag and headed to the Western City hostel where I had booked a bed. Just then, the hostel staff told me there was a free bed, so I didn't have to leave. I said regretfully that I had already booked another place and couldn't break my promise – so I said goodbye.

Then I finally took time to appreciate the buildings along Vienna's streets –

Baroque architecture is characterized by exquisite detail and artistic imagination, evident in the variety of window frames. There are beautiful women's heads, strong men's figures, flowers, birds, fierce beasts, sleeping animals – all kinds. These varied forms are arranged uniformly along the street, like soldiers awaiting inspection, showing the city's vitality and order.

I arrived at the hostel, checked in, entered the room, and saw two beautiful girls. One was called Maria, the other Park Jeong-hwan.

Europe As It Is – Stop Four: Vienna (Part 3)

Maria's full name was Verena Anna Maria Wittmann. I was nervous introducing myself – how could I remember such a long name? But she smiled and said, "Just call me Maria," and I breathed a sigh of relief. Maria was from Munich. My impression of German girls is that they are disciplined and open, often showing masculine decisiveness and strength. She was no exception, but wrapped in a graceful figure.

Park Jeong-hwan was a girl from Seoul, a typical Korean girl – polite, always smiling, her eyes turning into crescent moons when she laughed.

The other roommates gradually gathered: two American guys (I forgot their names after saying hello), then Miya Shuntaro from Japan, a fairly handsome guy also studying in Sweden, and two tall girls with long flowing hair. They came back late, so we didn't introduce ourselves, and they left the next morning.

After settling in, I had time to go to the nearby supermarket for some daily necessities. I was surprised to find that wine in Vienna is so cheap – in Sweden, vodka, gin, or whiskey costing over 200 SEK were only 3-4 euros here (less than 40 SEK). I regretted not being a heavy drinker – otherwise, there would be another half-dead drunk on the streets of Vienna. I couldn't resist buying a bottle of Austrian red wine, plus canned fruits, vegetables, bread, and more – total 9 euros, so cheap my jaw dropped (like at Carrefour in Xinzhuang).

Over the next two days, I reveled in the exotic atmosphere of Vienna's streets. Art was everywhere, but my tired legs kept threatening to go on strike. Fair enough – I had been out for over half a month, just finished a thousand-kilometer mountain bike ride, and then rushed to this foreign land without a proper rest. They had every reason to protest! But hey, we were in Vienna! Old legs, bear with me – tomorrow we'll soak in the Danube, bask in the sun, and regain our youthful energy.

The blue Danube had long been famous to me. I vividly remember Zhao Zhongxiang (a famous Chinese TV host) once speaking affectionately on TV: "Here – on the blue Danube –" making his little dog lie down in fascination, staring at the plump wild ducks on the water.

Now, I had finally arrived at the legendary Danube.

It was cloudy, with thick clouds covering the blue sky and highlighting the river's green – the Danube now was emerald green, like a rough jade. People sat along the river in small groups, playing, reading, or swimming and frolicking.

I walked about a kilometer along the bank to a quiet dock, stripped off my clothes, loosened up, and jumped into the water.

The water was a bit cool, maybe because of the lack of sun. But it was gentle and clear, with a slightly sweet taste, though too deep to see the bottom. (Later, in Innsbruck, Larry told me there are several nuclear power plants upstream on the Danube – my scalp still tingles when I think about it.)

After swimming for about half an hour, I felt my limbs regain their youthful vigor. Then a Viennese woman in her forties came, quickly undressed down to shorts, and jumped in to swim. I had heard that the Danube has nude swimming areas, but I didn't expect to encounter one here, and so close.

But my composure had improved, and I no longer made a big deal of it. In this beautiful natural setting, all private indoor desires evaporated, leaving only the warmth of the body floating above the water.

Finally, the sun came out from behind the clouds. I lay on the dock, stretching out my limbs, letting my tortured thighs enjoy some infrared massage from the sun.

The woman also swam ashore, dried off, and curled up to lie down. I asked if she was local; she said yes. She asked if I was traveling; I said yes. She pointed to a hill in the distance and said there were castles and churches there. I said I didn't have the energy to climb, and we both laughed. Then we silently closed our eyes and listened to the gentle flow of the river – as for what score I gave her body in my mind, I won't tell you; that's my privacy, hehe.

Half an hour later, I took the subway back. I used a 5-euro local pass that allowed unlimited rides on all public transport for 24 hours. For that convenience alone, I'd give Vienna ten extra points.

On the subway, the girl opposite was elegantly licking an ice cream cone, her agile tongue and pink lips. Watching her, I suddenly felt this was an enchanting artistic scene – I almost fell in love with that cone! She wasn't just eating; she was handling a rare treasure with all her energy and passion, focusing on each lick and sip, without a single drop of melted ice cream falling – all went into her sweet mouth, I suppose. Has anyone seen a girl eat ice cream like this in any Chinese city? If you have, then that city has hope.

I thought: What a city this is! How can there be so much beauty everywhere?

In the evening, I went with Maria and Miyata Shuntaro to the opera house in the city center and watched an opera standing – it was in German mixed with English, and I didn't understand much. Shuntaro might have gotten tired and left early, but I stayed to the end – at least I could grasp the general plot. My feet were killing me after standing for over two hours.

Coming out of the opera house, Vienna's night wind gently brushed my face. I chatted with Maria about the city's charm, pointing out the beauty of the lights on the spires. What a pleasant Viennese night.

On the subway back, I experienced Maria's typical German qualities – she saw me standing on the left side of the escalator and said sternly, "Why aren't you standing on the right?" I asked why. She said, "Don't you know the left is for people in a hurry?" I said I didn't know that rule. She carefully found a sign showing people standing on the right – I stuck out my tongue; it was in German, so I couldn't read it. But she found a simple diagram with a person standing on the right – I conceded and said I'd remember next time.

That's the Germans! They best embody the legalist spirit of Han Feizi. As for us Chinese, I often wonder: among the hundred schools of thought, how should we embrace them all?

But thinking more, maybe I shouldn't have made Maria so angry – could it be that my clueless reaction disappointed a lovesick girl? Alas, I would really have to regret it deeply.

I slept soundly that night.

Tomorrow, I leave Vienna for Salzburg, the hometown of Mozart.

To be continued. (August 11, 2005)