A few weeks ago, my good college bud Stacy came for a brief visit to Amsterdam. Stacy works for an American-German-Dutch publishing company, which means she comes to the Netherlands for work on occasion. So when she had a team meeting in Holland for work last Wednesday, we decided she come early and spend the weekend! Her and my other good friend Liz came to visit back in June and we did the whole Holland thing. So this time, Stacy and I decided to do Vienna.
We had heard some things about Vienna before our arrival: everyone walks around in fur coats, everyone is old, there are some beautiful palaces, and they eat sausages filled with cheese (we actually only heard this last tidbit from Matt). We also knew about the world-famous opera house, so decided our must-do for this trip was to see an opera. About a month before our trip, I see that Madame Butterfly is playing at the opera house the night we arrive in Vienna (Sunday night). This was perfect! A few weeks before our trip, I search the internet to order tickets before the show only to find that the show was sold out! We were so bummed! We tried some contacts, called in some favors, and found that our contacts were lacking and no one actually owed us any favors. We decide then to try going to the opera house as soon as we arrive, maybe swindling some old men and stealing their tickets while they go to the bar to get us champagne and chocolates. Luckily for us (and all the old men at the opera house that night), there was no need for that.
When we arrive at the hotel, our concierge informs us that if we were to arrive at the opera house 30 to 60 minutes before the show is set to begin, we could purchase standing room tickets without a problem. Phew! So by the time we had brought our bags up to our lovely little Viennese hotel room, it was around 3:30 in the afternoon. All we really wanted to do was just relax and get ready for the show at 6, but being in Vienna only until Tuesday afternoon, coupled with the fact that the big palace we wanted to see (the Belvedere) is closed on Mondays, we decided instead to grab a map and our cameras and hop on the tram.
The transportation system in Vienna is very reliable. There is the underground system and the tram (above-ground) system. The tram system is set up in a loop around the city, and our guide book recommended taking the loop around, which we did many times, albeit inadvertently!
Our first stop was touring the Belvedere Palace. Due to time constraints, we only visited the upper palace (the palace is divided into 2 sections), where there was an art gallery with famous works by Gustav Klimt. There were a couple of really magnificent pieces there, including Klimt's The Kiss and The Bride. Unfortunately the outside of the palace was a bit tainted by the construction to the gardens, but it was still majestic.
After touring around the Belvedere for a few hours, we head back to the tram stop so we can get to the hotel and throw on our cocktail dresses for the opera. On our way, we stop to look at some cheesy advertisements with pictures of Sharon Stone. The advertisements were for the souvenir shop across the street, and featured the words ''Sharon Stone's Choice" with pics of the pseudo-star and a short little Greek man. As we start to walk around these signs, I hear some yelling coming from the other side of the street. I turn to look, and lo and behold, it's the little man in the picture motioning for us to come into his store. I grab Stacy and among stifled giggles we start walking (fast) towards the tram stop. But he is undeterred. He follows us and shouts after us and eventually convinces us to go into his Greek restaurant attached to the shop with promises of free coffee. We follow him in, and the restaurant looks pretty legitimate. He quickly hands us 2 glasses of red wine filled to the brim and seats us at his best table. He leaves us alone for a bit, but keeps coming back and asking about our lives and telling us where he's been in the US. Now, Stacy was just getting over an ugly flu, and wine was the last thing she wanted or needed, so she hardly drank hers. And I could not let 2 full glasses of wine go to waste, so I drank mine. Seeing this, our little friend, Nico was his name, says "This one likes wine!" then proceeds to fill my glass to the brim again! He then escorts us into the souvenir shop, hands us postcards and dresses me in various tacky printed scarves. All Stacy could muster when he draped me in a The Kiss screen-printed scarf and looked at her for her approval was, "I think it looks better on Sharon Stone.'' Thanks, Stacy. We finally manage to tear ourselves away under the false premise that we would return later that evening. I really hated having to lie to Nico. At first we really considered coming back to eat b/c the food looked so good. But in the end, he was just too annoying.
By the time we arrived back at our hotel, we were much later than we had planned. It was 6:20 and we still had to get dressed. We called the cab and in record time were ready to be driven to the opera house. The cabbie was chatting us up, enough so to make Stacy really believe that he was really rooting for us to score some tickets. So I see her hand him a bill as a tip. Now, the smallest euro bill is 5 euros. So once we hop out, I gasp, ''Did you just tip him 5 euros for a 9 euro cab ride?!" and she replies, ''Yes, but I really felt like he was on our side. I thought it would give us good karma.'' And did it ever.
The Vienna opera house is magnificent. It is so ornate but not to the point where it's tacky. It's just very classy. The ceilings are gilded gold, and the chandeliers are pure crystal. After we had walked in, we headed straight to the back to check for the standing room tickets. These were still available for just 2 euros each, but it was really a horrible way to see the show, especially given our lovely outfits. Also, everyone else getting standing room tickets looked positively slovenly. Now, the time being 7:05, I decided to give a quick check at the box office to see if there are any seated tickets available. There were, but only for the 2 most expensive categories. We look at each other and decided, why the heck not, and nodded vigorously at the box office man. He goes on to say, well, the seats are not together. That was a bit of deal breaker, and he could tell that by looking at our faces. "How far apart are they?" I ask. "Let me check something'' he says. He shuffles what look to be tickets paper clipped together and then turns to us again. He says he has 2 tickets together, but they are in category 1. What else, we can only pay cash, ''because it was a cancellation." But, as a token of generosity, he would give them to us for the price of category 2. Due to sheer excitement, we look past the dodginess of the situation and pool together all of our cash, and are short by 80 euros. I can taste these seats now! "I can go to the cash machine if there is one nearby..." I murmur. He just sticks his hand out and counts the money, hands us the tickets and says "Enjoy the show." Score! Stacy earned a 1600% return on her cabbie investment!
Still giddy from our fancy seats, we take the elevator up to we-have-no-idea-where. At the first stop, everyone else gets off, and being as we probably looked a bit confused, the elevator operator asks to see our tickets. Then he makes a strange face. He puts his hand up to stop us from getting off and says, ‘‘you wait.'' Oh no, I think, did we just hand over a wad of cash for fake tickets? Not so. He takes us up another floor, smiles very agreeably and says, ''These are very good seats.'' Heehee!
Needless to say, the seats were phenomenal. Madame Butterfly is in Italian, but our seats (I think all seats actually) had a small screen in front where you could pick a language to translate the songs. Very convenient, as otherwise we would have had no clue as to what was going on. Even if we could speak Italian, the songs were sung so strangely and...well, opera-y...that there was no deciphering. During intermission, we ran out to the nearest cash machine to replenish our wallets. We run back with 15 minutes to kill, and grab champagne and chocolates from the bar and look out over the city of Vienna from the Opera House balcony. We felt to stylish we nearly had to pinch ourselves. After the show, we look for a cafe nearby the opera house, but the city is dead. The population of Vienna is mostly elderly people, and they don't have the siesta-provided energy surge of the Spanish oldies, so they are most definitely home at this hour (about 10:30). We then decide to grab some pizza slices and eat at our hotel.
The next morning we wake up early and go to the Schloss Schonbrunn. The Schonbrunn Palace was built by the royal Habsburg family between 1696 and 1712, and has 1,441 rooms. We took a
tour of the 40 rooms that are open to visitors. This palace is also famous for the performance that then six-year old Mozart gave to the Empress Maria Theresa. The palace rooms are magnificent, designed in the white-and-gold Rococo style, with tall windows, crystal mirrors and chandeliers. The palace grounds have a hedge maze, a botanical garden, reproduction Roman ruins and the world's oldest zoo. We spent the afternoon in shopping and walking around downtown Vienna. The city is absolutely beautiful, and the weather was perfect. Vienna is famous for its pastries and its cafe culture, so we stopped in at Cafe Demel, one of Vienna's most well-known pastry shops. We had apple strudels and lattes, a most rewarding break from shopping! 
True to the promise I made Matt, I stop at a kiosk on the way back to our hotel and get myself a kaiserkraner. A kaiserkraner is a big sausage injected with liquid cheese. Yes. To maximize my kaiserkraner experience, I get a Viennese beer to wash it down with. Stacy was still not feeling 100%, and she had the better sense to not risk her improving health by consuming pure grease contained in fried skin. I must say, the beer and the sausage, in and of themselves, were not very good. But the combination was quite striking, and I began to enjoy this unlikely snack! It felt like a brick in my stomach for a few hours though.
Later that evening, we head out for a typical Viennese meal, only to find that the restaurant our hotel recommended was full, on a Monday night! We find another place, and are reminiscing over our crazy college days when the two guys at the table next to us lean over and ask us if we're American. They were Americans doing a mini-tour of Europe, and ironically enough, they were from Maryland! One of them even went to Towson, Loyola's rival school in Baltimore. It really is a small world. After dinner, we head out to a bar with our new American friends, and drink beers out of mugs.
I am well aware that my luck in Vienna was nearly 100% contributed by Stacy.
“Have you ever been to an opera in Vienna?” you ask? Yes, I have.
We had heard some things about Vienna before our arrival: everyone walks around in fur coats, everyone is old, there are some beautiful palaces, and they eat sausages filled with cheese (we actually only heard this last tidbit from Matt). We also knew about the world-famous opera house, so decided our must-do for this trip was to see an opera. About a month before our trip, I see that Madame Butterfly is playing at the opera house the night we arrive in Vienna (Sunday night). This was perfect! A few weeks before our trip, I search the internet to order tickets before the show only to find that the show was sold out! We were so bummed! We tried some contacts, called in some favors, and found that our contacts were lacking and no one actually owed us any favors. We decide then to try going to the opera house as soon as we arrive, maybe swindling some old men and stealing their tickets while they go to the bar to get us champagne and chocolates. Luckily for us (and all the old men at the opera house that night), there was no need for that.
When we arrive at the hotel, our concierge informs us that if we were to arrive at the opera house 30 to 60 minutes before the show is set to begin, we could purchase standing room tickets without a problem. Phew! So by the time we had brought our bags up to our lovely little Viennese hotel room, it was around 3:30 in the afternoon. All we really wanted to do was just relax and get ready for the show at 6, but being in Vienna only until Tuesday afternoon, coupled with the fact that the big palace we wanted to see (the Belvedere) is closed on Mondays, we decided instead to grab a map and our cameras and hop on the tram.
The transportation system in Vienna is very reliable. There is the underground system and the tram (above-ground) system. The tram system is set up in a loop around the city, and our guide book recommended taking the loop around, which we did many times, albeit inadvertently!
Our first stop was touring the Belvedere Palace. Due to time constraints, we only visited the upper palace (the palace is divided into 2 sections), where there was an art gallery with famous works by Gustav Klimt. There were a couple of really magnificent pieces there, including Klimt's The Kiss and The Bride. Unfortunately the outside of the palace was a bit tainted by the construction to the gardens, but it was still majestic.
After touring around the Belvedere for a few hours, we head back to the tram stop so we can get to the hotel and throw on our cocktail dresses for the opera. On our way, we stop to look at some cheesy advertisements with pictures of Sharon Stone. The advertisements were for the souvenir shop across the street, and featured the words ''Sharon Stone's Choice" with pics of the pseudo-star and a short little Greek man. As we start to walk around these signs, I hear some yelling coming from the other side of the street. I turn to look, and lo and behold, it's the little man in the picture motioning for us to come into his store. I grab Stacy and among stifled giggles we start walking (fast) towards the tram stop. But he is undeterred. He follows us and shouts after us and eventually convinces us to go into his Greek restaurant attached to the shop with promises of free coffee. We follow him in, and the restaurant looks pretty legitimate. He quickly hands us 2 glasses of red wine filled to the brim and seats us at his best table. He leaves us alone for a bit, but keeps coming back and asking about our lives and telling us where he's been in the US. Now, Stacy was just getting over an ugly flu, and wine was the last thing she wanted or needed, so she hardly drank hers. And I could not let 2 full glasses of wine go to waste, so I drank mine. Seeing this, our little friend, Nico was his name, says "This one likes wine!" then proceeds to fill my glass to the brim again! He then escorts us into the souvenir shop, hands us postcards and dresses me in various tacky printed scarves. All Stacy could muster when he draped me in a The Kiss screen-printed scarf and looked at her for her approval was, "I think it looks better on Sharon Stone.'' Thanks, Stacy. We finally manage to tear ourselves away under the false premise that we would return later that evening. I really hated having to lie to Nico. At first we really considered coming back to eat b/c the food looked so good. But in the end, he was just too annoying.
By the time we arrived back at our hotel, we were much later than we had planned. It was 6:20 and we still had to get dressed. We called the cab and in record time were ready to be driven to the opera house. The cabbie was chatting us up, enough so to make Stacy really believe that he was really rooting for us to score some tickets. So I see her hand him a bill as a tip. Now, the smallest euro bill is 5 euros. So once we hop out, I gasp, ''Did you just tip him 5 euros for a 9 euro cab ride?!" and she replies, ''Yes, but I really felt like he was on our side. I thought it would give us good karma.'' And did it ever.
The Vienna opera house is magnificent. It is so ornate but not to the point where it's tacky. It's just very classy. The ceilings are gilded gold, and the chandeliers are pure crystal. After we had walked in, we headed straight to the back to check for the standing room tickets. These were still available for just 2 euros each, but it was really a horrible way to see the show, especially given our lovely outfits. Also, everyone else getting standing room tickets looked positively slovenly. Now, the time being 7:05, I decided to give a quick check at the box office to see if there are any seated tickets available. There were, but only for the 2 most expensive categories. We look at each other and decided, why the heck not, and nodded vigorously at the box office man. He goes on to say, well, the seats are not together. That was a bit of deal breaker, and he could tell that by looking at our faces. "How far apart are they?" I ask. "Let me check something'' he says. He shuffles what look to be tickets paper clipped together and then turns to us again. He says he has 2 tickets together, but they are in category 1. What else, we can only pay cash, ''because it was a cancellation." But, as a token of generosity, he would give them to us for the price of category 2. Due to sheer excitement, we look past the dodginess of the situation and pool together all of our cash, and are short by 80 euros. I can taste these seats now! "I can go to the cash machine if there is one nearby..." I murmur. He just sticks his hand out and counts the money, hands us the tickets and says "Enjoy the show." Score! Stacy earned a 1600% return on her cabbie investment!
Still giddy from our fancy seats, we take the elevator up to we-have-no-idea-where. At the first stop, everyone else gets off, and being as we probably looked a bit confused, the elevator operator asks to see our tickets. Then he makes a strange face. He puts his hand up to stop us from getting off and says, ‘‘you wait.'' Oh no, I think, did we just hand over a wad of cash for fake tickets? Not so. He takes us up another floor, smiles very agreeably and says, ''These are very good seats.'' Heehee!
Needless to say, the seats were phenomenal. Madame Butterfly is in Italian, but our seats (I think all seats actually) had a small screen in front where you could pick a language to translate the songs. Very convenient, as otherwise we would have had no clue as to what was going on. Even if we could speak Italian, the songs were sung so strangely and...well, opera-y...that there was no deciphering. During intermission, we ran out to the nearest cash machine to replenish our wallets. We run back with 15 minutes to kill, and grab champagne and chocolates from the bar and look out over the city of Vienna from the Opera House balcony. We felt to stylish we nearly had to pinch ourselves. After the show, we look for a cafe nearby the opera house, but the city is dead. The population of Vienna is mostly elderly people, and they don't have the siesta-provided energy surge of the Spanish oldies, so they are most definitely home at this hour (about 10:30). We then decide to grab some pizza slices and eat at our hotel.
The next morning we wake up early and go to the Schloss Schonbrunn. The Schonbrunn Palace was built by the royal Habsburg family between 1696 and 1712, and has 1,441 rooms. We took a
tour of the 40 rooms that are open to visitors. This palace is also famous for the performance that then six-year old Mozart gave to the Empress Maria Theresa. The palace rooms are magnificent, designed in the white-and-gold Rococo style, with tall windows, crystal mirrors and chandeliers. The palace grounds have a hedge maze, a botanical garden, reproduction Roman ruins and the world's oldest zoo. We spent the afternoon in shopping and walking around downtown Vienna. The city is absolutely beautiful, and the weather was perfect. Vienna is famous for its pastries and its cafe culture, so we stopped in at Cafe Demel, one of Vienna's most well-known pastry shops. We had apple strudels and lattes, a most rewarding break from shopping! 
True to the promise I made Matt, I stop at a kiosk on the way back to our hotel and get myself a kaiserkraner. A kaiserkraner is a big sausage injected with liquid cheese. Yes. To maximize my kaiserkraner experience, I get a Viennese beer to wash it down with. Stacy was still not feeling 100%, and she had the better sense to not risk her improving health by consuming pure grease contained in fried skin. I must say, the beer and the sausage, in and of themselves, were not very good. But the combination was quite striking, and I began to enjoy this unlikely snack! It felt like a brick in my stomach for a few hours though.
Later that evening, we head out for a typical Viennese meal, only to find that the restaurant our hotel recommended was full, on a Monday night! We find another place, and are reminiscing over our crazy college days when the two guys at the table next to us lean over and ask us if we're American. They were Americans doing a mini-tour of Europe, and ironically enough, they were from Maryland! One of them even went to Towson, Loyola's rival school in Baltimore. It really is a small world. After dinner, we head out to a bar with our new American friends, and drink beers out of mugs.
I am well aware that my luck in Vienna was nearly 100% contributed by Stacy.
“Have you ever been to an opera in Vienna?” you ask? Yes, I have.
No comments:
Post a Comment