Signs of encroaching decrepitude? :-)!
Vienna, you alone shall be the city of my dreams.
How true!
After mumble years away, the city of my dreams still is and always will be
-my Vienna. I keep remembering her fondly. Always full of music. Full of unexpected surprises - just around the corner. Just down that little lane.
Just behind those big doors - a miracle garden.
And full of desserts, and OMG what desserts!
Mozartkugeln, Marzipantorte. Apfelstrudel, Marillenknoedel. Mokkatorte. Oblatentorte, Kaiserschmarrn. Kastanienreis mit Schlag - to you that's whipped cream or for the Germans Sahne! Malkofftorte mit Schlag
Chocolaty cream puffs, lighter than air.
Chestnuts hot from the fire.
Foehnwind whistling down from the mountains. And giving some a headache-excuse for not...
working too hard.
Gotta have our Gabel fruehsteuck, our afternoon Jause!
Life's too short to'waste'on work, ha!
New strong wine (Heuriger) tartly sweet.
Mellow 'old' wine (Alter) deceptively mild. Both are best enjoyed outdoors soon after the wine has aged..often by special invitation of the vintner to his/her Stammkunden only! And with good friends!
Or even strangers, Wine makes friends of many :-)!
But both creating music from the vines alone, no need for musicians.
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| Schrebergarten hut (maybe on the Schmelz) |
Comedians and satirists. Galgenhumor, a Viennese speciality.
Laughter is in the air. Live is good. Live and let live.
Have a little love affair. or have several.Strolling hand in hand and arm in arm.
The Schmelz: formerly Imperial army parade gound,
then a maze of little gardens with tiny huts for the weekend vacationer/orchard growers.
(now alas just rows upon rows of apartment buildings- I know one has to live somewhere, but...)
Cherries, sweet, Cherries sours (my face), tiny flavorful strawberries,
Ribisel (Currants) black, red and white.
Gooseberries..with their hairy skin, yet so crunchy.
"Kuess d'Hand Gnae Frau!
Habe die Ehre, Herr Graf!" - in those days, these were typical addresses in polite society!
Charm, that vaunted Viennese charm, makes all so vibrant! People drink to brotherhood with linked arms and call all DU! Velvet glove hides claws.. that IS the Viennese temperament. The ability to laugh at oneself. The ability to 'manage things' somehow and somewhat without resorting to overt violence, the need to be 'gemuetlich' in all things-that is so uniquely Viennese. Is it because the Viennese are such a misch masch of folks?
Influenced by the West (think Habsburg Spain-the World where the sun is said to never set).
And by the East, Hungary, Galizia, Herzegowina, Bukowina, Romania, and other Asian parts.
Have the Viennese inherited some genes from Tartaric, Hunnic, Awaric, Roman invaders?
All seems possible in my Vienna of many cultures!
Small glasses of Hochquellenwasser refilled endlessly.
Black Coffee, Melange, a small brown, Espresso,
Einspaenner with whipped cream.
Punschkrapferl, Kapuzinerkrapfen, Wiener Eiskaffee on the dog days of summer a welcome refresher,
Cremeschnitte, Sachertorte,
Kastanienreis mit Schlag, Faschingskrapfen. Mohr im Hemd, Guglhupf! Demels, Aida, Gerstners ... I can still see and smell and taste those sweets!
Sacherwuerstel, Debreziners, horseradish, sweet mustard, Wachauerrolls.
Serbian Bean or Gulyas soup on a cold morning after a ball.
Music that simply needs to be danced in the arms of friend.
Or hummed or whistled.
Concerts, Classical and Cafe dance.
Operas in the Staatsoper, on the lake in Bregenz,
in Mozart's city of Salzburg.
Indoors and outdoors.
Operettas at the Volksteater, Burgenland on the lake stage, in castle courtyards, en plein aire.
Plays, Burgtheater, Akademiethater, Volkstheater, Summer festivals.
Street entertainers.
From around the world they come to busk in the streets of Vienna and others.
Organ players with monkeys.
Accordionists, Violinists, Trumpeters, Singers, Harpists.
Sundays trips by streetcar to the nearest Vienna Woods.
Leisurely hikes through woods filled with fragrant flowers.
Those tiny violets with their strong woodsy scent.
Snowdrops poking out from snow still on the ground.
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| Chetsnut tree's blossoms like proud candles |
Delicate anemonies swinging in the breeze.
And the smell, THE smell of Lilacs, lilac, pink and white blossoms sending their olfactory message far out into the world.
Children (yes, me too) hopscotching, rolling marbles,
sliding down anything one can - on ice, on marble, on banisters.
Sledding down steep side streets empty of cars-then!
Snowball fights, snow angels in the City.
.
Walking home from the grandparents on a still Christmas Eve Night, snow falling softly.
And behind every window the sudden flares of a real-candle-lit Christmas tree!
Bundling up for Midnight Mass.
Hearing 'Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht' (Silent Night) sung by many voices,
and yet so tranquil and introspective.
The scent of the censers being swung stately perfuming the air.
The Latin words of the mass spoken in awe.. none in the vernacular then.
Images, oh so many images, crowding in.
From a happy childhood that did not realize the deprivations that were suffered after WWII.
Bomb craters of house cellars became ice rinks
(broke my right wrist once, scraped numerous knees and elbows, cut fingers)
but it was so much fun!
Walking on the fresh snow of an early morning breaking a first trail-pristine, unsullied.That undescribable feeling of being on top in a white clean good world.
Well, THAT was the Vienna of my youth, still reeling from the devastations of WW II, but for a child full of magic.
Walking down to the Westbahnhof and dreaming of far flung places... Geneva, Paris, London, Brussels, watching well-dressed people (yes they dressed to travel then-furs and jewelry-a safer world?) stepping out of sleepers, diners. The ne plus ultra of travel for me, then and still preferred!
And that WAS my Vienna, seen through the eyes of an unspoiled child, a lonely child, with big wishes for adventure in the wide world... who ended up in the USA!
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