1) Too little sleep, too much fretting. I gave up pretending about 6 AM and started the day.
2) “Do a ‘Skip the Lines with Sisi’ tour!” advised a friend with a Deep Knowledge of Vienna. And so I arranged it, a tour of the Hofburg (the Winter Palace of the Hapsburgs in the city center), with a guide, and an assigned meeting point in the Michaelerplatz.
2a) So naturally I was anxious, mostly due to overthinking. What about the subway? What if I miss the guide? What if I’m late? (Impossible!)
2b) The subway part turned out to be relatively easy, but on the Continent, I’ve learned to use cash instead of a card, as I have no idea what my PIN are. What’s unusual about Viennese subway stations, though, is that there aren’t turnstiles. People just walk in and out, and there’s a little blue box (I discovered later) that says “Ticket Required.” Well, I did get a weeklong ticket, but I completely missed that blue box. How much trouble am I going to get into?
The diving board at the Albertina.
2c) Five stops later I disembarked at the Karlsplatz, walked a long peopled concourse lined with shops and exits, and popped above ground just behind the famous Vienna Opera. A not too confusing walk up the SomethingStrasse brought me to the Michaelerplatz, where I easily found the meeting point — and also some colossal statues of the Labors of Hercules.
Now these guys would put the Brute in Brutalism! Let’s order a few for Boston City Hall.
2c.i) Now whenever I talk about American cities needing Urban Renewal, what I really mean is an increase in Integral Male Statuary. Every plinth, lintel, archway, you name it — they need the Support of Pulchritude. Think of it as a beautification program.
3) The time passed, and as arranged, the guide appeared and members of the group magically formed around her as she checked names. As we were about 20, we were all given “devices,” a box with an earpiece on a long cord so we could hear the guide in any circumstances; on previous trips I’ve heard them referred to as “whispers.” They are Very Helpful Indeed.
4) Our approach to the Sisi Museum was hampered by two no-shows (who did appear 15 minutes in), a restroom break (the restrooms were at the start of the tour, not the end), and one person who needed to use the elevator and then disappeared.
A replica of Sisi’s Worth gown for the Hungarian coronation. It was wider that most of the exhibition spaces.
4a) The Sisi Museum was designed as a series of narrow, angled corridors that occasionally opened into larger rooms. The guide pointed out that it was designed in the 1990s, before Sisi had become quite the cult figure she is today. They were definitely shoveling ten pounds of tourists into a five pound bag; it was tough to move.
4b) What was on view? Some of her gowns and other clothes, both original and reproductions, that showed off her dangerously slim figure. Curling tongs and other “instruments of torture” from her beauty regime. Replicas of her famous diamond stars. Gifts, correspondence, etc. I couldn’t take photos in the space.
4c) The Sisi Museum then transitioned into the private apartments of the emperor and Sisi, so we had a little more space to maneuver. The rooms were both beautiful and reminiscent of Schönbrunn.
Poor Carlotta.
4d) One room was dedicated to the memory of the emperor’s doomed brother Maximilian, who was named Emperor of Mexico and then assassinated a couple years later. Also a portrait of his wife Carlotta, who went mad afterward. (Bette Davis played her in Juarez.)
4e) Sisi’s boudoir — rococolicious. I loved the pale cream upholstery, so natural, until I found out that they had found remnants of the original crimson upholstery and were having it reproduced. What I was enjoying so much was the lining!
4f) To see Sisi’s bedroom with her gym equipment really gave me an idea of how rad she was in her time.
4g) So, that was the Hofburg. The rest of the tour time was spent walking around the building, through the Burggarten, and back to the Spanish Riding School. I wish I could recommend this experience, but the squash at the Sisi Museum really keeps anyone from taking in what’s on view.
5) Nutrition was needed, but what I got was my first sachertorte at the Café Sacher Itself, and even with glass of champagne and a coffee. Have you had sachertorte? Do you like it? This is a cake that will hold you in its embrace in new and tantalizing ways every moment you linger at the table, and beyond. Of course it was served mit Schlag.
5a) A young man, not without beauty, sitting alone at the next table, asked me what I had ordered. We fell into conversation and he did end up ordering the same thing (but without champagne). Wouldn’t you know it, he’s from the Boston area! We had a nice conversation until I got my bill and rose to go.
6) In need of something more self-directed, I wandered through the Burggarten to the enormous Kunsthistoriches Museum, one of the most significant art collections in Europe. And I spent about 2.5 hours just wallowing in the depth and breadth of what was shown. Some delights:
My old friend Marie Antoinette!
A whole room of Velasquez portraits of Spanish Hapsburgs, including Old Hog Jaw himself. To paraphrase GWTW, “You know the Hapsburgs always marry their cousins!”
Tintoretto’s Susanna Bathing.
Guido Cagnacci’s Vision of Saint Jerome. I hope I can bring an energy like that to my later years.
Wolfgang Huber’s portrait of Jacob Ziegler.
Any and all Cranachs.
A whole panel of gold rings set with carnelians.
A bust of a Hapsburg in Louis XIV style with a face so comical I thought of him as Monsieur Potateau Head.
A small allegorical figure of Fury carved from ivory.
7) And then it was time to return to my hotel, which all took place without incident. I did remember to use the ticket box.
8) After a night of almost no sleep and an active day, I had a heavy NAP, and when I came to about 6, I knew I had to do something affordable about dinner. The result: a neighborhood perambulation lightly guided by Google, which led me to pass up a couple places and end up at a neighborhood restaurant for my first tafelspitz.
8a) Now for those of you who don’t know (which I didn’t until yesterday), tafelspitz is basically Austria’s version of New England boiled dinner, only the potatoes are grated and it’s served with applesauce and another sauce involving chives. It was also a favorite of the emperor. And it was filling, which was what I really needed most. Along with a glass of wine so white it was harmless, it was the perfect dinner for the day.
9) Unwisely I brought my laptop back to the hotel bar for a negroni, which is where I’ve been writing all this. The environment is pleasant, as is the staff.
10) Tomorrow . . . who knows?! Vienna awaits, but so does my laundry. And I really need to look for a barber again . . .