Oh, Vienna!

I hope the Dog of the Year isn't too lonely.

Flora's on the road.

But anyway, I was remiss to tell you that I've had

to endure Vienna before Paris, and then Venice.

I know.

Vienna was lovely.

But my heart's still a little way away.

I suggest you get a room with a view (so you can orientate your mind), if one of your old

chalkface colleagues is your personal tour guide, and a semi-local.

 

S and I have said for years, we'd meet in Vienna.

Here she is doing something what she does best.

Touring guiding in the driving rain.

S frequently visits her mother who lives there, in Nussdorf.

Nut Village.

Just near the start of the Danube canal.

And, we went for a visit there, too.

Here's two swans. Remember, I am an Antipodean from the north

end of the end of the universe, so these birds enthral.

We made a visit to her mother's little apartment.

Full of orchids that she blooms herself.

Little effort required.

S traipsed us around the city for hours.

The information was over-whelming and to be honest, right now

I can remember something about a wall, and a Prinze who

had great taste in decorating.

And, what I already knew about that cat-loving and caftan wearing seducer

the great Klimt. Not to forget Vienna's other God, Hunderwasser.

Here's the Secession Museum, Klimt and his artist friends got

built back in the early 1900s after getting the land from the Vienna municipal.

 

 



Here's part of our staple diet.

Fuel to get around all these site-seeing places. 

Vienna Opera.

Volksopera.



 





The Belvedere and its Masterpieces.

A Philip Treacy gig at Swarovski crystal.

Philip had whipped up some jewelled headpieces.

Hugo Boss doing a roaring trade in Dirndls and Lederhosen.

Who would have thought?

More Swarovski making an effort.

Staple diet continues.

Tortes.

Vienna sausages.

Horseradish, not grated cheese.



Schnitzel, so thin you could read a newspaper through it

before crumbing.

Porcelain.

Klimt's omnipresent.

The Colleseum has its Gladiators; Vienna has its Mozart look-a-likes selling

tickets to every other thing.

Most helpful.



 



St Stephens.

Mozart balls.

Off to Venice, now.