The Jay-Blog

This morning over breakfast, I debated whether to go into Vienna (half an hour away) or walk along the Danube. It's my last day in Europe on this trip. Another factor: I have no cash. My ATM card expired last week; my wallet contained $10 and 6 euros. And Austria is not particularly credit-card friendly. I opted for Vienna, taking the 9:00 am train from Fischamend.

I walked over to St. Stephen's ("Steffi" to the locals). Dating back to 1147, the oldest remaining part is the Giant's Door, named for the mammoth's bone found there during renovations in the 1500s.

I had a great lunch at Do & Co., a fine restaurant on the eighth floor of a building across from Steffi. The tower and I got up close and personal. The bell inside was made from a hundred captured Turkish cannonballs. My gazpacho and loup de mer were yummy.

The center of Vienna is filled with walking streets. I walked for hours, gawking at the architecture and peering into shop windows. Shops can tell you a lot about a people.

New models and classics are available -- if you have $30+ to spend on a 4" car.

The Stepford Austrians in a doll shop.

I will never tire of toy model trains.

The Viennese will not let you forget that in the good old days, the Hapsburg Empire was supreme. I wandered around the Hofburg, the former Imperial Palace.

Emperor Frederick III's motto was AEIOU: Alle Erde ist Oesterreichs Untertan (All the Earth is Austria's Subject).

Maybe it's imperial self-importance, but for some reason, the Hofburg is decorated with bearded Arnold Schwartzenegger-types battling serpents, proto-pit bulls, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon.

Music is important here. I saw dozens of people dressed up in Mozart-era costume, trying to sell concert tickets. I walked by Mozart's house here; Haydn's, too.

Strauss.

Former imperial stables have been converted into an immense art complex. The Leopold Museum is an enormous white cube, one of six museums on the grounds. Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele, Oskar Kokoshka, and at least fifty other Austrian artists I had never heard of, but whose works were quite moving, hang there. Richard Gerstl painted wonderful stuff, hung out with Arnold Schoenburg, carried on with Frau Schoenburg, and commited suicide when she left him. Kolo Moser not only turned out wonderful paintings but also designed furniture.

The parks tell me where Frederick Law Olmstead got his inspriation.

I'm sure the shopkeeper with the stork has good luck. The shop featured a large painting of a stork as well.