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Busting Travel Myths in Vienna

Winters in Europe can be gorgeous and romantic, with a view of elegant white slopes peppered with conifers as you sip your hot chocolate with a dash of liquor in hand sitting by a crackling old bonfire in a cosy wooden cottage. Classic picture that is of a winter in Europe.

Na, that was just my imagination taking me on a trip again; I dint experience any of that.

Instead I arrived to a gloomy Vienna, with sleet covered roads and sodden bare trees. For a few moments my heart sank and thought – may be all the guide books were right, maybe it was not a good idea to visit Vienna in January.

“We could have gone to any part of Europe, we have five days on our hands. No planning, no research... I don't like to travel this way,” says Yuktie, my sister and co-traveller. That's exactly the myth I wanted to test.

Tell me, has the weather at a destination ever stopped you from exploring? Say you want to travel to Australia and have vacations in January (for the uninitiated, it is the peak of summer in Australia in the month of January with temperatures going as high as 42°C) What would you do? Just cancel plans due to inconvenient weather? No you wont!

For me the pleasure is in exploring a city, a destination in every season, not just the best and maybe come up with fresh, new experiences. So after depositing my bags at my homestay, in a chilly -3°C I set out to explore the city, little did I know what awaited me on the other side. For want of boredom, Yuktie followed along.  

“We are in Vienna in January, I know its not the best season to visit, but what do you recommend we do?” I hear my sister ask a co-passenger in the tram as we headed to the central station.  He laughs and says there’s nothing much to do, but maybe you can go to the tourist office and see where that takes you from there.  

Sometimes I wonder why locals underestimate the magic of their home country, city. They have lived there all their life and cease to see magic in the mundane; but its different for a new set of eyes exploring a destination for the very first time. A good reason not to take a local’s suggestions too seriously.

On our way to the city centre Karlplatz, we walk toward the exit of the station and my feet take me a Starbucks cafe near the exit. "Where can I get a city map?" I ask at the counter. The barista is not of much help but a lady overhearing us invits us for a cuppa and we get chatting. Meet Kamini, the lady solely responsible for the fondest moments of serendipity I have experienced on my travels. An Indian by birth, Kamini has spent the past 20 years of her life in Vienna and was enjoying her evening post work cuppa with a friend when we her way. Half way through our heart-to-heart she says, “Come I’ll give you a quick orientation to the city." Could we have asked for a better welcome?

So even though the weather continued to be chilly and the wind chill made it even more so, the warmth from this new found friendship and the now uplifted spirits made it quite a bright and happy scene.

Vienna's Winter Wonders:

Rathaus (City Hall) ice skating rink: An absolute must, it will bring out the child in anyone.

Naschmarkt over the Wien river: An eclectic mix of flowers, spices, textiles and more from across the globe.   

Ballet at Vox Opera: When in Vienna, take a piece of its musical soul back with you.

UN Head Quarters: Take the train across the city over the Denube for a tour around the head quarters, just being there and absorbing in all the work they do is overwhelming.

St Stephens Cathedral: The soulful music from the church quire at the Sunday mass will stay with me forever.

Shopping at Karlsplatz city centre: For trinkets, chocolates, liquor and souvenirs and gawking at the magical show windows.

Sample a slice of Sacher-Torte at Hotel Sacher Cafe: Well you are in Europe, let the desert debauchery continue.

Mozarthaus: Let history tell you this great maestro's story, let his music and his tragedy enthrall your senses.

Go see Gustavv Klimt's painting The Kiss, I was mesmerised.

And if that was not enough Kamini's friend introduced us to Lalit Tikku, the owner of Kohinoor, an Indian restaurant, who we hit of off quit well with. When we dropped in at his restaurant the next day (I have yet to taste food as delicious in India as at his restaurant) he offered to drive us all the way to see Kharlenberg, which is Vienna's mountain top affluent paradise. Over a cup of Viennese coffee we enjoyed the view of Vienna city from a mountain top cafe. I never cease to be amazed by the happenstance of such moments and the quality of conversations that follow thereafter.

Kahlenberg panaroma terrace http://www.wien.info/en/sightseeing/green-vienna/Kahlenberg

Tips:

- Tram no 1 takes you around the city, you need not hop on to a tourist bus if you don't like to be chaperoned around.

- Vox Theatre and Vox Opera are two different places. We made the mistake of going to the former when we had tickets booked for a ballet at the latter. Also if possible don’t buy opera tickets from the tourist centre, they charge double the actual price  

- If on a quick day or two trip to Vienna you can leave your bags at the Westbahnhof station lockers, they are a boon for travellers. 

- Open Wifi in public spaces: Rathhause, Nash Market, Hardrock Cafe, among others

One of my last interactions with a local in Vienna was on the train ride to the UN centre. its amazing how two people can understand eachover sometimes even without speaking the same language. While seeking directions to the UN, a lady showed us the right route and the right stop. We exchanged notes about our countries and just before we left to get off, in a way to bid us good bye she said, "Ram Ram!" Isn't that something!

I put my hands together in a traditional Indian pose and bid her goodbye with a Namaste.

Isn't this what gorgeous travel memories are made of?   

A Montage of Words

The past couple of weeks have been all about reading, writing and research; with worlds seeming to have enveloped me in a cocoon. As I stepped out for my morning run this Sunday morning too I was shown visually intriguing montages of our daily, seemingly mundane lives transforming themselves into candid frames for my study and observation. So after the end of the run, a collective of words seemed to have strung themselves in a memory game, as I progressed with each kilometer finding itself intertwined with the previous, compelling me to memorise the sequence for a complete string of 10.    

I read somewhere that focusing on a mantra helps dispel distractions while you focus on your run. It’s all nice to say but seldom easy to have a one point focus on a thought for all the while throughout your run. This is a string of scenes I came across during my Sunday run; one world sprung to mind for each one with seemed to have synced itself with every kilometer I covered. 

1. Breakfast. What’s a rickshaw to you today? A mode of transport, bringing to mind a foul interaction with the dozen or so drivers who refuse to take you to your destination each day? No none of that, thank you. Jogging along the Bandstand promenade, my eyes fell on a scene of cupcakes, bread and chai adorning the back seat of a rickshaw. It was a simple breakfast laid out neatly for two, the driver soulfully sipping his morning cuppa and a friend partaking in the sweetmeats. Both commuter and driver sipping a bite and pleasurably watching the morning surfs chime in. Doubt the most expensive bungalows on that route could experience this luxury.  It’s the kind of image that gives Bombay a happy candid allure as opposed to this rushed manic Mumbai we are a part of each day.
2. Play. Come let’s play I could almost hear him saying. A bunch of stray dogs loitering around a path in my run, one of them having found an interesting piece of scrap long enough for two of the dogs to wrestle with. So he playfully prances to his friend on the extreme right and nudges him with his muzzle, come let’s play! A noticeable change in their stride I saw, a graceful hybrid between a hop and a gallop. It just made me so happy. Later on my run tracking app Endomodo I noticed that particular km was my fastest, wonder whether that those few minutes their enthusiasm mingled with mine. 

Breakfast. Play. Each thought compiled into a single composite word, nice I think..

3. Night out. A threesome step out of a vehicle, their Saturday night out bling still on, perhaps just about done with their all night revelries, the girls holding their stilettos in hand and the guy groggily leading them to a coffee shop. I am not much of a party animal, yet a minuscule pang of jealousy sprouts, hmm. Moving on. 

Breakfast. Play. Night out. Each kilometer personifying into a character of its own..

4. Food. A taxi driver almost done with his routine of washing up and sprucing up his wagon for the day, steps on to the side walk opens up a bag and spreads a bundle full of dry rice grains on to the floor. The light pit pat of the grains meeting the floor and the soft flutter of sparrows flying in for that generous meal, aha! It’s a mundane act, so full of compassion that its magic is so fleeting; it made me smile and thank the goodness in us all for making me a witness to it.    

Breakfast. Play. Night out. Food. Over and over I kept repeating the words, by now it was clear they demanded retention, assuring me of a well strung set..

5. Love. A lady stands with two dogs on leash, both standing in sync tall and proud of their doting human parent. No she was not cuddling and caressing either of them but a fellow third dog, albeit a stray one but a distant cousin or friend from another life. The joy with with he responded to her touch and the indulgent affection she showered on him even while her two own stood by..

This was getting tough for me, what with the short term memory retention issues I face.. yet I persisted - Breakfast. Play. Night out. Food. Love.

6. Privilege.  A black SUV, with very dark tinted glasses, and a big Maharashtra govt number plate is parked on the side of the road. A girl sits in, clearly waiting for her partner to come back. As I cross the car I see a group of young men sharing chai and smokes and whiling away an early morning in general, on my return from the same route I see one of those boys but his smoke and head back to the car. Citizens of the country are made to strip off the tinted shields from their cars after a case of molestation with a fine to all those who disobey. Yet this young chap, clearly a son of one of the great leaders of our country drives a vehicle with dark tinted glasses. As he turns on the ignition I think, what’s the point of privilege if its almost always exploited.

The rhythm set, my limbs flowing in sync with each other, not a move out of place, albeit slow but maintaining the rhythm. This mantra seemed to be helping. Breakfast. Play. Night out. Food. Love. Privilege.  

7. Solitary. It was like someone cut-pasted her out of a countryside scene into this urban landscape. There she was, this frail, old lady with a stack of firewood cradled with one arim on her head and a bundle of her belongings held protectively in the other. She walked barefoot on this narrow cobbled road as I jogged by and it almost felt like I was an out of place coloured blotch in this classic candid black and white photograph/ I almost saw her in black and white.

Now it was getting tough, both the run and the retention. ‘I am not playing this stupid game anymore,’ the mind says. Hmm. Breakfast. Play. Night out. Food. Love. Privilege. Solitary.      

8. Muscle moving on from that almost skeletal frame I see this mammoth creature, weighed down by his bulk. Rippling muscles from every sinewy his body, this man walks on in that classic body builder gait. We seemed to exchange a look that said, “Ah we all do what we think we want, sometimes not doing what we really need.”

‘Ok, now that’s it, you don’t think this is silly this Breakfast, Play, Night out, Food, Love, Privilege, Solitary, Muscle! They don’t even mean anything. How about we slow down and enjoy this gorgeous breeze’

Aha, nice, the mind was actually retaining it, so I said, ‘No, just a couple more, don’t disturb me now.’    

9. Study. I have completed a circuit around Bandra’s promenades by now and head towards Joggers park; just as I enter I see a boy slip but catch himself just before he tripped, another scene for my mind to get curious about.  The boy bends down to pick up a packet of biscuits that fell to the muddy track. As he bends picking up his snack for the day, my eyes trail to his left hand holding the bible of most last minute studying students - the Navneet Digest. I smile as I remember all those years ago, those last minute attempts to remember one line answers. I wonder though, how he planned to study in the midst of the many distractions in the park, but then I think who am I to judge.

I am not moving another step, I hear my mind say just as an alarm of my limbs slowing down strikes. Err no you don’t! Panic! What was it? Privilege? Something to do with dogs? What was it! I can’t remember!

BREATHE. Calm Down.

Ahh, something to do with an important part of the day? Ah yes! Breakfast.

Breakfast. Play. Night out. Food. Love. Privilege. Solitary. Muscle. Study.      

10. Celebration. The street is a buzz with the inaugural ceremony of an edifice made in honour of Sachin Tendulkar, on an otherwise quiet Sunday. Honestly I’d rather they have invested all that money in cleaning up the beach beyond the promenade. Rather I see it all neatly covered so as not to mar the celebrations of the day, a token to our favourite son of Bandra they say!

A new scene, I am glad the mind found something intriguing enough to overlook the apparent exhaustion during this last kilometer. Let’s check again what was it..

Breakfast. Play. Night Out. Food. Love. Privilege. Solitary. Muscle. Celebration      

What’s happened amazed me as every scene I came across triggered a thought. Each one of them could have lead to a barrage of thoughts and pretty much foiled my 10 km run plan. But the thoughts seemed to work in unison, they singled out a world representing each of them making it a string of montages and memories. What is a mantra but a set of world designed to help you maintain a single minded focus, this was it. The mantra that formed itself during the course of my run and made me repeat it till the end. It was a sum total of all my thoughts during the run and at the same time a focused rendition of one entirety with each thought somehow in sync with the next.    

Why have I shared this post on a travel blog you ask? because my mind travels even when I run. 

The Key

‘Germans are a cold, uninvolved people’ so I was told before my travels to the country.

Do you agree? When you travel to a destination, is your interactions with the locals of relevance? It’s a deal clincher for me - interactions with people I meet each time I travel, they are the ones that transform an experience into a memory and to think I was on my way to meet cold, uninvolved people; hmm, I was about to test that.

It was our first morning in the city of Munich. We landed at 5.45 am and were to reach our home-stay by 7.45 am. Stephie and Stephan, the young couple we were staying with left for work early in the morning which meant we had to collect the key by 7.45 am. Reaching later meant hanging around with our bags for the rest of the day waiting for them to return back home.

As per earlier correspondences with them during bookings, we were also to give them a heads up from the airport once we land, that would give a fair idea about our time of arrival at their home. As it turned out, all stores were shut at the airport and our plan of buying a local sim card to get in touch with our hosts went kaput. So there was no way we could communicate with them about our whereabouts on the move should we reach late.

Logic – an evasive yet essential quality a traveller must possess. Though it is quite lost without the esoteric qualities of hope and impulse I assure you. But for this case let’s consider logic; which clearly said we were not going to reach in time even though we were in Germany, where things work; and that too at the speed of light. Expecting our hosts to wait back until we reached would have been a little too much. So the natural state of mind that early morning was not a groggy one but an alert and charged one at that.

As we headed out from the airport to catch the S8, the train line connecting us from Munich international airport to Hauptbahnhof, the city centre which is approximately an hour away; we met Noam, a musician from Isreal studying at the university. He noticed how wired we were and got chatting. My travel companion and sister Yuktie batted her eyelids and got right to it.

‘What, not you? You are the shy one?’ You might ask? Ah yes, contrary to what appears, this well travelled, globe-trotting girl is a shy thing. But ever so often when the moment feels like it she shares a part of her soul with a fellow traveller, but then it is just that. Not so much as a chat, a banter, connecting over Facebook after, no, none of that. Sharing a few thoughts with a perfect stranger and in turn being given a share of their experience, that’s half the simple pleasure I get from travelling. And then who knows, I might just meet them on another trip, in another part of the globe, and that would make for such a gorgeous story, yes!        

There I go again, aha, coming back to this story, where was I? Yes, on the S8 onward to the city centre, seeing my sister happily flirt away with Noam the musician I look out the tinted shield of the tube flying us through the landscapes of Munich, ever aware of that ticking clock, getting ever so close to 8’o’clock.  

It was 7.45 by the time we reached Hauptbahnhof from where we had to look for the connecting train to Schwanthalerhöhe, the station closest to the home-stay.

Did I tell you I failed a navigation exercise at a mountaineering course I did years ago? Getting lost is another forte it seems, and this is one of those moments I did it with flourish! Even though there were detailed maps all around us, Stephie had shared detailed directions too but in that web of trains and routes I was lost. How? You ask. Here’s a comparative example - if you are from Bombay. Imagine you’ve reached Dadar (central station) and need to head to Bandra. You find the right platform and happily wait for the train to arrive. But just after you’ve entered the train and look triumphantly at the map, you realise you have taken the train in the opposite direction towards Chembur! That’s what happened, by which time we had crossed a couple of stations. So with a backpack and trolley bag in hand we routed back to the central station and were finally directed to the correct platform, this time in the correct direction.

10 minutes to 8 o’clock and I was like a ticking time bomb. All those moments during college rushed back to my memory when friends called me a ticking time bomb, and I thought how right they were! Missing the first few minutes of a new film or being late for that musical was unthinkable and should you be with me for those minutes before an almost late arrival, let’s just say you would be best pals with the minutes and seconds handles on my watch.

Stephie and Stephan had shared with us elaborate directions of how to reach their home in the form of illustrated maps and coloured arrow marks; which I found extremely detailed and sweet coming from the reputation their country folk had. I swiped them out just seconds before the train halted at the station. Quickly stepping out of the train with all those bags in hand, high on adrenalin, swiping out my smart phone to check the next left or right. Yuktie reaches out to the person nearest as we head out for directions and before she could so much as say ‘Hi’ this tall, blue eyed man calls out, Hi, are you Diipti? I zone out of my state of panic and register this stranger with a bright smile; thinking ah I can’t be that famous already! He introduces himself  “Hi I am Stephan! I was heading for work and thought maybe I’ll find you at the station.”

He had been waiting for us at the station with the key to his home for ten minutes before heading for work that morning.

What were the odds of this happenstance? Trains and platforms as in all parts of the world are long and crowded. Yuktie and I were on the left-most compartment of the train. We could have gotten off and walked in the opposite direction. Stephan could have been standing at the other end of the station. But what were the odds of us arriving within a few minutes of him waiting for us there with the key, there - just at the spot where we got off! What were the odds.

Cold, uninvolved – not in the least! I can’t imagine a more involved, concerned gesture from a perfect stranger. Stephan not only was waiting at the station to give us a key to his home but also escorted us out in the right direction from the station almost heading back home with us. 

That right there is the best example of busting clichés and stereotypes about people when we travel.

The next time you visit Munich and are looking for a place to stay, I recommend Stephie and Stephan's home, they really make you feel like its your home.

(Note: This was a self sponsored trip, the hosts where adorable enough to spend time with us chatting about Stephie's recent visit to India and our mutual wanderlust.)

I Used to Travel to Escape

I used to travel to escape

Escape the familiar, the complex

I ask myself now, was it just that?

Was it not my instinct to explore, reach out, change

A beckon from the pulse of the intrepid, the surge of chaos?   

Now I travel to understand

Understand that people essentially everywhere are good

That goodness I feel when I am part of a sunrise,

That rush when I catch a train on time.

For a moment, a silent prayerful moment

In the blue mosque

I see a little girl

Silently observe the world go by

With a hand absentmindedly holding on to her grand dad.

Its just that. This pleasure of our travels,

It takes us by the hand

Silently, playfully,

Through the world’s wonders, its colours its splendours

For just that one magical moment, that warm smile from a stranger,

That is what I travelled all those miles away to experience,

Now, 

I travel to feel.   

To feel, to believe.

I Have Been Here Before

It was summer then, with the tips of rooftops awash with crisp sunshine, bright colours like fairies reflecting its surfaces. Now amidst this white powder snow, I marvel at the stark beauty; Ladakh makes sure it welcomes me with each time I visit. This is at Thiksey Gompa, one of the most visited, a must do on the tourist trail in Ladakh.

Would you go back to the Eiffel tower, each time you travel to Paris? May be you dint go all the way to the top the last time? Perhaps you would revisit a sunset at the queen’s necklace in Bombay; for a sun set after all has a different magic to it each time. For all the summers I travelled to Ladakh, this was the first winter I witnessed. If the place has a charming mystery to it in summers, the allure manifests in its every iota in winters, mesmerised I was, yes.

I am not much of a dancer; and in those layers of winter wear, moving, barely so. You don’t suppose a rhythmic step or two would be a part of the script that day, yet here I was singing and gracefully swinging along. Was it me or the magic I could feel throbbing through this landscape?

This was January 2013, just before I walked the Chadar trek, across the Zanskar valley. It was a quick day trip, just before we went off the grid, onto the seclusion of that icy white trail. It felt like home, it felt my own.

Is that another rhyme I see?

Aha yes, Ladakh tends to do that to me.