Welcome to Austria. Please smoke these.
There must be another Vienna somewhere. There must be two. The one we went to was too Eastern-bloc to be part of Europe. It's the only country I've been to which gave me the impression that encouraging smoking had government funding. You can smoke anywhere. Lifts, toilets, in public.
There were things to get used to over the five days. First, the sense of having no idea where you are in relation to the world. No clue of north or south, safe or dangerous. Worse than this was the strong belief that the taxi drivers new this too. The same trip from Vienna to Baden ranged from between €50 and €80.
This includes when the driver gets lost. The first trip back involved the driver asking for directions twice. Then asking us in German where the hell this hotel stood. Using the German I could remember I repeated the address and asked for a cup of coffee with milk. He drove on looking for a place to dump us.
The last night's driver was best. Heading home late we tried to sleep off the journey. It's the only way to block out the German radio music - men with moustaches playing keyboards. This plan was ruined by the Baden driver who seemed unfamiliar with this Vienna place. He woke me up to say something. My 'ja ja's' were met with more German. My 'Ich spreche kein deutsch' was also met with more German, only this time it sounded harsh. The fucker was arguing with me. He asked if I had a map. I did, but wouldn't find it until I was back in the hotel several hours later. He seemed annoyed at this and blamed me for not knowing where we were going - a task traditionally entrusted to the man behind the wheel.
More attacks as we pulled over to ask for directions. Surprisingly few people about the town at 4.30am. I was stuck for local dialect and decided if he went on I'd just shout back in English. But it was at this stage I realised he was just worried, not mad, and lost. The reputation of his country was at stake. I made reassuring sounds whilst trying to hold back laughter.
We found the hotel. Eventually. After asking twice and then having a guy in his car lead the way. Ironically it was this taxi man who took the shortest route. The others who knew their way managed to add €20 to the trip.
But enough of Austria. I didn't like it. But it'll be a year at least before I go back. I have a theory that the further East you go from the UK the further behind the times they are. Room service for example. Grey buildings. Coffee. But this theory falls flat as it makes Wales the most advanced civilisation in the world. I'm from Wales. I know this not to be true. Bit of a bigoted theory. It needs work.
I'm back though. Nothing could stop that. Not even a lightening strike on the plane. Just a flash and a bang and reassuring words from the BA pilot. It takes more than a few million volts to make me run away.
There were things to get used to over the five days. First, the sense of having no idea where you are in relation to the world. No clue of north or south, safe or dangerous. Worse than this was the strong belief that the taxi drivers new this too. The same trip from Vienna to Baden ranged from between €50 and €80.
This includes when the driver gets lost. The first trip back involved the driver asking for directions twice. Then asking us in German where the hell this hotel stood. Using the German I could remember I repeated the address and asked for a cup of coffee with milk. He drove on looking for a place to dump us.
The last night's driver was best. Heading home late we tried to sleep off the journey. It's the only way to block out the German radio music - men with moustaches playing keyboards. This plan was ruined by the Baden driver who seemed unfamiliar with this Vienna place. He woke me up to say something. My 'ja ja's' were met with more German. My 'Ich spreche kein deutsch' was also met with more German, only this time it sounded harsh. The fucker was arguing with me. He asked if I had a map. I did, but wouldn't find it until I was back in the hotel several hours later. He seemed annoyed at this and blamed me for not knowing where we were going - a task traditionally entrusted to the man behind the wheel.
More attacks as we pulled over to ask for directions. Surprisingly few people about the town at 4.30am. I was stuck for local dialect and decided if he went on I'd just shout back in English. But it was at this stage I realised he was just worried, not mad, and lost. The reputation of his country was at stake. I made reassuring sounds whilst trying to hold back laughter.
We found the hotel. Eventually. After asking twice and then having a guy in his car lead the way. Ironically it was this taxi man who took the shortest route. The others who knew their way managed to add €20 to the trip.
But enough of Austria. I didn't like it. But it'll be a year at least before I go back. I have a theory that the further East you go from the UK the further behind the times they are. Room service for example. Grey buildings. Coffee. But this theory falls flat as it makes Wales the most advanced civilisation in the world. I'm from Wales. I know this not to be true. Bit of a bigoted theory. It needs work.
I'm back though. Nothing could stop that. Not even a lightening strike on the plane. Just a flash and a bang and reassuring words from the BA pilot. It takes more than a few million volts to make me run away.
posted by Stephen | 12:41 PM
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