Vienna: I Came, I Saw, I Slept

I had to be out of my Bratislava accommodation by 10 am on the day of my departure from Slovakia. The day I was heading to Vienna! I couldn't wait. I'd always heard all these magnificent stories about how imperial and regal Vienna was. Oh yes... and so musical and artistic. I seriously could NOT wait. 

My plan was simple: pack up, sling my big boulder bag on my back, and wander through the old town to find a café for a small breakfast and a coffee before I went to catch my train.

That was the idea, anyway.

It didn't exactly go according to plan. I tried three different places in the old town and was ignored at each. After sitting awkwardly for about fifteen minutes at a time, I’d eventually give up and move on. At one point, I even ended up walking all the way out of the old town before turning around and coming back in again. Did I not look "money money" enough? Eventually, I found a small side-street café where the staff were warm, attentive, and actually seemed happy to see me. By this time, it was almost 11 am... and breakfast had turned into lunch... so I made the executive decision that perhaps an Aperol spritz was on the menu. 

Maybe.

I can't say for sure.

But maybe yes.

Ok... yes, I had an Aperol Spritz.

Maybe two,

Following a delicious avocado poke bowl lunch, I made my way back to Bratislava train station and took the hour-long ride to Vienna, with visions of elegant boulevards, ornate buildings, and grand palaces dancing in my imagination.

When I arrived in Vienna, I realized my accommodation was only about a 45-minute walk away. Yes... doable… but with my backpack somehow getting heavier by the second, I wasn’t entirely convinced I was up for it. So I ordered an Uber.

As odd as this sounds... Uber “upsold” me to the luxury option. It was only slightly more expensive, but the description made it sound as though Vienna’s finest chauffeur was about to arrive in a stretch limousine, ready to whisk me through the city in absolute comfort. They even asked if I had any special requests for the driver…

Um... no.

Anyway... to begin with, it took forever... and a day. As with Uber, I was tracking him the whole time, and it looked like he kept stopping along the way to chat with people on the street. It took ages! AGES! And he was only JUST around the corner. Thank goodness I wasn't bleeding out... 

Seriously... take your time!

I'm only bleeding out...

When he finally picked me up, the ride was…foul.. for lack of a better word.

The car smelled completely of fart. He'd been farting... somewhat profusely... before he picked me up... and as soon as I was safely inside, he just kept on farting!

He was visibly... and verbally furious about the traffic and construction, constantly on the phone, yelling at someone, and slamming his hand against the steering wheel. He felt like Budapest bathroom man energy, just slightly less unhinged. Only slightly, though.

This was my upscale, Uber upgrade.

Slow, angry, fart man.

Eventually, we got through the detours, and I was dropped off at my accommodation.

After checking in and dumping my belongings, I headed straight back out... to explore!

Vienna was gorgeous... sunny, blue skies, the kind of day that was made for walking. I’d marked out so many streets and landmarks I wanted to see, and I just set off with no real plan except to take it all in. 

I followed Mariahilfer Street from my hotel all the way into the centre of the city. The entire stretch felt like one long open-air shopping mall, though hardly anything was open on Sunday. Even so, the streets were still packed with people wandering about.

I walked from about 3 pm until around 9 pm, just taking in everything Vienna had to offer... well, at least all it had to offer in the area I was in. Innere Stadt — Vienna’s historic 1st District. The exquisite architecture and the sheer grandiosity of everything around me were overwhelming at times.

I wandered through the gardens of Maria-Theresien-Platz, then across Heldenplatz, stopping just to stand and ogle at the buildings around me. Hofburg Palace, the former Habsburg imperial palace... Karlskirche, one of Vienna’s most beautiful churches, with its enormous green dome... Albertina, the 19th-century palace... Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien... and so many more. All of them... so elegant, so royal... so impressive.

From there, I meandered down Herrengasse and through countless elegant side streets. Everything felt ornate... and so incredibly dense with history. I have to admit, my neck was starting to hurt from constantly looking upward, and I couldn’t put my phone away for even a second in case I missed another beautiful photo opportunity. There were many.

Every façade was covered in statues, carvings, arches, balconies, and intricate details that made even ordinary streets feel regal. Of course, while I was busy staring upward and filming everything around me, I was paying very little attention to where my feet were actually going, which proved mildly disastrous for my poor knee... on more than one occasion.

I spent a long time lingering around Stephansplatz, admiring St. Stephen's Cathedral. The cathedral dominates everything... gothic, dramatic, and so unbelievably awe-inspiring in a way that makes you just want to stop and stare.

I strolled along Graben, one of Vienna’s most famous pedestrian streets, through Kohlmarkt, where imperial history meets luxury. Very posh... and well out of my price bracket. I also wandered down Rotenturmstraße, stopping in at the occasional cafés, to just enjoy the moment... and a sneaky glass of wine... and watch all the people go by.

I just walked and walked... and walked...

Everything about the city felt so beautiful and regal.

I have to mention the “Library Memorial” as well, because the Holocaust has quietly become a significant part of this trip for me. In the centre of Vienna, in Judenplatz (“Jewish Square”), there’s a monument officially called the Judenplatz Holocaust Memorial, though many people simply refer to it as the “Nameless Library.”

It was created by British artist Rachel Whiteread to commemorate the roughly 65,000 Austrian Jews murdered during the Holocaust.

The memorial is designed to look like a giant concrete library turned inside out. The books all face inward, with their spines hidden, making them unreadable and anonymous. Even the doors are sealed shut, symbolizing stories and lives that can never be reopened. It isn’t beautiful in the traditional sense. It’s cold, heavy, and intentionally unsettling. The endless rows of identical books are meant to represent the enormous number of lives lost... every one of them a person with their own story, family, memories, and future, all suddenly erased.

The names of the concentration and extermination camps where Austrian Jews were murdered are engraved around the base of the monument.

What struck me the most was how unexpectedly powerful it felt. Vienna is so grand and elegant all the time... imperial buildings, beautiful streets... regal and luxurious... and then you turn the corner... and come face-to-face with something so deeply haunting.

“Not all monuments are meant to inspire awe. Some are meant to make silence feel heavy.”

Anonymous

And then there was Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Vienna's ghost of classical music history.

"Mozart was born in Salzburg in 1756 and became one of the most influential composers in Western classical music. A child prodigy, he performed for European royalty while still incredibly young before eventually settling in Vienna, where he composed many of his greatest works. Despite his genius, he often struggled financially during his lifetime. He wrote more than 600 compositions, including operas like The Magic Flute, Don Giovanni, and The Marriage of Figaro. He died in Vienna in 1791 at just 35 years old, but centuries later his music still somehow feels timeless — elegant, emotional, and effortlessly beautiful."

Wonderful Mozart 🖤

By the end of the night, my legs had absolutely nothing left. My knee, in particular, was the first to give out. I’ll just be walking along, normally and then suddenly my leg does this strange wobble... like one of those collapsing wooden puppets from the old Robaxacet commercials. Usually it only lasts a few seconds... and I can walk it off, but I keep imagining it happening while stepping off a train or halfway down a staircase. The scenarios my brain comes up with are quite frightening.

I ended up taking an Uber back to the hotel. My original plan had been to have a couple of drinks and a snack in the lobby bar... but the moment I got back to my room, I collapsed. I was exhausted.

Straight to bed.

No drinks.

No food.

No socializing.

The next morning, I got up early because I had a big day planned. I had booked a historical Hitler/WWII walking tour, wanted to explore Vienna’s graffiti district, and had a Mozart concerto scheduled for that evening.

A full day.

First, though, I had to deal with reality...

I walked about 8 minutes from the hotel to do some much-needed laundry because I had officially run out of socks and underwear, and I was beginning to stink. You know it's bad when you can smell yourself. It was officially a do-or-die situation. The hotel offered laundry service, but I’ve made the mistake of trusting hotel laundry prices before, and I wasn’t about to fall into that financial trap again.

Once the laundry was done, I carried everything back to the hotel and that’s when it hit me all at once... fatigue, nausea, stomach pain, headache. It came out of nowhere and absolutely flattened me.

I figured it was just exhaustion and that I probably just needed a quick nap before my 2:30 pm Hitler tour. That was fine. I took some Tylenol, drank some water, lay down for a moment, and closed my eyes...

My “quick nap” turned into twelve hours.

It felt like some kind of dehydration migraine. I could barely move, and every time I tried drinking more water, I somehow felt worse. It was like my body couldn’t decide whether it desperately needed hydration or wanted to reject it entirely.

I missed my historical WWII tour... but I kept convincing myself I’d still be fine in time for the evening Mozart concert.

Nope.

Missed that too.

So that was day two in Vienna: laundry and bed. That’s it.

It was frustrating, especially because both tours were non-refundable due to a no-show. But if there was ever a decent day to be trapped indoors, it was THIS day. The weather fully cooperated with my misery. It absolutely poured all day... thunderstorms, lightning, torrential rain. Going out would have been a feat in itself. 

The next morning, I left early with an Uber booked for 5:20 a.m. to take me to the airport. I was feeling a bit better. Better enough to at least get out of bed and function like a semi-normal human again.

Honestly, I think I have to accept that I’m not super young anymore. This trip has been an absolute whirlwind... city to city to city, train to train, tour to tour... and I’m probably not as fit as I’d like to believe I am. Not one bit. I think my body just finally hit its limit and shut down on me.

No more.

And honestly… that’s okay.

Moments like this force me to realize things I probably should already know but keep ignoring. If I want to keep travelling like this... hauling backpacks through train stations, walking 25,000 steps a day, surviving on questionable sleep schedules and sheer excitement... then I need to make some healthier changes.

Years ago, I quit smoking because I realized I couldn’t realistically afford both cigarettes and travel. Cigarette prices kept climbing and eventually I had this very simple internal ultimatum:

“Do I smoke, or do I travel?”

Thankfully, travel won.

And now I feel like I’m standing in front of a similar choice again.

“Do I stay unhealthy and out of shape… or do I travel?”

Hopefully, I already know the answer.

I must have still been half-asleep and slightly delirious because I sat in the arrivals area for far too long, wondering why my flight wasn’t showing up on the departure screen. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize I was in the completely wrong section of the airport. The departure screen was actually the ARRIVALS screen. Duh!!

The airport itself did not help matters. Terminal 1, 1A, 1B… up staircases, down corridors, across roads, check-in here, then somehow back across again. I still don’t fully understand the modern airport system, where they insist you check in online beforehand, only to immediately make you stand in another line and do the exact same thing again in person anyway.

And then, finally…

Off to Paris.