The Western Railway from Salzburg to Vienna turns the DB-damaged world view of train travel completely upside down. The train pulls into the station. On time, at below zero degrees! Every passenger gets a seat with a plug at a good price – without a reservation, and you pay with EC to the friendly steward instead of the snotty conductor. Free wifi swings us gently and quickly to Vienna. Legendary German qualities on holiday in Austria.
On the first night, we slay a legend. The old doorman in the purple waistcoat asks us to leave. Looking at my old jeans, he announces the dress code – but after another critical glance at my Austro-Turk “hairdresser” ravaged head of hair, he takes pity on me. We enter the Eden Bar.
In the old days, legends frequented this side street behind the cathedral. Harald Juhnke successfully completed several liver boot camps. Today we are the only guests in the sultry darkness between velvet and art deco lamps, along with a couple of Russian sluts.
The befracked Obet empties our ashtray in the non-smoking area after every single cigarette. Then the Thai jazz band plays. Together, the five of them have an impressive 284 years of stage experience. Only the young guitarist prevents them from reaching 300. The band leader in her 70s glitter trouser suit greets us with a handshake and then asks for our favourite song in a charming accent.
Just as I’m thinking how devilishly reminiscent the location and band are of a zombie film in Titty Twister, the corpse behind the Yamaha organ of death sings a sultry “Killing me softly”. The singer notices my grin as she pays for our two €25 drinks from the lower end of the price scale, but probably misinterprets it due to our divergent cultural backgrounds. Quality: priceless!
After eight hours of power shopping through 30 shops, the best possible contrast programme to the previous evening follows. In the Middle Ages, Vienna’s witches were burned at the gates of the city on Erdberg. It’s still burning today, just a little differently.
The Arena is a wonderfully dilapidated old factory full of graffiti and weird people. The walls of the toilet are held together by 1.5 cm tape stickers, and in the pub in front of it, a furnace is dismantling a few rockers in front of the oven.
Today Vienna Teenage Riot aka Sex Jam are playing some great noise. My underdressed yesterday is overdressed today – at least until the first of several beer showers. In the first pogo pot, my filming Moto G4 proves its toughness and survives a two-metre fall onto concrete. The place is dark, but the people are colourful. It’s a shame that there will never be anything so wonderfully morbid at home…
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.