I’m going to break this up into three sections: walking, public transportation, and private transportation.
Walking in Vienna is a wonderful experience. So much beauty to take in. But traffic acts as a Darwinistic tool to weed out the foolish and incompetent. Crossing a street is no simple matter. If you are lucky to have one of the rare, and well distanced crosswalks, you can be confident in your ability to get to the other side in one piece. The Austrian driver respects the crosswalk. If you need to walk completely out of your way to utilize this instrument of safety, you are tempted to cross the street without any aid. To do this safely there is a ritual that you must participate in that is like watching tennis. Look back and forth for any cars. If it is clear, continue to swing your head for a possible streetcar coming. Still clear? Watch for those buses. Still clear you lucky dog? Beware the homicidal bicyclist. All clear? Look at the ground to make sure the street is not made of treacherous, ankle-twisting cobblestone for us fashionistas who cannot leave home without high heels! Once the way seems clear, tentatively step off the sidewalk. Proceed with caution as a crazy driver might come out of nowhere, and make a mad dash to the other side of the street. Thank your lucky stars that you arrived safely.
Once your feet have got you to where you are going, you use public transportation, which is great in Vienna. Of course it does have its down sides. The most fun is when you are two minutes late to your bus/streetcar stop and you see your bus/streetcar driving past you and coming to your stop. You are foolishly convinced that you can run your heart out and still make it, just to see it pull away a mere 100 yards from where you stand. The bus/streetcar driver has a schedule damn it, and if you can’t respect that, then tough. You then have to wait 15 minutes for the next bus/streetcar.
(Above photo is a streetcar in Vienna.)
Once you have managed to get your butt on a bus/streetcar, it drops you at the underground, called the U-Bahn. There is no better way to travel, and it is your reward for not getting hit by a car and making your bus/streetcar. Of course, your fellow U-Bahn passengers can be interesting. I’ve broken them into four distinct categories.
First, the matrons. These old Fraus know the system better than anyone. They will push you out of the way either with their shoulders, or just the threat of their canes, to get the best seat. They then grin with satisfaction as you stand. Once the station to get out comes up, they elbow their way to the door and are the first ones out. Make sure to steer clear! What about the old gentlemen you might ask? They clearly have been beaten down by their wives of 40 some years and are a peaceful lot.
The second group is my favorite. The angst ridden teens. I love these guys. They look terrible with their piercings all over their face. The hair is dyed neon pink or green. Their clothes are too tight and they have black eyeliner on so thick their eyes look like holes in their faces. They slouch their way through the underground in angst and glower at anyone who dares to stare.
The third group is the saddest of them all. These are the homeless and clearly unbalanced. My heart goes out to them, but if I may be brutally honest, only if I am standing downwind of them.
The fourth group is the normal people who just need to get to where they are going in one piece. As they ride the system or walk, their faces are completely expressionless. They’re not happy, they’re not sad. They’re just in their own world. That’s kind of funny in its own way.
(Above photo is the U-Bahn train in Vienna. Reminds me of a Star Wars spacecraft.)
Of course there is the private transportation which I mean a car. I have not yet had the misfortune of driving in Vienna, but I have been a passenger numerous times. These people are mental! It’s like go-cart racing, only real! Zipping here, tailgating there, muttering angrily when they cut someone off and that person dares to honk. Yelling when they almost hit some idiot, because clearly it’s the other driver’s fault!
Once I tumble out of a car, I thank my lucky stars that I a) made it there alive b) have public transportation!
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