Vienna's Quiet Welcome

Vienna has been quietly showing up in my life for decades.

As a child taking piano lessons, Mozart was one of the first composers I learned about. Later, when I studied flute, Vienna continued to appear in the stories of composers whose music I loved. It was never a place I constantly dreamed about visiting, but it seemed to quietly weave itself through different parts of my life until, somehow, we finally found ourselves there.

Oddly enough, what struck me first wasn't the music.

It was the quiet.

Early morning cobblestones

Because of the summer heat, Bob and I started our days with early morning walks. The city was still waking up. Streets that would later be full of people were almost empty, with only the occasional bicycle, tram, or delivery truck moving through the morning.

Rainbow in the fountain 

After the places we had recently visited, the contrast was striking. In Fiji, Indonesia, and parts of French Polynesia, mornings often started with activity. Shops were opening, markets were coming alive, and people were already going about their day. Vienna had a different rhythm. It seemed content to ease into the morning.

The slower pace showed up in small details.

There were benches everywhere. Not hidden away as decoration, but placed throughout the city as an invitation. Sit for a while. Rest your feet. Watch the world go by.

I noticed that these weren't benches designed to discourage people from staying. Some were wide, comfortable, and looked like they would almost be inviting enough for an afternoon nap. (Although unlike Istanbul, where we often saw people resting in public spaces, we did not see people sleeping on the benches in Vienna.)

They seemed less like furniture and more like a message from the city: you are welcome here. Stay awhile.

We accepted that invitation often, especially when the afternoon heat arrived and we were grateful for a little shade.

Lots of bikes, and BMW motorcycles, which are what caught Bob’s eye

Bicycles were another part of the everyday rhythm of the city. They weren't something visitors rented to explore Vienna (although there were definitely places that visitors could rent  bikes). They were simply part of how people moved through their lives. Wide streets included dedicated bike lanes, bicycle parking was everywhere, and even public repair stations were available when someone needed a little help keeping their bike going.

Need a tool to fix your bike? They are all here for you.

After months of traveling through places where we immediately stood out, Vienna felt different. We still clearly sounded like visitors when we opened our mouths, but we didn't feel quite as conspicuous. The language felt more familiar, and many of the everyday customs felt closer to what we were used to.

It was easier to simply settle into the rhythm of the city.

Then, almost without noticing, throughout the day, Vienna began to change.

The quiet mornings gradually gave way to evenings filled with music. We would find ourselves listening to musicians performing from balconies above storefronts, with people gathering below. Concert halls came alive. The streets became busier. The city seemed to build the way a great piece of music does, from a gentle pianissimo in the morning to a full crescendo by evening.

Wonderful duet in the balconies above the store

And just when I thought I was beginning to understand Vienna, another layer appeared.

There was another museum I hadn't known about. Another composer connected to the city. Another garden, another building, another story waiting to be discovered. Even things Vienna is famous for, its elegant balls and the waltzes that grew out of them, would have to wait for another visit.

View out if our Airbnb window

Instead of feeling like I was running out of things to see, I found myself realizing how much I was missing.

The truth is, that feeling is not unique to Vienna. We felt it in Istanbul, in India, and even in Fiji after a year and a half of sailing there. I almost never leave a place thinking, Done. I've seen it all.

Travel keeps reminding me that every place is larger than my experience of it.

Vienna simply reminded me of that through the language that has been part of my life for as long as I can remember: music.

Consider this the opening movement of our Vienna experience. The second movement includes Mozart, Haydn, Vivaldi, the Golden Hall, and a few moments when history stopped feeling like history.

Lavender growing in the public square

Part 2 coming soon.