Vienna to Salzburg

Aneela Apa visited Vienna soon after I had paid it a visit and had raved about the beauty and sheer loveliness of the city. Apa had less to say on the matter “Europe ka Dubai lagta hai!” (It’s like the Dubai of Europe!). Indeed, Vienna seems to have commercialized and marketed certain signature Austrian exports rather well. Take Mozart for example, the tube station, Stephenplatz, near the Opera House has toilets where one can listen to Mozart (for a small fee, of course). But I’ve long realized that I can form an affinity with cities which may not be everyone’s cup of tea. I’ve claimed Karachi as my own or vice versa. I’ve never been at outs with this city. Now, I’m not delusional enough to think that Karachi is a city which has been kind to everyone, but I think amongst other reasons, the degree to which this city is capable of accepting diversity has endeared it to me.  Vienna, on the other hand, has a bit of something which all big European cities offer: beautiful cathedrals, good cafes, an excellent art museum or two and naturally, scenic pathways. 

[the opera house by night]

[the danube, near sunset]

[see what i mean about quirky?]

[what hits you is that as a woman in Pakistan you can’t do things which are so normal and routine (and fabulous!) abroad such as, going for a walk or a jog along the river]

[The famous Sachertorte]

I admit I found it to be quite dry, even with the cream. Although, Café Sacher is still a great place to go to for some tea and cake (I recommend the pound cake with orange rinds). The waitress might wonder if you’re English when you ask for milk with your tea. Don’t worry, you don’t have a fake British accent. Your forefathers were colonized and you must suffer the consequences. In any case, your desi angerazi is good enough.

Some restaurants, like this one had the perfect balance of quirky and comfortable. What I adore most is chancing upon such a place after walking through what feels like a labyrinth of narrow lanes and ending up here. This is also the auspicious place where an erstwhile ignorant girl from Azerbaijan was introduced to Fawad Khan. 

[See what I mean about quirky?]

[St. Stephen's Cathedral ]

The area around it makes for the most sublime walk at night. A scene from Before Sunrise was also shot here.  Once, I walked by three desis here; two of whom were posing away with dire instructions from their photographer (“I’m your foto-photo-photoGRAPHER! Do as I say!”). I cracked up and took it as an opportunity to explain the phenomenon that is Miss Meera Jee (at hotmail dot com) to my bewildered friend, Arzu, from Azerbaijan. Interestingly, it led to a conversation about the entertainment industry in Pakistan and Azerbaijan and I have a distinct feeling Arzu came out the other end, feeling a great comradeship with Pakistanis. The reason was simple: Ishq-e-Mamnoon, the workings of which I am well informed of owing to an enthusiastic Phuppo, who being quite the story teller would take it upon herself to explain and recap everything for me. I say this with fondness, of course; both for my Phupo and Arzu, since while one had told me the story, another hastened to reassure me that the Turkish soap was just as big in Azerbaijan as it was in Turkey, so much so that one could buy cheap knocks off of the clothes that the gorgeous heroine, Beetar wore in the series. My friend explained how the lead actor from Ishq-e-mamnoon is to Turkish television industry what Shahrukh Khan is to Bollywood. I too, had desi arsenal up my sleeve from our side of the border and felt it was my duty to bring Humsafar to my friend’s notice which is what led to a foray into google image searches (Thank you, Mr Jobs!) and much giggling over Fawad Khan and Kivanc Tatlitug from Ishq-e-Mamnoon.  

I always come back from such conversations amazed and enchanted at how two human beings can be from two very different places, one having grown up in a country previously colonized by the British and another from a previous Soviet Nation and not be so different after all. It is simultaneously accompanied by a feeling of incredulity towards people who travel and fail to interact with foreigners beyond the necessity to do so. But that’s a meandering for another day. My father isn’t far from the truth when he points out the many similarities between my phupo and me. 

 

[enroute from Vienna to Salzburg]

On the scenic route from Vienna to Salzburg. I’m not the best photographer but I don’t think I could have taken a bad picture that day. To top it off my companions were two middle aged teachers from Spain and Israel respectively, who whiled away the time by asking the tour guide about the more important aspects of his life, “How much do you earn?”, “Do you have a wife?” “No? Aren’t you catholic?” There’s no lesson here, only the realization that inquisitiveness to the point that it becomes highly irritating is universal. The exception, of course, is when you’re not at the receiving end; then it’s highly entertaining. I recommend that you pretend to doze off if you’re ever in similar company. It is a skill I’ve perfected over the years which almost always works. Not on my Nani Ami though, who chooses to gently pinch me on my arm, and reminds me to keep my eyes open lest the driver has had a change of heart and decided to kidnap us on our way from Defence to Malir Cantt. Arguing with her is futile as Nani Ami, besides being able to vividly relate the details of train journey from Agra to Lahore during the partition, also keeps abreast of all the violence in the city and will hasten to inform you of the gruesome details of a murder or two.  If you’re like me and have inherited a similarly vivid imagination, you will hasten to see if your car door is properly locked. 

[starting off to the land of ‘my favorite things’ with one of my favorite things: an indulgent breakfast]