Wien

Vienna was bulging at its refined and delicately sewn seams with the stuff quintessential European cities are made of. So much so that down many a winding arcade, I felt like I’d walked onto the set of a period piece for a remake of one of Jane Austin’s novels (yes, I know they did not take place in Vienna). Compared to my narrow and cramped Istanbul (which, on rainy days, feels like all 17 million inhabitants are huddling under the same umbrella) Vienna felt towering and expansive. Even the sky looked more majestic. There was space. There were horse-drawn carriages with men in top-hats at the wheel. There was schnitzel and free coupons to wienerwurld restaurant, real coffee and not just Nescafe, and the best sushi I’ve had in months served by a cute old Japanese man whose hearty danke sheins were incongruous with his miniature body.

In many ways, Vienna is like any other city touched by the magic wand of globalization. Small designer shops are permanently transformed into Gucci and Fendi outlets with clothes out of my price range gracing the front window mannequins, and Starbucks will not turn back into a quaint Viennese café at midnight. I wondered what dressmakers or cobblers filled the storefronts before Dolce & Gabbana and Zara and Lacoste came in. These are the signposts that read Here and Now in any language; the irony is you know you’ve entered tourist territory when you see the ubiquitous designer brand name stores that line poshshoppingstreet, everycity, the world. How comforting that one can experience a completely different country without leaving the consumer familiarity of home.

The metro was full of half-baked weirdos, leathery old women prayed at church doors, vultures pawning pseudo-authentic opera tickets who tried to attack the tourists while their bodies were still warm from travel right off the metro.

It always amazes me when I make it back in one piece. There are countless things could go wrong over the course of any trip. The missed metro stops and mediocre half priced opera are merely incidental. This is what travel is made of I suppose.