Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Frodo's Summer Place

More from our intrepid correspondents, Gary and Lorraine. This time they provide a great guide to hiking in Norway.

It turns out that Peter Jackson got it wrong. His love of the southern hemisphere kept him from seriously considering the very best location for the Lord of the Rings trilogy, much to his detriment. But if you want to see the place where Frodo and Gandalf, as well as the Vikings would feel most at home, then you must avoid the South Island crowds and come to up-country Norway.

[Remember that Tolkien himself was a big fan. The recently published “Legend of Sigrud & Gudrun”, written before any of the Middle Earth books, retells a classic Norse legend and contains many passages that were later put to use in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.]

Yes, I know—mention a vacation in Norway and we all think of the fjords, and in fact they are every bit as breathtaking as we ever imagined. Our rental house was directly on the Aurlandsfjord, a branch of the biggest fjord in Norway. Hundreds of kilometers from the sea, this saltwater body plays host to schools of dolphins and a wide range of sea life thanks to its tides and depth (in some areas, nearly a mile). We looked across the fjord at a topography that varied from steep cliffs with Norway pines growing impossibly out of cracks, to sheer rock faces with cascading waterfalls originating at the snowfields that were still visible if you looked up.

However, those characteristics also create a friendly environment for those massive floating high rises known as superliners . Despite their 10 storeys of staterooms and roof-mounted waterslides, even these ships are rendered insignificant by the surroundings. And, if you time your fjord-level touring for days when the liners are elsewhere, you can have quite an authentic experience getting to know this world heritage site without the attendant onslaught of hundreds of camera-snapping cruise passengers intent on winning the “number of photos per port” competition.

Indeed, when we come back next year (and we will), we will rent kayaks at the little-known and unadvertised site at Gudvangen on the narrowest fjord in Norway, and put in at the isolated towns and verdant grasslands that line the beaches on both sides. From our observation, two kayaks at a single beach clearly constitute a crowd.

But it is up country – beyond the reach of the passengers who must be back at the dock at 4 for a 6:00 pm sailing – where the crowds truly end and the magic of Middle Earth begins. Let us tell you about one excellent day as an instructive example.

We started the day inauspiciously in Flåm, a cheesy tourist town dedicated to the cruise boats with nothing to recommend it save the Flåm railway, the Flåmsbana. The hard working railway rises 800 meters in 20 km, and so takes you to the Norwegian treeline in a bit over an hour, with magnificent views all the way. It also has the distinction of being a completely self-sufficient, energy-wise (halfway up the mountain we passed the hydroelectric plant built on a year-round waterfall that supplies all the electric power needed for the operation).

Take the first train in the morning at around 8:30, which often leaves before the cruise liners have finished docking (you can buy your tickets the night before, but not, as they proudly proclaim, on the internet). We did so and alighted at Vatnahalsen, near the end of the line, and within seconds we were alone, and very much in Middle Earth. Our chosen trail (a section of what was originally a supply trail for those building the Oslo-Bergen railway a century ago) took us along the shores of three pristine alpine lakes, each at a higher elevation, and emptying into the lower one through a dramatic waterfall. It was so perfect that we imagined them to be a water feature carefully built in the back garden of some upscale giant. We were high enough at the first lake to be above the evergreen line, so we were surrounded by airy birch forests that would have make Galadriel feel right at home. Rather than block the sun, birch seems to amplify it and add subtlety and a certain otherworldly quality.

Like Frodo, a morning of walking always made us a bit peckish, so by the time we had made our ascent to the second lake, our minds began to fill with cravings for second breakfasts, or at least elevenses. Alas, this was a wilderness trail - no guide book, no topo map had so much as mentioned any culinary establishment along the entire trail. Should we raid our lunch stash early, or soldier on until the crack of noon?

Imagine our surprise and delight, then, as we emerged from a section of forest, and there, on the lakeshore ahead of us, was Seltuft, the establishment of one Sue and Anders Fretheim ((the lone white house in the photo above). On the shore of the lake, at the base of a spectacular waterfall (with another dozen visible in the surrounding mountains), the place surely possesses one of the top ten locations of any eating establishment on earth. While sheep grazed contentedly by the barn across the track, the front yard hosted a couple of cyclists consulting maps and fixing a flat at the scattered picnic tables and stone seating. While perhaps not destined for a Michelin star, Seltuft was a Norwegian hiker’s Valhalla, with good hot coffee and what the signs said included “is, vaflen & øl, etc” (ice cream, waffles and ale). Sue fired up the waffle maker for us, and we drank our coffee while Anders answered our questions about fish in the lake (plenty of trout), and told us the sad story of the Norwegian salmon fishery. Almost extinct, he said, thanks to salmon farming, which delivers antibiotic-laden fish to your table while assuring that healthy wild salmon catch the increasingly drug-resistant diseases of their farmed brethren, and die either from them or the pandemic infestations of sea lice, also from the farms. We vowed never to eat farmed salmon again, and we headed back to the trail thinking that Norway was better for thoughtful, curmudgeonly innkeepers like Anders.

From Seltuft, the trail wound up the edge of a narrow canyon, strewn with boulders that had once calved from the cliffs above, which now formed obstacles in the class 5+ rapids below us. The monolith-sized rocks could have easily hidden an army of orcs, so we kept our guard up, just in case. But we were happy to be walking, taking in scenery which alternately reminded us of secluded lakes in New Hampshire or the Swiss Alps, trout streams in Montana, or the heather-covered dells of Scotland. We imagined that in many parts of the world, the breathtaking scenery would have been accompanied by admission fees, river tubing concessions, hot dog stands, gawking photographers and many, many signs declaring that the management was not responsible for you falling off the trail…but none of these were in evidence.

After lunch in a quiet glade above the river, we finished our ascent at the third lake, located incongruously on the far side of that main railway line high in the mountains. The tracks popped out of a tunnel on one side and back into one on the other, as if the planners had wanted to make sure that even their cosseted passengers didn’t miss this valley in their haste to get to Oslo. Finally above the treeline, the lake was surrounded by bald, lichen covered peaks dotted with snow (in August, mind you) and a mind-boggling assortment of cascades, rivulets and waterfalls. The quiet, nonstop roar of the falls was very much a part of the setting.

Returning the way we had come, we were treated to a new set of views down the valleys and canyons as we descended. Tradition, we felt, demanded that we check in with Anders on the way back, but this time to the accompaniment of a glass of a light Spanish red. He asked how far we had gone, and nodded in approval, as if to dismiss those newfangled mountain bikes parked in his yard as some technology fad. Hiking, now that was the Norwegian way.

Frodo, Sam and Gandalf would have approved…and in fact, as we left the inn, I could have sworn that I caught a glimpse of them sitting at a corner table, talking in low tones and planning their next adventure in Norway’s Middle Earth.

What you need to know

1. Norway is green for a reason. Bring wet weather gear, and be prepared for glorious sunshine and 20 degree temperatures, or rain and 10 degrees, even in August. In our experience, the occasional shower did nothing to diminish the grandeur of the surroundings, but rather enhanced it.

2. Aurland (a practical base of operations in the region, with an excellent hotel and a scattering of fjordside cottages for rent) is about 2.5 hours by car, 3.5 hours by train from the Bergen airport. Oslo, with more international connections, is 5-6 hours away. We suggest renting a car to give you the maximum flexibility to get to the trail heads and other points of interest.

3. Norway is expensive, especially restaurants and particularly wine at restaurants. If you are up for it and have the facilities to cook, buy your food at the markets. They are far more reasonable, and the state liquor stores, called the Vinmonopolet, have an excellent and competitively priced selection of bottled and boxed wines from all over the world at reasonable prices. A crisp sauvignon blanc poured from a Nalgene backpacker’s bottle may be inelegant, but it sure does go down well with charcuterie, wholegrain bread, olives and Norwegian Jarlsberg.

4. The country has an obsession with hot food at picnics, which means that you can pick up an A4-sized disposable charcoal grill at any grocery or convenience store. We found them very serviceable, although a bit too bulky to bring on a long hike.

5. The Norwegian Trekking Association (DNT) maintains a massive system of hiking trails along with serviced and unserviced cabins throughout the country, much like the Appalachian Mountain Club does in the US. Their website is quite informative, and their shop in Oslo carries every map and guide you could imagine. If you aren’t going to Oslo, you will find the Tourist Information offices in Aurland or Flåm carry a reasonable set of topographical maps and hiking guides for the area.

6. Norway’s laws concerning the right to roam are even more tilted toward the hiker than the UK’s. As a hiker, you can go just about anywhere you please, across anyone’s land, as long as you do no harm. Not surprising that hiking and cross-country skiing are the two most popular outdoor pastimes in the country.

7. For those with a hankering for an adrenaline rush (or with teenagers with excess energy to burn off), the trail we took is part of a system which can be ridden on a mountain bike. The trail, which descends all the way to Flåm, is identified by Lonely Planet as the steepest bike trail in the country. Truly a white-knuckle ride, and don’t expect to see much of the scenery on the way down – you will be totally focused on staying alive. You can rent bikes at Finse at the top of the run, and return them when you get to Flåm, where they will have their brakes replaced after every use and shipped back up-mountain.



To see a map and slide show of Gary and Lorraine's Vatnahalsen hike, click here.

Saturday, August 01, 2009

Monsoon Mumbai

No Crowds guest reporters, Gary and Lorraine of Trattoria dal Billy fame are at it again. This time we find them in India, as they put it, "an unlikely candidate for No Crowds."


What do John and Yoko, Alfred Hitchcock, Queen Elizabeth, Roberto Rossellini and Hillary Clinton have in common? Wait for it…wait for it…yes! Of course, they have all been guests at the Taj Mahal Palace in Mumbai. Having opened in 1903, the hotel has had plenty of time to see its share of royalty. But how on earth could such a destination qualify for this blog? A classic hotel in a crowded city of a very crowded nation? No crowds?

The answer lies in a single word: "monsoon". The common wisdom is that western and central India are to be avoided in July, when the skies open up and once again assure that this part of the world stays as green and verdant as Dubai (our current address) is brown. But Mumbaikars have a bit of a different attitude towards rain than, let's say, Londoners - they love it! As we watch from our room in the Taj's tower, people gather by the sea wall near the Gates of India, fervently hoping that the record high tides will send a wave crashing over the wall and drench them, which happens on a regular basis. Of course, they're already wet from the rain, but they laugh and cheer just the same.

The Monsoon Taj

But I digress. The point here is, the Taj during the monsoon is two things: uncrowded and amazingly inexpensive. For something close to $200 per night on the weekend special, we were awarded a 12th floor room facing the harbour and overlooking the Gates of India. And the crowds? Well, we were the only people in the gym each morning. We were the only swimmers in the pool most mornings--a classic pool, by the way, 3 metres deep, and with two majestic lions jetting fresh water. For two days we were even the sole occupants in the outdoor Palm Lounge for breakfast. The ceiling fans, wicker and lush greenery everywhere created a wonderful alternative to the antiseptic, air conditioned breakfast buffet which, inexplicably, the other diners had unanimously chosen.

So our conclusions about the Taj at monsoon time are as follows:

1) There is no way in the world they can make a profit in July--this is about making sure the brand's flagship property continues to deliver superior guest experiences, whatever the cost. Example: We had an average of three waiters to ourselves at most meals.

2) Regardless, they do not reduce their staff or cut back on any services in any way. Empty restaurants are open their full hours, and the pool and gym are fully attended throughout the day.

3) Service and hospitality are frankly, beyond belief. A bit more about this…

Having lived in Dubai for the last year or so, we are used to "pseudo-service" - the appearance of good service which is in fact well-meaning members of the south Asian diaspora rigidly following a script laid out by an uncreative and unforgiving food and beverage manager. Plates and settings are whisked away before your last bite clears your teeth, leaving you fighting to keep your silverware for use with the next course.

But it's different at the Taj. Most importantly, everyone seems to be happy. The "good morning, sir", "Good morning, ma'am" is invariably accompanied by a warm smile, a comment about the weather, or perhaps something remembered from the previous encounter--"would you like the table with the view that you enjoyed yesterday?" or "how was your visit to the museum?". Unless it's all an elaborate ruse, these people are very happy with their jobs, and they are truly glad to see you. Once, as we strolled the outdoor gallery past the pool being greeted heartily by hotel staffers standing at parade rest on either side, I had an image of how another, more famous couple might feel walking down a similar hallway--did someone just say, "good morning Mr. President"?

A night at the Zodiac restaurant was a continuation of the incredible experience. If anybody knows how to cook vegetarian, it must be the chefs in this country, so we both chose the "vegetarian degustation" menu, anticipating a sampling of everything Indo-French cuisine could offer without involving animals. When the waiters carefully placed four knives and forks next to our show plates, we knew the evening would be rewarding. The succession of tastes and fusion pairings included not one, but two soufflés--truly a meal to remember. Since we had booked at the laughingly early hour of 8 pm, we had the place to ourselves for the first couple of hours. Well, to ourselves, the entire waitstaff, and a wonderful piano player who played passable smooth jazz and took requests. I know it's corny, but you really have to have "As time goes by" played some time during an evening like this.

Finally, it would be hard to mention this hotel without reference to the attacks of 26/11. The Palace side of the hotel is still mostly closed, undergoing what are delicately referred to as "renovations" by the staff. Entering the hotel now involves scanners and security checks - the most I've seen this side of Riyadh. Armed security guards and police are everywhere as you enter, but then seem to fade into the shadows--I'm sure they are still there, though. But the spirit of the place is unrelentingly upbeat--nobody, they seem to be saying, is going to keep us from creating a world class experience for those of us clever enough to realize that this was the right place at the right time.

Café Leopold

A short walk from the Taj is an experience that is at the same time completely different and exactly the same - Café Leopold. Like the Taj, this establishment was also a target of the terrorists on 26/11, but with that same indomitable spirit, it reopened 2 days later, and has been open ever since. It wears its wounds proudly, with no attempt to hide them. Once we sat next to a wooden column which had two neat holes from a bullet entering and exiting, and another time in front of a shuttered window, much photographed by patrons, with every bullet hole untouched. The staff, who must have lost some colleagues that night, are clearly taking satisfaction in making this place hum the way it always has.

A cross between Rick's Café in Casablanca and the alien biker bar from Star Wars, it is packed with customers of all sorts at all hours (definitely NOT a "no crowds" experience). You can see abayas, saris, turbans, All Blacks tee-shirts and LL Bean walking shorts, and there are always a couple of those fifty-something skinny American guys with grey ponytails who seem to pitch up in the far corners of the world. It serves an eclectic menu that includes hamburgers, nachos, vegetable pakoras, paneer tikka sandwiches, sweet and sour shrimp and the best garlic naan this side of, well, Mumbai. To say it's a good deal doesn't quite capture it. Let's just say that a wonderful multi-Asian meal with a pitcher of Kingfisher (that is, a yard-high column of beer with a spigot at the bottom) set us back exactly 1/20 of our tab at the Zodiac. And the good news (besides the reassuring presence of armed security at all the entrances) is that the recent nonsmoking ordinance in the country means that you can actually see from one side of the place to the other.

So if you're in south Asia and looking to avoid the crowds, just remember…Monsoon Mumbai.

Photo from Terra Trippers photostream on Flickr.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Last Three Feet


“The really crucial link in the international communication chain is the last three feet, which is bridged by personal contact, one person talking to another.”
Edward R. Murrow

Why did those Harvard kids create Facebook? The website talks about giving people the power to share and making the world more connected. Rubbish. Having just completed 6 weeks on a campus right down the road from Harvard, I know the real reason. Mark Zuckerberg had lots of homework. He was trying to avoid his homework - and presto – Facebook.

For the rest of us, procrastination does not lead to such obvious riches. My own case is instructive. Right now, I am sitting on a farm in North Carolina. I am way behind on my thesis. I haven’t written anything for No Crowds in over a month. I have 173 unread emails.

I blame everyone. Is it my fault that my southern family is super time consuming or that my son brought his girlfriend for a visit, that French friends touring the American South parked their RV in the yard? Can I help it that lightening struck the house and fried the broadband? Who can write with so much company and no broadband?

On the other hand, I have spent time with my parents (in their 80s) and my sister and family (from Australia) and helped take care of my sick aunt (getting better). I’ve met my son’s girlfriend (brilliant and fun), watched the Frenchies charm the pants off everyone (no more talk of “cheese eating surrender monkeys” in this town) Maybe I haven’t been procrastinating. Maybe I have been following Edward R Murrow’s advice to focus on the crucial “last three feet”. Maybe this unplugged summer has created something more valuable than Facebook after all.

Photo of Edward R Murrow and Harry S. Truman from Wikipedia

Saturday, June 06, 2009

The Secret Life of Students


I used to wonder about these things but I get it now.

Why you refuse to go on a food plan. It’s all you can eat and it’s cheap.
It really is gross and not cheap either.

Then why can’t you stick to a reasonable food budget? There must be lots of cheap food around college campuses.
Have you seen the price of a cup of coffee lately. You can only eat so many burritos. It all adds up.

Why are there so many “lost key” charges on your bill?
It’s really easy to lose your keys and the University charges are punitive.

Why can't you get along with the campus police?
Because they don't like students. We're their 'bad guys'.

How can your clothes get soooo nasty. Don’t they have machines at your school?
Yes but they are expensive and inconvenient.

I send you things through the mail and you don’t even bother to go to your mailbox.
I can’t open my mailbox because its 1,000 years old, has a fiddly combination that doesn’t work.

What’s this “Incomplete” on your transcript. You have nothing to do but put your head down and finish your work.
So have you seen the syllabus for my course – 8 mini-papers, one big paper, a presentation, a simulation and a final not to mention the reading. Finishing ain’t as easy as it looks.

Why don’t you call?
Because I’m having too much fun.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

University Challenge


What are No Crowds favourite destinations in America? College towns. Think, Berkeley in California and Chapel Hill/Durham in North Carolina - and there are so many more.


A quick survey on Twitter produced this list of favourites:


Cambridge, Massachusetts
Madison, Wisconsin
Charlottesville, Virginia
Princeton, New Jersey
Ann Arbor Michigan
Santa Cruz, California
Providence, Rhode Island
Hanover, New Hampshire

Without much effort, you could put together an awesome trip across America just visiting towns with colleges and universities. They all share characteristics that make for great travel destinations. And you don’t have to be young or a student to enjoy them.

They are all cosmopolitan. They always have some interesting (non-chain) places to stay. They have lots of restaurants at all price points and tons of bars, cafes, bookstores and art house cinemas that stay open late. The campuses are invariably beautiful and filled with arts and sports venues that are open to the public, all at student prices. There’s even pretty good public transportation. It all boils down to big city amenities without the crowds, the cost or the stress.

Are you sold on the idea yet? Well, we are. So much so that for the next six weeks we will be “embedded” at the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University just outside of Boston finishing a degree that was begun 32 years ago. To make the experience more authentic (and because we’re frugal and lazy) we’ll be living in the dorm, something we haven’t done since Jimmy Carter was President, the Red Army Faction was on trial and Apple Computer was incorporated.

OK, it’s been a while but we think it’s very cool that the University is supporting this Ueber-mature student in her late but sincere desire to finish up. This project would also not have been possible without the support of the Editor and family:

“Hey Mom, you’re living in the dorm. Jesus, you’re gonna hate it. Imagine living with 100 people just like me”.

“Hey Sis, don’t you remember that there was always some crazy old lady on campus and you always wondered what she was doing there. Now you ARE the crazy old lady on campus. Have a great time.”

Monday, May 11, 2009

Beam Me Aboard, Mrs Reffle


Stardate 1314.5. As Americans flock into cinemas to see the new Star Wars movie, No Crowds headed for the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea in London to check out the Linley Sambourne House. It’s not exactly the Star Ship Enterprise, but a visit to the perfectly preserved Victorian house at 18 Stafford Terrace is also a voyage of discovery, this time of the 1890s, that is equally loveable. It’s life in London, Jim, but not as we know it.

To visit the family home of the celebrated cartoonist Linley Sambourne, who lived at 18 Stafford Terrace from 1875 to 1919, you need to book a guided tour. Two options exist depending on the day and time. Either you go around the house with a “regular” guide or, on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, you can be a guest of the Sambournes and be taken round the house by a member of the family household. In our case, the guide was the housekeeper, Mrs Reffle, who met us at the door in Victorian dress and all in a tizzy as we were not expected, - even though, as the 21st century website recommended, we booked our tour in advance.

But being a gossipy and cheery soul who clearly enjoyed spilling the beans on the family more than seeing to the housework, Mrs Reffle showed us straight in to dining room and proceeded to regale us with the cost of the house (£2,000) and the wall paper (£70) as compared to her annual salary (£25), plus what went on the other evening at Oscar Wilde’s house and the amount of claret and champagne consumed at the previous night's dinner party. With a raised eye brow, Mrs Reffle pointed out the table upon which Mr Sambourne, who had a penchant for taking ‘artistic’ photographs of naked women, posed his models and the more sedate desk where Mrs Sambourne kept the family accounts.

And so it went as we travelled through the five story house. Thanks to the fact that the Sambourne’s were concerned with presenting a fashionable and artistic home and that virtually nothing has been altered in the place since the 1890s, we spent a perfect hour time travelling through the Victorian universe under the guidance and steady hand of Captain Reffle. The children on our “trip” had a splendid time as did the adults.

London has more than its fair share of excellent time-travelling tourist attractions; Dennis Severs House, the Old Operating Theatre and the Ben Franklin House come immediately to mind, but as good as they are, I have never seen a group of tourists turn themselves over to an experience with quite the same enthusiasm as at Linley Sambourne House. This is tourism with a twist and the combination of the perfectly preserved house and tour guiding theatrics is an absolute winner. Go Saturday and Sunday afternoon and give Mrs Reffle out best.

The Linley Sambourne House
18 Stafford Terrace
London
Tel: 0207 602 3316
Email: museums@rbkc.gov.uk


Photo courtesy of the Linley Sambourne House



Thursday, May 07, 2009

Vienna: A City of Dreams - Old and New


Vienna, city of dreams. Former capital of a vast empire. One of the best stage sets in Europe. The traumatised birthplace of modernism and the eastern outpost of the western world. A magnificent open air museum of charming manners and irresistible pastries. And once upon a time, I lived there.

It was 1976 but it may as well have been 1889. It was hard to tell the difference. I was holed up in a tiny Biedermeier apartment with no heat but thanks to a fortuitous introduction, was taken in hand by a family of minor aristocrats whose old world eccentricities exceeded all expectations. I was besotted, with them and with the Hapsburgs, Gustav Klimt, Sigmund Freud and The Third Man.

So when the Editor suggested that we head for Vienna for three days, I practically wept. I love no city more than Vienna but how would the reality of Vienna 2009 compare to my memories of Vienna 1976?

And typical of Vienna, the city of dreams, we found it exactly the same and utterly transformed, all at the same time. With the reopening of Eastern Europe, the former capital of the Austro-Hungarian Empire got its “backyard” back. The grime of centuries has been blasted off the buildings. The place glistens with purpose and renewed energy. The coffee houses are full of men and women conducting business. Vienna is once again smart and stylish. I never thought I would live to say this: “Vienna is a happening place”.

Hotels

A case in point was the hotel we stayed in on the Herrengasse in the 1st District, close to the Hofburg (the Imperial Palace) where formerly the Hapsburg nobility built their palaces. Today, the SAS Radisson Style is a sassy 72 room boutique hotel with “art nouveau revisited” décor and a popular bar that is well frequented by locals. Sometimes, it may be a bit too happening. On one of the nights when we were there, the whole ground floor was taken over by the Argentine Embassy. These are not folks who like to go to bed early. But it was fun to stay in a place with some attitude and lots of local action and at £86 a night for one of the best addresses in town, plus free wifi and minibar, it represented good value.

Culture

Culturally, things in Vienna have heated up as well. For example and thanks to a tip from one of our twitter buddies @Travelwriticus, we paid a visit to the Karlskirche (St Charles Church) to try out the Panorama Lift. Karlskirche is a magnificent baroque church boasting a spectacular dome covered in frescoes. Following a recent restoration, the scaffolding, elevator and stairs have been left in place so that tourists can zip up by elevator to a platform 32.5 meters/107 feet above the ground and from there, climb more stairs to the top of the dome. Who knew art history could be so terrifying or exhilarating, or that even the most solid looking scaffolding shakes a lot when you walk on it? I loved the sign which said “There may be no more 10 people standing on the platform at one time” although there is no one around to control the number so I spent my air time admiring the magnificent frescoes and counting my fellow viewers. As the actor Christian Bale said after filming Batman on top of the Sears Tower in Chicago, I found it “disturbing but enjoyable”.

Needless to say, there are 1001 cultural things to do in Vienna which we did not get around to but here are two “classic Vienna” things we did do which we really enjoyed:

Belvedere Palace – A spectacular “in-town” palace with lovely gardens and some iconic Austrian art. Klimt, Schiele and Kokoschka are there. So are lots of tour groups but they’re widely dispersed.

Kaisergruft – Under the Kapuziner Church lies the Imperial crypt with the remains of 138 Hapsburgs. It’s the best history lesson in town. Most poignant tomb is that of Franz Josef who lies next to his glamorous assassinated wife, Elizabeth, and his son, Crown Prince Rudolf who committed suicide. The most fabulous award goes to the gargantuan “his and her” sarcophagus for Empress Maria Theresa and Emperor Francis 1.

Shopping

As for shopping in 2009 Vienna, there’s good news and bad. The formerly chic Kartnerstrasse has been colonised by cheap, global chain stores. Even the gilded, E Braun & Co building, once a purveyor of linens to the Imperial household is now an H&M but down the street, chandeliers like the ones at the Metropolitan Opera House and the Kremlin are still on sale at J & L Lobmeyer run by the fifth generation of the same family. (If you’re not in the market for a chandelier, you can visit the small but superb glass museum on the first floor.) Loden Plankl, Vienna’s oldest specialty store for traditional clothing on Michaelerplatz still serves up beautifully made, authentic Austrian clothing and the gourmet grocery emporium, Julius Meinl am Graben, is still the place to go for smart foodie gifts, as is the Naschmarkt, a market that has been operating since the 17th century that sells everything from food from around the world to bric-a-brac.

If you are serious about looking for art and antiques, head for the Dorotheum Auction House on the Dorotheergasse which began its life as the city’s pawn shop in 1707. Great for jewellery, paintings and furniture, it’s a wonderful place to browse, no one bothers you, and many of the objects can be purchased over the counter on the day.

Restaurants and Coffee Houses

And what about the food and those famous Viennese coffee houses? Being devoted to the classic Austrian dishes of boiled beef, goulash and schnitzels, we made pilgrimages to our old stand-bys which haven’t changed a bit. Here are three solid, authentic and inexpensive restaurants where you can sample the local specialties and atmosphere.

Beim Czaak – on the Postgasse, run by the same family since 1928 and a solid, atmospheric place with good food. Excellent tafelspitz (boiled beef)

J.S Smutny – on the Elisabethstrasse, a small street on the other side of the Ring from the Opera House. The Editor's favourite. Maybe the best beer and nicest staff in town. They invited us to watch the Chelsea/Barcelona football match with them and we had a blast.

Gmoakeller – on the Heumarkt behind the Konzert Haus, Best all around combination of food, atmosphere and service. One of the oldest restaurants in Vienna and once a favoured hang-out for Crown Prince Rudolph and his ill-fated paramour, Mary Vetsera.

For coffee houses, again we stuck with classics:

Café Central – Next door to our hotel and exactly as a grand, old Viennese café should be. A favourite of Trotsky, Schnitzler and Freud. Lots of tourists but who cares – it’s worth it.

Café Landtmann – a favourite of journos, politicians and theatregoers, this is the place to see and be seen. By the way, the food, that 30 years ago I could never afford, was excellent.

And all too soon, it was time to leave this amazing city returned to life by a new geo-political purpose. Being the new portal to eastern Europe has been good for Vienna but much to my relief, this town has lost little of its old magic. We’ll be back.

Photo of Karlskirche Panoramalift courtesy of "Verein der Freunde und Gönner der Wiener Karlskirche"