A seating area of plush couches was arranged around the club’s themed rocky walls. The amount of Westerners inside was uncanny. We could have been in a nightclub in any modern metropolis. But we weren’t; we were in a tiny crevice of an ancient, enchanted city, whose centuries were reflected in every cobble stone.
And in Vienna…
We had ninety short days in Continental Europe. The period was dictated by my Schengen visa (which all South Africans require, unless, like Claire, they possess other, more useful passports) and meant skipping through Austria – with only one full day and two nights in Vienna and two days of hiking in the Alps, sleeping in a caravan near Innsbruck – on our way from Germany’s south to Italy’s north.
We feel qualified to write about neither, and would, besides, have only a dull list of sites to impart. But we feel it worth mentioning that, in the course of our pleasant day’s meander through Vienna, we stumbled on hundreds of two metre high, brightly painted fibreglass bears, filling an enigmatic circle in Karlsplatz. All were facing inwards, arms outstretched.
The United Buddy Bears were, like us, visiting Vienna. Each bear had been painted by an artist in one of the UN’s 192 member states and represented something of their origin: a rather dull wildlife and savannah motif covered South Africa’s bear, a pie eyed and lustful bear represented the Netherlands. Come to promote “tolerance and international understanding,” they were sold at auction in aid of UNICEF, the UN’s Children’s Fund. By November, €1 315 000 had been raised.
The unusual exhibit was more compelling than any museum I’ve entered: adults mingled slowly, smiling at the names of unknown countries, children touched the bears, giggling. Claire and I took photos of those that represented every country we, at that stage, thought we’d visit. You can click on the image above, or here, to see them. Only their stomachs are visible in the thumbnails, clicking through will display the entire bear.
I cannot BEAR it,your travels are making me so jealous, thank you so much for a great article,for a wonderful city, Now feel like passing on cow collecting,and starting up with bears,dont you think they would good on the roof of the boat,and I know that all the cities you have visited,I have been to all so far,but now after your articles,want to visit once again
Hi Claire and Iain. This is Richard Evans, one of the contented customers from the ‘Spotted Cow’ where your epic adventure sort of started. Spent time reading your blog today – what a great time you are having. Thought you would like to know that we welcomed in the New Year with great style at the ‘Cow’ last night/this morning, with all the regulars and much pandemonium. Happy New Year to you both!
[...] I fell behind, to take photos, Claire chatted, and Mohammed led. Garbage was smouldering in isolated piles, choking the medieval streets. From flat-topped carts, men in turbans and galabiyyas – long robes which extend from neck to ankle, and cuff – sold coal and cucumber, cauliflower and metal scrap. After pausing for trade, they whipped flap-eared donkeys and hissed, to move the animals and, with them, their goods. Boys carried baskets of still hot, balloon-like bread on their heads, and set them down seemingly at random, to sell to passers-by. In filthy rooms with blackened floors, men drank tea – Egyptian shai – and fed coal to clattering machines. [...]
[...] It was a crisp, cool morning, and Star Crossed Lovers café – where we had drunk our last chai the night before – was already awake. Wooden tree stumps were laid out in the spreading sunlight and the café’s dwarfish owner, wild curls on his balding head, noticed us immediately. [...]