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Michael travels with his good friends - Eddy, Mercedes, and Jane in October 1991  

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t’s   August   1991,   and   I   am   living   in   London.   Massive   changes   are   occurring   in  Amex,  and  a  considerate  boss,  Juergen  offers  me  a  paid  sabbatical  leave.    

 “Get  away  for  six  months.  Go  home  to  Australia  if  you  have  to  and  have  your  other  corneal  graft  taken  care  of.  When  you  can  read  again  properly,  come  back  and  we’ll  talk  about  the  future”,  he  says.    

 The  free  time  afforded  me  by  this  sabbatical  allows  me  the  luxury  of  some  personal  introspection.    Everyone  knows   I’m  a  mad,   ‘driven’  personality,  but   this   is  a  great  opportunity  to  try  and  moderate  that  behaviour.    I’m  going  ‘all  out’  to  address  not  only   the  work/play  balance,  but  also   to   take  advantage  of   the   travel  and  cultural  opportunities  open  to  me  living  in  Europe.    

   An   extended  weekend   in   Vienna  with  my   good   friends   the  Bühlmanns   and   Jane   at   the   end   of  October  is  a  great  start.  And  we’ll  do  it  in  style!    For  once  we  decide  not  to  bring  travellers  cheques  and  simply  ‘do  it’  as  one  would  always  like  to  –   ‘charge  everything’!    Eddy   is   in-­‐charge.  And  he’s  delegated   the  arrangements   to  our  General  Manager   for   Austria,   the   affable   Herr   Konsul   (of   France)   Guenther   Klimitsch.   So   we   have   no  doubt  about  the  choice  of  hotel,   the  standard  of  rooms,  and  gifts  of  chocolates  and  champagne  waiting   for   us   on   check-­‐in.   But,   on   arrival   at   Vienna   airport   late   on   Friday   evening,   Guenther  surprises  us  with  a  chauffeured,  brand-­‐new  Mercedes  limousine,  that’s  to  remain  at  our  disposal  for  the  entire  weekend?    On  Saturday  morning,  after  a  leisurely  buffet  breakfast  –  European  style  with  muesli,  fruits,  ham  and  cheese  –  we  drive  out  through  the  Vienna  Woods  until  we  reached  the  Danube.    It’s  a  sunny  and   brisk   autumn   day   and   we  make   our   first   stop   to   walk   around   the   ancient   little   town   of  Krems.    It’s  the  Austrian  National  Day  Holiday  and  the  only  activity  at  all  is  a  wedding  in  the  local  church.    We  sit  and  watch  and  get  about  finding  a  coffee  to  get  warm.    We  lunch  in  Durnstein  in  the  dining  room  of  a  converted  monastery,  right  below  the  ruins  of  the  castle   where   King   Richard   the   Lionheart   was   imprisoned   as   he   journeyed   home   from   the  Crusades  nearly  a  thousand  years  ago.  The  views  out  over  the  Danube  and  the  vineyards  in  their  autumnal  colours  are  a  picture.      

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Durnstein   -­‐   the   views   out   over   the   Danube   and   the   vineyards   in   their   autumnal   colours   are   a  picture.      

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 In  between   the   liver  dumpling   soup   and   stroganoff,  we   savour   Jane’s   stories   of  Richard  being  saved  through  the  efforts  of  Blondel,  his  minstrel  boy  –  ‘he  returned  to  an  England  bankrupted  by  his   squandering  on   the  Crusades,  died  and  was  succeeded   to   the   throne  by  his  brother   John,  who  signed  the  Magna  Carta,  changing  the  role  of  the  monarchy  to  ‘first  among  equals’.     (It’s  a  bonus  having  an  historian  for  a  travelling  companion,  Jane!  Thank  you.)    Continuing  along  Austria’s  ‘Romantic  Road’  the  sun  keeps  its  strength  just  long  enough  for  us  to  visit  the  magnificent  baroque  Benedictine  Abbey  at  Melk.    It’s  an  imposing  yellow  in  colour  and  is  situated  in  a  commanding  position  on  a  hill  looking  out  over  the  surrounding  rural  areas  and  the  Danube.  

 Culture      The  next  twenty-­‐four  hours  is  as  demanding  as  it  is  exhilarating  –  Guenther  has  arranged  tickets  for  the  Opera,  the  Vienna  Boys  Choir  and  the  Spanish  Riding  School.        From  the  cultural  perspective   this  weekend,  Beethoven  wins  out  over  Mozart   (even   if   it   is  his  200th  anniversary).      Mozart  wrote  a  few  too  many  notes  in  the  ‘Magic  Flute’  for  my  liking.    The  opera  is  too  long,  and  frequent  asides  in  the  German  language  don’t  help  my  appreciation.    The  atmosphere  in  the  6-­‐tiered  Vienna  Opera  House  lives  up  to  my  expectations.    We  have  excellent  seats  on  the  main  floor  under  the  crystal  chandelier  (later  to  find  out  Guenther  paid  $200  each  for   them).     I’m  surprised,  however,  when   I   realise   that  each  of   the   tiers  encircling  us  on   three  sides  has  only  one  row  of  chairs!          

The  Benedictine  Abbey  at  Melk  

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 On  Sunday  morning  we  go  to  hear  the  Vienna  Boys  Choir  in  the  Court  Chapel  of  the  Habsburgs.    They  sing  Beethoven’s  Mass   in  C  Minor  with   full  orchestral  accompaniment.     It   is  a  powerfully  beautiful  experience  with  contrasting  and  completely  disarming  moments.    My  senses  are  lulled    into   a   wonderful   tranquillity   with   strings   and   voices   of   lullaby   softness,   occasionally   to   be  encroached   upon   by   crescendo   of   wind   instruments   and   rising   volume   of   soprano   and   tenor  voices.      We  have  ten  minutes  to  ‘hot-­‐foot’  it  over  to  the  Spanish  Riding  School  and  find  our  seats  in  the  gallery.    The  whole  performance   is  done   to  music  of   the  great   composers.     I   feel   the   Japanese  should  be  invited  to  install  a  new  sound  system  (or  after  my  experience  in  the  chapel  earlier  in  the  morning,  the  orchestra  could  be  brought  across  to  perform  ‘live’).      

 Eddy,  Jane  and  Michael  along  Austria’s  Romantic  Road  

Mercedes,  Jane  and  Michael  –  ready  for  the  Vienna  Opera  

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   Local  Cuisine    Late  evening  supper  at   the  smart  Café  Korso,  and  Sunday   lunch  at   the  Hotel  Sacher  presents  a  challenge  to  ‘digest’  so  much  in  such  a  short  time.    But  we  do!    I  wake  with  puffy  eyes  on  Sunday,  but  a  little  shut-­‐eye  in  the  afternoon  while  others  go  to  the  Schönbrunn  Palace  readies  me  for  the  evening  in  a  home-­‐style  restaurant  in  the  suburbs.    Did  you  now  there  were  twenty-­‐four  types  of  meat  on  a  cow,  and  that  the  most  delectable  piece  was  to  be  found  around  the  shoulder?    The  Austrians  and  Swiss  swear  by  it!    ‘Tafelspitz’  is  boiled  meat,  and  served  with  an  apple/horseradish  combination  sauce  and  hash-­‐brown  potatoes.    We  all   choose   this   national   delicacy   in   the   traditional   wood-­‐panelled   dining   room   of   the   Hotel  Sacher   (of  Sacher   torte   fame)   for  Sunday   lunch.     It’s  good;   it’s   filling.    But   it’s   still  boiled  beef!    (My  New  York  butcher  tells  me  it’s  the  cut  he  sells  for  ‘London  Broil’).    The  Austrian  white  wines  are  very  good,  but  the  new  experience  comes  with  tasting  the  ‘sturm’  at   the   Sunday   evening   suburban   retreat.     At  Mercedes’   behest,   the   owner   delivers   a   carafe   of  what  looks  like  cloudy  white  apple  juice.    It  is  from  grapes  nonetheless,  but  two  weeks  after  the  yeast  had  been  added  and  a  bubbling  chemical  change  to  alcohol  has  commenced.        Salzburg    Being  on  sabbatical  gives  me  the   freedom  to  wave  my   friends  off  back   to  work  and  take  some  extra  time  to  visit  Salzburg  –  a  place  I’ve  wanted  to  see  for  many  years.    I  stay  in  a  hotel  right  on  the  river  with  a  wonderful  view  of  the  Castle  and  Old  City  from  my  window.    Floodlights  through  the  mist  by  night  and  a  guided  walking  tour  by  day  really  bring  the  whole  place  to  life.  

 Salzburg   is   a   city,   which   was   ruled   over   by   wealthy   Prince-­‐Archbishops   until   the   early  nineteenth  century  when  Napoleon  stopped  all   that.     I  attend  a  concert   in   the  Schloss  Mirabel,  which  was  built  by  one  of  the  Prince-­‐Archbishops  of  the  Florence  Medici  family  for  his  mistress  

Salzburg  

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(and  mother  of  his  twelve  children).    I  put  all  this  behind  me  as  I  sit  and  enjoy  a  piano  recital  in  the  Marble  Hall  where  Mozart’s  father  Leopold  had  brought  him  to  listen  so  many  years  ago.    The   lakes   and  mountains   around   Salzburg   are   as   spectacular   as   I   remember   in   ‘The   Sound  of  Music’  –  and  so  peaceful.    A  full  day’s  drive  with  only  the  cows  for  company  tops  off  five  really  wonderful  days.  

   

Michael  at  Strauss  Memorial  in  Vienna  

Eddy,  Mercedes  and  Jane  in  Vienna  –  probably  just  before  we    footsore  tourists  visited  the  famous  Vienna  Coffee  House  Griensteidl  for  a  coffee  and  a  chance  to  unwind