We are approaching Vienna, a city to which I’ve never physically been but one which I, like many on this earth, believe I know well because of its continuous celebration in movies, in literature, and by song. Vienna is one of those cities that belong to the world, not just to its country of location. These are cities informed and ennobled by their unique local cultures, cities blessed with a physical beauty that transcends the common mud and filth of their alleyways, cities to which all humanity claims – nay, demands – citizenship.
The honor roll includes Paris, Rome, London, New York, Singapore, Hong Kong, San Francisco, Budapest, and perhaps others. The name of each city on the list immediately conjures up a romanticized mental image for those unfortunate enough not to have visited it, evokes an impression of great physical beauty, produces a vision of human life flowering under the aegis of a singular culture so inescapably, inextricably associated with certain of its physical attributes as to be essential to its fame. What would be Vienna be without the magnificent Danube or without a wonderful waltz by Johann Strauss, for example? Both must have come together for Vienna to have flowered in humanity’s collective imagination, to have earned it a place on the list.
I have been fortunate enough to see and enjoy several of these cities and look forward to seeing and enjoying two more on this trip – Vienna and Budapest. I have a visual as well as a mental impression of each, and it will be a delight to compare my expectations with their respective realities. For no place is truly equal to a traveler’s romanticized expectation. I am as certain as I can be, for example, that the Taj Mahal has blemishes the camera overlooks. How could it not after so long a time on this earth? But these blemishes, whatever they may be, are part of the heritage of each such place, are reflections of its great age, are badges of honor in the fight against the decay that began at the very moment of its creation. So much so in fact, that rather than detracting from the renown of such a place, the blemishes blend into its reality to render it a truly human place as well as a romanticized ideal.
For these places are the greatest achievements of humanity, places where the human hand has wrought beauty through hard, grinding, constant, aching work, where backdrops of great natural beauty have been augmented by substantial human constructions, where human genius has created a physical setting so robust that it is impressively, undeniably real while simultaneously a mere stage setting composed of dreams, spit, elbow grease, illusions, and baling wire combined for magical effect.
So it is with anticipation that I await Vienna. We are one stop away and will be there by evening, an evening we will spend listening to Viennese waltzes and classical music after having gained entry to the city via the Danube. For our tickets are in hand and the ship is underway. Our imagined romances and Vienna’s stark realities are on a collision course.
