Third Leg: Vienna to Zagreb

It's a strange practice we have of calling places by names different from those used by the people who live in there. These names are often based on something a Roman or Greek guy decided to call a group of people a couple of thousand years ago. Other times they are just latinized or anglicized or latinized and then anglicized versions of local names. The only advantage to these names is that they are easy to say and that centuries of use have given them a hollow romance. Very often they are so widespread that we have no idea what the local name, which by all logic should be the only name, for a place or people is.

City names are usually anglicized or latinized versions of local names. Copenhagen is germanicized I think. Of course regional names are latinized too.  

Wien > Vienna | München > Munich | Praha > Prague | Købnhavn > Copenhagen

Bayern > Bavaria | Austria > Österreich

Some regional names (especially for more exotic places) are just based on some guy’s name for a people.

Čechy = Bohemia | Hrvatska = Croatia | Crna Gora = Montenegro | Shqipëri = Albania | Hayastan = Armenia |

So earlier this week I was in Munchen, Bayern and Wien, Österreich. It’s the latter location that got me going on this line of thinking. “Austria” sounds like it’s derived from the latin for south: auster. That would make sense, because it’s to the south of most of Germany. Actually it’s a latinization of Österreich, “eastern realm”, because it’s also to the east of most of Germany. This bothers me more than it should.

On Thursday the 10th I took the train from München to Wien, by way of Salzburg. Wien, or Vienna, is an elegant city. It’s got this 19th century cultural refinement that I can only think is most like Paris. I was expecting Austria to be something of a poorer cousin to Germany, however it is just as, if not more, prosperous. Wien is more expensive than Berlin, at least. While I was there I walked and rode the trams and the subway all over. I went out to see the Danube, I was downtown, saw the cathedral, many of the palaces.

On my second day I went to the Albertina art museum (in one of the old palaces) where I saw works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Miro, Kandinsky, Chagall, and many others including an excellent Pointillist exhibition. I also went by the Secession gallery but it was between shows and most of the building was closed. I did see the strange “Beethoven Fresco” by Gustav Klimt in the basement, at least. My last day in town I took the U-bahn and a bus up to Kahlenberg - the hill overlooking town. It’s sides are covered in forest and vineyards, with fresh snow on them. I enjoyed the view from the top, then walked back down, joined by many Austrians taking their Sunday exercise. I picked up my bag from the hostel and headed to the train station, hoping to get an earlier train to Graz, so I could have more daylight to look out the window.

I missed the two o’clock train to Graz, so I got the three o’clock, just an hour before I would have left anyhow. I’m glad I got that train though. The ride south from Vienna on the Semmering Railway was exquisite, the most perfect train ride scenery imaginable. The rain climbed slowly along a steep-sided valley, working up one side and then crossing over great arched stone bridges to the other. The mountainside forests were freshly dusted with snow, while broad-leaf trees mixed in with the pines show off the last of their fall colors. We passed by villages and at least one castle. Each bridge offered a great view of the valley below. It was dark by the time we reached the peak, and I couldn’t see much of the rest of the route in to Graz. Of course, I did take the opportunity to ride the tram into town, hustle around the old center with my bags, and buy one last German Pretzel. The train for Zagreb arrived after just an hour.

I spent less than 24 hours in Zagreb but had a nice experience. The tram was easy to take from the station to my hotel, even at 11pm on a Sunday night. It was full of young people on their way home from a night out. The hotel was elegant and eccentric and faded. I couldn’t help thinking of the movie the Grand Budapest Hotel. The energetic concierge (the day-shift one) showed me a silver medal the hotel had received from an organization chaired by Donald Trump. He let it be known that the other people in at breakfast with me were famous Albanian singers. They did just start singing at one point, after breakfast. They sounded good.

After so many famous European capitals, it was a relief to be in a gritty, modest city. Walking the streets in the morning I couldn’t help thinking of Asuncion. The buildings were elegant but ragged, in need of repair and new paint. Everything seemed to be brown. Even the trees, which were still golden in Austria, were all brown. Zagreb has a charming historic center on the hill, however, with with nearly as many winding streets and charming buildings as Prague, plus a wonderful chapel in a gate tunnel on the road down the hill from the national cathedral. After I found my way to the bus terminal I boarded a bus for Split at three o’clock.