Vienna is my love-hate relationship. Mariahilf, 1060, that’s my base, my Bebi. Here, I feel at home, nestled between historic buildings and the local scenesters. The streets smell of coffee and Leberkas (meatloaf), the facades shine – yet you’re trudging through city dirt. Vienna is like a slap in the face delivered with a wink – it smarts, but you somehow laugh. This city always has two faces.

In Vienna, you live between imperial decadence and pure madness. The Opera Ball and goulash, the villa on the Höhenstraße and the sausage stand around the corner. You ride the tram past it all and think, “What’s going on here?” But the very question is what makes here unique. You arrive, and there’s no escape. Vienna is a high that grabs you, spins you around, and then spits you out somewhere. Yet, it always remains charming – somehow ...


— This text appears in full in Spike #81/82 – The Post-Cool under the title “Love-Hate Vienna.” Get schick with a hard copy (or an e-paper!) in our online shop —