It is entirely Anthony Bourdain's fault that I saw Vienna in black and white. The strong presence of "The Third Man" - a gorgeous film noir set in post-World War II Vienna - throughout his episode in the city intrigued me enough to watch the film in preparation for the trip Elger and I had booked for the week of his birthday. While this week in the city was the hottest ever in its history and was full of scorching sunlight, Elger and I sought shadowy refuge in the Belvedere awed by Klimt, on the Riesenrad with sweaty palms (and the people really did look like ants), in the tunnel-like underside of the Hundertwasserhaus, and in our poshly Viennese room at the Grand Hotel Mercure Biedermeier (our second stay in an Accor hotel - our first time was last October in Berlin). It was so hot that it looked as if the ice cream cake buildings would melt under the relentlessly blue sky, and we were immensely grateful for the U-Bahn when the shade disappeared from the streets in the afternoon. We had magical German (Schneider-Weisse) beers and wiener schnitzel of epic proportions at Rochus and the most refreshing iced tea outside of the South at the Museum Quartier cantine. Even with a week of days of very deliberately full schedules (which admittedly should have included the heat as an event unto itself), we saw so little of this densely historic city that I am already finding myself dreaming up a wishlist of places we have to see when we go back. Ideally, a return trip will be much, much colder - the Christmas market sounds dreamy right about now. For now, here is how I saw Vienna:
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