It's been years since I've visited Vienna. Like a little kid in a candy store, I can't wait to look around and see what I can find. Theo, my gangster cat, is a bit less enthusiastic. Because Vienna is a hustling, bustling place, chocked full of ancient buildings and, perhaps, too many people, he seems intimidated.
I promise him--we'll find something you like. Trust me.
Eagerly I snap photos as we head toward the main part of the city. We pass our first church affectionately called the Mexican Church:
We pass the graffiti building (or at least that's what I call it):
We cross a bridge over a Danube River tributary:
In Vienna proper now, we're on foot, within the Ringstrasse, an elegant 2.5 mile boulevard which encircles the old town. In 1857 this boulevard replaced Vienna's ancient city walls. We cross beneath an old but magnificent arch. Now I'm beginning to feel Vienna's heart:
All of that leads us to our first glimpse of St. Stephan's Church, which took hundreds of years to build from 1137 when they first broke ground to 1578 when it was finally completed. This mixture of both Romanesque and Gothic architecture stands on the ruins of two earlier churches. Over the years it has been the scene of numerous weddings including Joseph Haydn and Mozart.
Explaining that idea to Theo, however, is a waste of time. He'll watch something on the History Channel (especially if there are animals in the show) . . . but outside the church he finally looks interested.
Horses. A white wheeled horse drawn carriage to be precise that is attached to four gorgeous white horses. For tourists who like to imagine that they're back in Mozart's time when people still rode horses and took carriage rides--not for fun but to get somewhere.
Theo looks up at me expectantly. The driver, who was there one minute ago, is gone for some of that excellent Vienna coffee, so this is our chance, I think.
"Behave yourself," I caution automatically although how much danger can Theo actually be in when the horses are tied to their carriage.
Theo approaches cautiously and keeps his distance, at first. But then he can't resist the lure of his fellow animal. His nose twitches. He's sniffing from afar (which will never be good enough).
I know Theo. Sure enough, before I can step in between him and the lovely white horse he's fixated on, Theo is there, standing near the horse's leg, sniffing away. The horse glances down as much as he can, despite the blinders that surround his face.
Who's that? he's probably wondering. Or has he figured everything out already because he can smell Theo.
Suddenly, I imagine everything going to hell. What if the horse decides he doesn't want some American cat sniffing him, and now even cozying up to him? What if he lifts one of his legs and uses that gigantic hoof to try and kick Theo away? I half imagine Theo flying through the air, like in some cartoon and ending up where--on top of St. Stephan's.
I reign in my imagination and dread. The encounter is a peaceful one.
For me, it's a lesson in how the world can be perceived so differently by one person to the next, one person to a cat. Theo sees the horse. I see St. Stephan's, in all its historical magnificence.
