Sometimes you arrive in a city, and it immediately sweeps you off your pleather boots. You get this weird buzz under your skin; it's like you've been there before - maybe in a past life - and all 43 muscles in your face suddenly jump into a frenzy. "Why can't I help but smile?" you ask yourself, "why do I look like a cheese douche, smiling at nothing?" This was the case with Vienna, possibly the most contradictory city in Austria.
On the one hand, you get the modern, chic bustle any major city gives off – pristinely-manicured women, hustling through the U-Bahn, and a cosmopolitan flair exuding similar traits to that of London (or New York, I would imagine). Then...