Shifts

At first subtle, then in your face. An end of year look at changing directions.

from the Chagall exhibit at the Albertina Museum in Vienna

I would really like to end on a positive note. Really. But lately it feels like everything is working in the other direction.

It feels like our city has been taken over by throngs of first-time visitors in need of a “how to” guide on how to visit an old European city and use public transportation without driving the locals mad (main ideas: never stand on the left side of an escalator, it is for walking only, and when the bus/tram/subway comes to a stop and you are not getting out but blocking the door, you need to make way to let others on/off). Today is Sunday, which means that our grocery stores are closed, except for a select handful permitted by the authorities to open their doors on the day of the lord (irony). I boldly invited friends visiting from out of town to come to my place for dinner tonight, and I boldly assumed I would be able to buy ingredients to make dinner for eight people on a Sunday. I braved the crowds and headed to a supermarket in the very center of Vienna, the only one open in the center on Sundays, only to discover that only certain sections were open. You could buy all the alcohol you could ever wish to consume, and then some, but fresh meat, pasta, sauces, flour, etc — an entire ingredient floor — was closed under government orders. You literally cannot make such madness up. I initially scratched the idea I had in my head to make a meat-based dish, and thought I would make homemade pizza instead, but even the yeast sachets and tomato sauce were banned from Sunday sales. I gave up and told my friends we would have to either order in or go out. We managed to secure a table at a pizzeria for 9:15pm. I hope the restaurant owners and their cronies in local government are happy. I am annoyed. You try and do something smart (cook at home for a crowd) and it backfires. I don’t want to have to plan everything always ahead of time. There are plenty of people who would have no problem to work on Sundays. The arguments have been repeated over and over for years…and yet, it is what it is.

This morning I went for a swim at a local pool adjacent to my apartment. It is a small hotel pool, but big enough for laps, and they let us pay a monthly membership (comparable in price to that of a modest gym) to use the pool. I find the whole arrangement massively convenient, as the commute is all of 10 meters, and this means I go more often. Today I showed up mid-morning, ready to brave more tourists as it is the weekend. I was shocked when I opened the door to the teeny-tiny ladies’ changing room to see two women speaking Dutch with about five enormous suitcases between the two of them, who then proceeded to spend the next hour (because they were still there when I finished) showering in the tiny space of a large cubicle with all of their luggage strewn all over the floor. Now I understand their room probably wasn’t ready, but really, this felt so unhygienic and also it took up nearly all the space we were provided to shower and change in. It felt…invasive. I went to throw my wet towel in the towel bin and it was covered with one of the women’s coats. I just shook my head. They didn’t even say sorry for having overrun the place. A few days ago, after my swim, I was enjoying the (also tiny) adjacent, co-ed sauna alone when a little, stout man walked in, carrying his towel in his hand, stark naked, dragging his girlfriend (in a swimsuit, looking very uncomfortable) by the hand. I did what I always do in such situations, and immediately grabbed my towel, and left the sauna. A friend in Austria tried to explain to me once why swimming in your swimsuit is the norm (obviously) but going to a sauna in anything other than your birthday suit is “unhygienic” (no idea why), and that we should all be comfortable with tiny shared co-ed spaces for sweating it out at high temperatures. I just give up at that point. There is nothing relaxing, I imagine, for many of us to be sitting naked amongst strangers in a tiny enclosed very hot space trying to sweat holiday toxins out of our systems.

It is such a strange time here in Vienna as the locals who can afford it have taken to the ski slopes, but the city is not empty, rather it has been invaded by every possible language group — all the tourists are back, and then some. We don’t have the infrastructure in place to cope with the massive crowds, and the business laws here make it difficult, which means you will not see new businesses popping up like mushrooms to fill the gaps in demand. The world’s eyes will be on Vienna on January 1 when the famous New Year’s concert is once again held here. Tickets are very hard to come by and reportedly resell for thousands of Euros each. Tickets go on sale nearly a year in advance via a lottery.

I am not a follower of classical music, but even I was annoyed when I read the headline, proclaiming it to be some kind of “progress” that this year they will play a composition by a female composer, while in the history of the concert it has never ever been conducted by a woman. I even found an old petition from 2022 confirming this fact. This year, the New Year’s concert will be broadcast around the world and conducted by an 83 year old white man for his seventh time. I dared share my thoughts about this on social media — with the caveat that I am no music expert, and I was told by one person from the industry that I am uneducated and therefore my opinion is…

…I thought the whole point of an opinion is that everyone can have one, irregardless if we are experts in the subject matter, or not.

Anyway.

It is a strange time to be alive. There are very huge problems across our planet which no one seems to be dealing with. There are masses of people who are struggling with meeting their basic needs. And there are a select few with more money than they know what to do with who are stumbling over themselves in an effort to fight each other to spend it on scarce items and experiences offering a dopamine rush. I follow a young woman on TikTok who literally hired a private shopper to acquire a pair of Chanel boots for her in a Dubai mall because she was one day too late to ask the New York store and was devastated to learn they were no longer available. Reader, they look like…every other pair of black, leather knee high boots on the market. Really.

Walmart came up with a dupe for a Birkin bag and it sold out. That feels like a metaphor for everything wrong with our society now. The one percent are killing themselves to get on the elusive list to be able to buy a five or six-figure handbag by a French company selling leather goods (something as old as time) with a genius marketing team which managed to turn something old, boring and “artisan” (cringe) into the most exclusive virtual nightclub guest list in the world. The alpha males are killing themselves to earn the right to be on that list so as to have a woman on their arms carrying the coveted, deficit accessory. One wealthy individual told me recently you have to spend something like a million Euros to be considered for the elusive insider list. A million Euros on accessories no one needs? But then if you have a billion, a million must really feel like nothing.

It is all so messed up.

So of course the Walmart bag sold out instantly too, because of course “normal” people would also happily like a tiny feeling of joy for $78 if taking a photo for Instagram with a similar-shaped bag gives them that rush.

And then I open up my Telegram chat for Ukrainians here in Austria and see some of them, those who did not manage to find work and are still trying to scrape by on the very small government payments available to them, are discussing where to pick up a Christmas tree for free, as many would like to celebrate with a tree at New Year’s, and if you scout out the Christmas tree disposal places around Vienna, you might be able to drag home a still-decent real tree free of charge in time for the 31st.

It is really hard to get your head around all of it. And there is so much noise. Meanwhile I know a woman younger than me who has a very fast growing, cancerous tumour, and we are still waiting on an operation date. She has Austrian health insurance. This is how it works. Holidays, a system with more patients than capacity, you sit and wait. And I don’t know how to help her other than asking the receptionist over and over if the doctors have been able to find an earlier date than the end of January. And of course the receptionist, irritated to have to work on December 27th when many others had the one work day in between holidays off, was not really interested at all in helping find out. She must hear this every day. You become numb.

In short, no one needs a Birkin, but what everyone needs, ideally, is a plan B for when you or a loved one needs emergency surgery. I keep wondering if you went private if you would get operated on next week. I don’t know, we didn’t ask, because it isn’t an option, but it must be so scary to go around waiting and waiting and knowing that every day counts and your fate is totally out of your control.

I wish I could say something insightful about the war in Ukraine, but I have no insights. I really hope that in 2025 there will be some kind of resolution to end the dying. We have seen too much death and dying in this world, while others run around consuming as if the world is coming to an end. And yet, the consumption doesn’t really seem to make people that much happier. It is a temporary buzz. But I think lasting connections give us far more happiness, and they have become even more elusive. Lonely people can veg out to one minute long videos on their phones. Those producing entertaining videos have at least figured out how to monetise their creativity (good for them), but it all feels rather empty. I wonder if other eras felt like this. The roaring 20s, perhaps? There seems to be so much pain alongside so much hedonism. And then there are pockets of light — the youthful demonstrators in Georgia and Serbia, but my old soul doesn’t think they will be successful. I hope I am wrong. There are just too many forces working together on a higher level (and by higher I mean the combination of power and money) for street protests to have any effect these days. Our democracies are that in name only, for the most part.

Looking towards 2025, many are watching Trump and Musk, to see which direction America will take. Europe still doesn’t have a solid plan to deal with Putin. I saw Chinese tourists today laughing their heads off inside the Sunday hours grocery store in the heart of Vienna when they spotted wine made in China (yes, by an Austrian entrepreneur) being sold here for nearly €40 a bottle. Asia and America are moving forward, independently and in fierce competition, and sometimes I wonder if all Europe will be left holding are Christmas markets, castles, art museums, and gorgeous beaches. If Europe will become a little Disneyland for adults who make their money elsewhere. Old Europe will be fine, they have carved out some alpine spots for themselves and some islands for the summers. But everyone else? I really don’t know. I have no idea what to tell my kids will be the profession of the future, or where they should live, being in the privileged position of actually having a choice in the matter.

Maybe it is my age, but it feels like an era of no leadership, no direction, and running on inertia with everyone chasing little hits of joy at whatever price point their budget can afford. Which makes complete sense because whenever you hear an interview with an elderly person, they talk about their regrets in terms of the risks they did not take. He or she who does not take risks will never know how things might have turned out. And yes playing with fire sometimes means getting burned. We humans know this and yet we still try to touch the flames occasionally. To feel alive.

I would like to go into 2025 with at least a list of goals. I rarely do this, but this year it feels appropriate. It feels like the adults in the room don’t have a list of any kind, perhaps that means that more falls on our own individual shoulders to ask ourselves the big questions of what is most important to us and how can we get there, remembering to stop and enjoy the journey along the way. I love the journey more than anything. I love every moment of going to an airport, boarding a plane, flying through the sky, landing. I love being in motion from A to B. I love long car rides. Sometimes, it isn’t possible, as much as you crave an escape.

I recently opened Skyscanner and had to accept that the era of €100 round trip flight tickets and see a new city is over. We had a nice little honeymoon period post-covid. Now, judging from the streets of Vienna this holiday season, everyone is going everywhere. We have to be smarter about how and when we travel. But the experience of discovering something new (and no I do not mean copying the shot you saw on Instagram — I nearly fell over someone taking a photo in front of that red bow across from the Opera today) is available to each of us on any budget. It is a mindset. There will be good and bad days. We should encourage ourselves on the good ones, and be kind to ourselves on the bad ones. It is not easy. I am working on this myself.

My single piece of advice is as old as time: seize every moment because you never know what tomorrow may bring. And believe that tomorrow may bring something really, really good. I think the people most unhappy are those who have lost that belief along the way. I know how hard it is to hold onto a belief in something you cannot touch or feel and have no proof to justify your theory. But those who try sometimes succeed, and those who do not will never know. The not knowing is perhaps the worst outcome.

Apologies this was more rambling and philosophical than I intended. It is where my head is at the moment. Wishing you all a happy new year! I will try from January to return to more news-based commentary and analysis.