"Welcome to Hihi-Land!" — You might think you've landed on the island of the blessed. The relaxed tranquility that one encounters is only rarely interrupted by deckchairs cracking to the rhythm, on which buoyant bodies rub dry. If the wind weren't stubbornly catching on soggy pages, you'd think time stood still here. But the mood is deceptive. Just as hastily as reverently you try to approach the faces behind the card fan, you collect the rebuff just as quickly and directly in typical Viennese fashion. There is no trace of the silver platter. You have to go on to the next coffee chat and have no time for vanity.
But the sobering mind recovers quickly from the quickly sketched impression of that idyll where simple pragmatism and charming individuality seem to have found a common home.
An initial (admittedly exaggerated) ‘Sneak off!’ resulted in a few sore bottoms (from hours of eye-to-eye conversations), dozens of dried out glasses of soda (no alcohol at work, they say) and of course a budget-endangering number of drinks Film rolls of great memories. Be welcomed by the cabin-owners of the Viennese bathing-island Gänsehäufel.