Flying into Vienna

After attending Saturday Vigil Mass and waking at 3:30 a.m. for this Sunday flight, my 24 hours in Vienna started. I arrived just as the morning sun was struggling through the clouds. The day was gray, but the rolling hills of Austria still gleamed like polished emeralds. Even from the airplane window, I could sense the beauty of the land below—home of Maria von Trapp, the Habsburgs, and thousands of years of history. I’d never been to Austria before, and with only a 22-hour layover, I was determined to make the most of it.

Getting into the city is easy—a direct train from the airport takes you right to Vienna’s center, nestled along the banks of the Wien River. After dropping my limited luggage at the hotel, I set off to explore.

Walking tour

In my opinion, the best way to experience a city is on foot (with the help of a walking tour). I crossed the Wien River and wandered through the gardens of Stadtpark, pausing to watch a heron in a quiet pond. A light drizzle fell, but I had come prepared with a jacket and umbrella. Turning out of the park, I meandered down one of Vienna’s many lanes. Even in the rain, the city was stunning—and blissfully uncrowded in this part of town, allowing me to admire the architecture undisturbed.

I passed the Staatsoper, Vienna’s famed opera house and home to the state ballet, then crossed to the Albertina, a celebrated museum with a statue of Archduke Albrecht—its former owner—standing guard. The tall, regal buildings were adorned with intricate details, and the rain made them glisten as if freshly polished. I stood still for a moment, just taking it all in.

Cafe and breakfast

For breakfast, I stopped at the iconic Café Mozart. Just steps from the opera house, it has been a favorite of actors, ballerinas, and writers since opening in 1794, just three years after Mozart’s death. After World War II, the café became a frequent haunt of Graham Greene, Carol Reed, Orson Welles, and Joseph Cotten, who wrote much of The Third Man over its coffee.

Café Mozart embodies the Viennese coffeehouse tradition—elegant surroundings, delicious coffee and cake, and a restful place to escape the rain. I’ve heard it’s often crowded, but I managed to snag a table, sip my coffee, and people-watch. My breakfast—a take on eggs Benedict—caught the eye of some elderly Germans at the next table. They seemed friendly, though my limited German kept me guessing as to what they said.

Augustinerkirche and the library

Next, I visited the Augustinerkirche and the famous Prunksaal, Vienna’s grand municipal library. Entering quietly through a side door of the Augustinerkirche, I found myself in the middle of a beautiful Mass. Still an active Catholic church, the Augustinerkirche was once the court church of the Habsburgs. Imperial weddings held here include those of Emperor Franz Joseph, Empress Maria Theresa, Napoleon Bonaparte, and King Louis XVI of France.

After a brief prayer, I crossed the rain-slicked square to the adjacent building: the Austrian National Library. I’d heard that the Prunksaal was one of the most beautiful libraries in the world—and the inspiration for Beauty and the Beast’s library. It did not disappoint.

Multiple stories of ancient books, rolling ladders, and even a secret passage had this bookworm in awe. The ceiling, painted in glorious detail, stole much of my attention. I spent long minutes staring upward, jaw agape, soaking in the splendor.

More walking and St. Stephen’s

I continued on past the Spanish Riding School and into Michaelerplatz Square, home to the grand Hofburg Palace complex where the Habsburgs once lived. One building in particular caught my eye—the Looshaus, an early example of modern architecture. Built in 1912, its minimalist design scandalized Emperor Franz Joseph, who famously dubbed it a “house without eyebrows.” I quite agree with him.

The rain soon became too much, and I sought shelter in Vienna’s most iconic church—St. Stephen’s Cathedral, or Stephansdom. Tired of being drenched, I purchased tickets for all the cathedral experiences—from crypt to tower. Construction on the cathedral began in the 12th century and wasn’t completed until the 16th. Its stunning tiled roof, however, was only added after the destruction of World War II.

The catacombs were particularly fascinating, with mass graves for the lower classes and jars containing organs of Habsburg royalty. I also took the tiny elevator up to the tower, where I was treated to panoramic views of Vienna and the glistening roof tiles below.

The Volksgarten and an opera

With the rain easing up, I made my way to the last stop on my list: the Volksgarten. This park exists thanks to Napoleon’s explosive exit from Vienna in the early 1800s. The damage he left behind gave the Viennese space—and they turned it into a garden. Today, thousands of roses line the walkways, many marked with donor plaques declaring love or devotion. I snapped a few photos, then hurried on—I had a date with Mozart.

You simply cannot visit Vienna without hearing live music. I had booked a ticket to Le Nozze di Figaro—The Marriage of Figaro—Mozart’s masterpiece and my very first opera. I dashed back to my hotel to check in and change out of my soggy clothes into something more appropriate for the occasion.

As I walked, the bells of Stephansdom began to ring. Bells are common in Vienna, but that day was special—it was Pentecost, a major Catholic feast. The great “Pummerin” bell, weighing nearly 50,000 pounds, tolled solemnly. It only rings on holy days or significant events. Skipping over puddles on my way to the opera house, I felt deeply grateful for the gift of this day.

As I made my way back across the city and over the Wien, I looked wistfully at the many museums I hadn’t yet seen. Silently, I promised myself: I will be back.