A few days ago I was in my favorite Viennese pool, the Gänselhäufel, an island in the Old Danube – I feel like the most beautiful outdoor pool in Vienna. Almost ten years ago I dedicated a detailed declaration of love to the Gänsehäufel on page three of the SZ. At that time, a very old gentleman named Karno Markovics always sat in the back on the left, on the west beach just in front of the restaurant; he came in the morning when the legendary lido opened, with a leather briefcase containing his snack, unfolded his lounger, stretched out his tanned, skinny old man’s body on it, and only left when the baths closed. Markovics did that every day that the Gänsehäufel is open during the season; and he was always very happy here, just like me – with the difference that he regularly found new ladies to charm.
When I returned to the very hot Vienna from my summer vacation in hot Bavaria, I fled from the glowing city to the Gänsehäufel – not only to cool off, but also to take this opportunity to see whether Karno Markovics was still sitting at his usual place . But he no longer sunbathed on the left-hand side of the western beach; in fact, his favorite spot right next to a few square meters of reeds was irritatingly empty on a day when the lido was otherwise overflowing with people. I’m afraid that’s a bad sign, he never missed a summer’s day by the water; maybe he doesn’t exist anymore.
In any case, what Markovics had ahead of me: He always stayed until the last minute before he headed for the bus, which drove him to another patron, whom he made happy and with whom he was also allowed to live. This time I stayed until the end instead, it was half past seven, and in Germany a harsh voice would probably have yelled across the site, unequivocally telling us to sneak out as quickly as possible. “We’re about to close.”
But Vienna wouldn’t be Vienna if the smack didn’t even run in the outdoor pool. The sun was about to set, I was just packing my damp towel and bathing suit, lost in thought, when first a harmonious sequence of notes rang out, demanding attention, and then a song: perhaps the most beautiful song by the band with the wonderful name 5/8erl in honor: “Swimming closes, it’s over when day greets night; pool closes, it’s over when others can miss others…” The voices are so sweet, the melody so gentle that even screaming children and groups of teenagers pregnant with testosterone are peaceful and headed towards the exit smiling happily.
Autumn comes early enough, the music stays
The group does Viennese soul; Jazz, blues and Viennese songs are mixed in, and when they sing, you like the city that little bit more. In the summer, when politics is on summer vacation, it’s a little easier than usual anyway: Chancellor Karl Nehammer on the road on a love-me-tour, FPÖ leader Herbert Kickl, when he’s not denying climate change and rhetorically cuddling with Putin , in the Gesäuse on a mountain tour, and corona deniers, right-wing extremists and other identitarian long-term demonstrators still in energy-saving mode. Autumn comes early enough anyway, at least the music stays, and then you console yourself with what 5/8erl in Ehr’n also sing about: “Heit hea i dem Regen zua.”
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