Originally designed as a summer residence for Prince Eugene of Savoy, who apparently felt a standard palace simply wouldn't cut it, this lavish complex was built after Vienna stopped fending off Ottoman invasions and started flexing its imperial muscles in stone, stucco, and cascading fountains.

The Belvedere isn’t just one palace-it’s a full-on ensemble performance: Upper and Lower Belvedere, an Orangery for your fancy citrus needs, and palace stables fit for horses with noble bloodlines. All of it is wrapped in a park so meticulously designed, you’d think every hedge was hand-trimmed by a powdered wig.

Construction kicked off in 1712 with the Lower Belvedere, but things really got dramatic in 1717 when the Upper Belvedere was added-basically a Baroque ballroom with serious diplomatic swagger. Frescoes, gilded ceilings, and artwork by the who’s who of 18th-century painters helped Eugene throw parties that whispered, “empire” with every flute of champagne.

After Prince Eugene passed in 1736, the place got a second act as a Habsburg hangout, hosting royal refugees escaping the French Revolution and later transforming into one of Europe’s earliest public museums, thanks to Maria Theresa and Joseph II.

Fast forward to the 20th century: the Belvedere went national after World War I, becoming the proud home of Austria’s classical and modern art collections. World War II wasn’t kind to it-bombings left their mark-but meticulous restoration from 1945 through the '90s brought the glory back, detail by plastered detail.

Today, the Belvedere is a major world-class museum. Its galleries span centuries, from medieval devotionals to cutting-edge modernism. And yes, Gustav Klimt’s "The Kiss" lives here too, alongside his equally iconic "Judith." You’ll also find a respectable crowd of French Impressionists and Biedermeier charmers holding court on the walls.

It's in equal measure for those who appreciate architecture, arts, or just seek to pretend they’re 18th-century nobility strolling through your summer garden... The Belvedere delivers all of this with a flourish. So go ahead-wander, gaze, and maybe channel your inner prince or princess.

Tip:
If you don’t enjoy queuing in the sun, grab your tickets online. And for the love of Baroque opulence, don’t skip the gardens-those cascading fountains and smug statues have been waiting centuries for your admiration...

Vienna’s unapologetic showpiece of Baroque drama perched on the southern edge of Karl's Square, the dazzling Saint Karl’s Church is like a powdered wig on a powdered face. Commissioned in 1713 by Emperor Karl VI as a divine “thank you” for surviving the plague, this architectural stunner is dedicated to Karl Borromeo, a 16th-century saint famous for fighting epidemics and spiritual malaise in equal measure.

Now, if you’re sensing a bit of a style mash-up, you’re absolutely right. Completed in 1737, the church is part Roman temple, part imperial flex. It flaunts a lofty elongated dome, flanked by twin columns that look like they’ve time-traveled straight from ancient Rome-specifically modeled after Trajan’s Column, but with a Baroque Viennese twist. The columns aren’t just decorative-they’re a not-so-subtle nod to the Habsburgs’ self-image: as mighty as the mythological Pillars of Hercules.

Step inside, and you're wrapped in marble, gold, and the kind of symbolic artistry that screams “imperial ambition meets holy devotion.” Look up, and you’ll see a dramatic fresco of Saint Karl interceding on behalf of humanity-because why keep your miracles subtle? The pulpit, carved from rich walnut, is a storytelling masterpiece of its own, fully restored in the early 2000s to show off every curve and flourish in glorious detail.

Still, Saint Karl’s isn’t just about stone and symbolism-it’s got star power, too. Composer Antonio Vivaldi, who died nearby in 1741, is honored here with regular concerts that make the walls practically hum with violins. In 1878, Johann Strauss said “I do” to his second wife at this very altar… although she didn’t care much for his music, which probably explains why she said “I don’t” four years later. Oh, and Hollywood legend Hedy Lamarr got hitched here in 1933-just in case you needed one more reason to stare at the pews.

So, regardless of whether you're here for the saints, the stucco, or the scandals, Saint Karl’s Church delivers Baroque brilliance with a Viennese wink all the same...

Tip:
Yes, there’s an entry fee, but it's absolutely worth it (students, rejoice-discounts apply).
A nifty elevator takes you right up to the dome, where you can admire the ceiling frescoes face-to-face. And don’t forget to sneak a peek out the dome window-the view of Vienna alone is worth the ride...

The State Opera House stands as an impressive architectural marvel, complemented by an equally remarkable ensemble of performing artists. Its historical roots trace back to approximately the 1860s when it was initially known as the Vienna Court Opera. However, the name underwent a transformation in 1920, orchestrated by the Habsburgs, during the early stages of the formation of the first Austrian Republic.

Numerous members of the Opera company eventually find themselves on stage with the renowned Vienna Philharmonic, showcasing a vast repertoire of celebrated compositions, including but not limited to, La Traviata, La Clemenza di Tito, and Verdi's Don Carlo. This venue frequently hosts performances by world-famous vocalists, and it has served as the launching pad for the careers of illustrious directors, ranging from Gustav Mahler to Herbert von Karajan and Claudio Abbado.

Beyond the captivating performances of singers and orchestra, the Opera House itself boasts architectural splendor that merits exploration. The State Opera offers guided tours of this remarkable edifice, conducted in 12 different languages. These tours are available daily and typically span approximately 40 minutes, providing visitors with a deeper understanding of this cultural gem.

Tip:
Do not buy opera tickets from the dressed up people outside on the street – they don't sell real tickets!

St. Stephen's Square-Vienna’s beating heart-is the kind of square that doesn’t just mark the center of the city, but commands it with flair.

Named after the towering St. Stephen’s Cathedral, a Gothic powerhouse of stone and spire, this cathedral is not merely Vienna’s main church-it’s one of the tallest in the world. Basically, if you're anywhere nearby and don’t see it, check your glasses...

Back in the day-before the 20th century, that is-this square and the nearby Stock-im-Eisen-Platz were awkward neighbors separated by a row of buildings. Those were eventually knocked down, and voilà, a grand unification. Now, St. Stephen's Square graciously includes the whole area, like a generous host absorbing the entire block party.

To the west and south, the scene gets posh with Graben Street (which literally translates as "the Ditch," though it’s far more champagne than shovel these days) and Carinthian Street, named so after the Carinthia region of Austria, but now better known for shopping that could make your wallet nervous.

And then there’s Haas Haus, lounging across from St. Stephen’s Cathedral like the cool, modern cousin at a family reunion. Designed by Hans Hollein and made of glass, steel, and unapologetic modernism, it was once the source of much civic side-eye. Now it’s celebrated as the poster child for architectural harmony: medieval meets mirror-polished millennium.

While this square may not be the best location for fine dining-unless your idea of haute cuisine is a schnitzel sandwich-sitting in one of the local cafés provides you with the front row for the city’s greatest spectacle: the people of Vienna. Locals, tourists, street performers, and the occasional opera enthusiast all sweep through under the cathedral’s watchful gaze.

So pull up a chair, order something strong, and take it all in-because this is more than just a square. It’s Vienna condensed...

Tip:
Stroll around the cathedral’s side and you’ll find its miniature version. It’s like someone said, “Let’s make it travel-sized,” and it’s oddly satisfying. Great for photos, or just for pretending you’re a giant for a moment.

In a city where “stunning architecture” is practically the dress code, Saint Stephen’s Cathedral still manages to steal the spotlight-and possibly your neck muscles too, as you crane to admire that towering spire. Known locally as Stephansdom, this Gothic-Romanesque powerhouse has stood at the heart of Vienna’s skyline and soul since 1147, rising on the bones of two earlier churches like the overachiever it is.

In the 14th century, Duke Rudolf IV decided the cathedral needed a serious makeover. The idea worked. As a result, today we have the building stretching 107 meters long, 40 meters wide, and topped by the South Tower-or “Steffl,” if you're on nickname terms-a 136-meter-high feat of medieval determination that took 65 years to complete. It even moonlighted as a lookout post during Vienna’s sieges, complete with a live-in watchman until 1955. One heck of a long shift...

Meanwhile, the North Tower never quite hit its growth spurt. It stalled at 68 meters and got a Renaissance hat in 1578-basically the architectural equivalent of saying “this is fine” and walking away.

But the real showstopper here is the roof. A kaleidoscope of 230,000 glazed tiles arranged into imperial emblems like the double-headed eagle of the Habsburgs and the crests of Vienna and Austria. After being torched in World War II, it was rebuilt with steel instead of wood-600 metric tons of it-making the new roof not just durable, but also self-cleaning. Because even cathedrals love low-maintenance routines...

Inside, things get just as grand. There’s Pummerin, Europe’s second-largest swinging bell, forged from Turkish cannons in 1711 and recast in 1951-because nothing says peace like a bell made from wartime leftovers. Oh, and she lives in the North Tower, ringing out for special moments and daily rituals.

Musical legends haunt these hallowed halls too: Beethoven figured out he was deaf here (tragic), Haydn sang here as a kid (sweet), Strauss got married here-twice (bold), and Mozart? He got married and buried here. Yes, Saint Stephen's is basically the VIP lounge of Viennese music history.

Inside, you’ll find 18 altars, miraculous icons, bone relics-including those of Saint Valentine-and a maze of crypts holding 11,000 souls, including Habsburg royalty.

Tip:
Do a lap around the outside. Gargoyles, engravings, medieval graffiti-you never know what stories the stones will whisper...

Perched above Vienna’s High Market, the Anker Clock is a delightful piece of early 20th-century theatrical engineering. It’s named after the Anker Insurance Company, which bankrolled the project-because not that many things in the world can manifest “solid investment” as vividly as an Art Nouveau timepiece straddling a bridge between two buildings... The mastermind behind it was Franz von Matsch, a close collaborator of Gustav Klimt, because apparently, Vienna couldn’t build anything back then without roping in someone from the Secessionist circle.

Now, the real fun kicks in at noon, when the clock turns into a slow-motion parade of historical celebrities. Twelve of them take a turn gliding across the clock face, each accompanied by era-appropriate music. You’ve got Marcus Aurelius (who conveniently died in Vienna), Empress Maria Theresa, Joseph Haydn, and more-if you want the full cast list, check the handy plaque at street level.

Originally, the tunes were played by an 800-tube mechanical organ-yes, 800 tubes (!!!), because subtlety wasn’t in vogue back then. Although this beast survived World War II shelling, it was badly damaged, beyond repair, so today it is replaced by a ten-minute medley of digital sound reproduction. Mozart and Wagner still show up, though now via speaker instead of steampunk sorcery.

Is it as grand as Prague’s Astronomical Clock? Not quite. But the Anker Clock has its charm nonetheless: no elbowing through selfie sticks, no jostling crowds. Just a charming, slightly surreal little moment in the middle of the day.

Bonus tip:
While you’re there, check out the Marriage Fountain nearby-a beautifully over-the-top Baroque creation from the 18th century that, let’s be honest, pairs nicely with a clock that plays Haydn at lunchtime.

Tucked snugly among Vienna’s Baroque showpieces like a pearl in a pastry, Saint Peter’s Church has a front-row seat to history, and not much else, thanks to the buildings crowding around it. You’ll mostly catch it head-on, which, honestly, is its best angle.

This spot has seen churches come and go like emperors with changing tastes. Some say the very first church here dates back to the early 4th century AD, making it one of the oldest in Vienna-yes, back when sandals were in and Rome was still a big deal. In 792, none other than King Charlemagne is said to have popped by and said, “Let’s build.” There’s even a plaque on the façade bragging about it. Historical records, ever the skeptics, first mention the church in 1137, but who’s counting?

By the late 1100s, the church cozied up to the newly founded Schottenstift monastery. Then came fire, plague, and drama. After the 1661 fire, it got a bit of a patch job… until the plague of 1679 cleared the streets and cleared the way for Emperor Leopold I, who swore a divine vow to rebuild. And he did...

Construction began around 1701, drawing heavy inspiration from Saint Peter’s Basilica in Rome-because if you’re going to imitate, imitate the best. By 1733, Vienna had its first domed Baroque beauty, cleverly built with a compact, oval layout to fit the tight space.

Outside, it sports a neat combo of white and barely-there yellow, flanked by two towers that curve ever so slightly inward-apparently a cheeky nod to Turkish tent poles from the 1683 siege.

Step inside, and there you have it: gold stucco, opulent frescoes, and Johann Michael Rottmayr’s artistic fireworks overhead, including the Coronation of Our Lady. The high altar gets dramatic with a healing scene, starring Saint Peter and Saint John, and around the edges, you'll spot relics of Roman martyrs, reclining in crystal coffins like glittering saints on display.

The church was polished up in a major 1998–2004 renovation, and today it’s still a Baroque gem in Vienna’s crown.

Hot tip:
Drop in any day from 3 to 3:30 pm for a free organ concert-divine music, no ticket required (but donations are saintly). And if you're lucky, catch a choir in the crypts. Now that’s a holy experience...

The Graben-Vienna’s glitzy catwalk of history, high fashion, and a bit of medieval ditch drama. Yes, believe it or not, this elegant boulevard began life as… a trench. That’s right-“Graben” means “ditch” in German, and it once ran right in front of the city walls back when this area was still the Roman outpost of Vindobona.

Fast forward to the 12th century: the ditch gets filled in-thanks in part to a juicy ransom paid for none other than Richard the Lionheart-and suddenly, Vienna’s growing faster than a Baroque wig in a windstorm. The Babenberg Dukes extended the city, and voilà-the Graben became a proper street. Still called "the Ditch," though. Old names die hard...

Look closely and you’ll notice the split personality of this street. On the north side, it's a bit of a chaotic maze. On the south, neat side streets fanning out like clockwork-proof of some seriously medieval city planning chops. Over time, the Graben morphed into Vienna’s main artery, pumping life, gossip, and powdered wigs through the city’s heart.

By the Baroque era, the Graben was the place to see and be seen. Think of it as 18th-century Instagram, but with actual human interaction. Nobles strolled, markets bustled, and the elite shopped, dined, and judged your fashion choices in real time. Come the 19th century, luxury shops arrived, and by the mid-20th, it became the pedestrian haven we know today-ditch-free and proudly strut-worthy.

Start your walk at Stock-im-Eisen-Platz, end at Tuchlauben, and enjoy a lineup of architectural heavyweights along the way. There’s the Ankerhaus, once home to architect Otto Wagner, and Bartolotti-Partenfeld Palace, the summer hangout of one very well-to-do Baron family.

Music lovers-don’t miss the Generalihof, once headquarters of the Musikalisches Magazin, which first published some of Mozart’s work back in 1784. And keep going till you reach the Grabenhof, built in 1876, now radiating all the grandeur of a Viennese power pose.

And before you go: tip your metaphorical hat to the Plague Column, that theatrical swirl of angels and anguish, erected by Emperor Leopold I after the Great Plague of 1679. A monument to survival, faith, and the baroque love of a dramatic statue.

Happy strolling-mind the history underfoot...

Saint Michael’s Square-or Michaelerplatz if you're feeling extra Austrian-is by far more than just a pretty roundabout. This baroque, star-shaped showstopper is the northeastern gateway to the Hofburg Palace-the kind of place where Roman legions, imperial drama, and architectural snobbery all collide in delightful chaos...

Let’s rewind a couple millennia: underneath your feet once stood Vindobona, a Roman military camp. You can still peek at the excavated remains in the center of the square-because Vienna doesn’t just bury its history, it displays it like a badge of honor.

Marching into view is the grand Michael’s Gate, a triumph of Neo-Baroque drama. It’s flanked by two dramatic 19th-century fountains sculpted by Rudolf Weyer-imagine “Roman gods doing acrobatics in water.” This is your official entrance into the imperial Hofburg, via Saint Michael’s Wing, which sounds like a fancy dessert but is actually just as rich in stone.

Across from all this pageantry stands the Church of Saint Michael, namesake of the square. Parts of it go back to 1221, though what you see now mostly dates from a sprucing-up in 1792. The church’s porch features a wild Baroque sculpture of the Fall of the Angels-very metal. Step inside and you’ll find 14th-century frescoes, Vienna’s largest gilded organ (once played by Haydn, no less), and a crypt that’s equal parts eerie and fascinating. Yes, they still have open coffins with mummified parishioners in full funeral chic. Welcome to Vienna...

Now turn your gaze to the Looshaus, a stark modernist rebel built in 1912 by architect Adolf Loos. At the time, it scandalized polite society-and Emperor Franz Joseph so hated its minimalist vibe, he refused to walk through Michael’s Gate ever again. Today, it's a working bank with a lavish interior clad in marble and mirrors. Moral of the story? Never judge a building by its cover.

Other star attractions ring the square like jewels, including the Spanish Riding School, the Sisi Museum, the Herberstein Palace, and a pair of 18th-century homes-one of which once belonged to Haydn himself.

Insider tip: spring for a horse-drawn carriage tour from here. This ride is a true slow-motion glide through centuries of imperial flair...

The Hofburg-or as it’s known in more regal circles, the “Castle of the Court”-is a sprawling architectural beast of a palace, a centuries-old flex of Habsburg power, pageantry, and perfectly symmetrical courtyards.

It all began back in 1279, when the Dukes of Austria needed a nice little place to call home. Fast forward a few empires and renovations later, and you've got the winter playground of the Holy Roman Emperors (until 1806) and the Emperors of Austria (until 1918). Today, the palace has swapped imperial intrigue for political paperwork-it’s now the official residence of the Austrian President and hosts the headquarters of the OSCE. Less crown, more conference...

Now, brace yourself: the Hofburg covers more than 240,000 square meters of space, comprising 18 wings, 19 courtyards, and a whopping 2,600 rooms. That’s not really a palace-it’s a small city. It houses everything from the elegant Amalienburg and Albertina museum, to the Imperial Chapel, the Court Library, the Treasure Chamber, and even the Spanish Riding School, where horses have more training than most people’s resumes.

The Swiss Wing is one of the oldest parts of the palace, dating back to the 13th century-yes, it’s older than your great-great-anything. Emperor Ferdinand I added the Swiss Gate in the 1550s, with his personal insignia on full display, just in case anyone forgot who was in charge.

The 17th-century Leopoldine Wing, built and later re-styled in Late Renaissance flair, adds even more imperial swagger, while the Court Library is basically a Baroque fever dream-with its majestic Prunksaal hall, frescoed ceilings, and emperors carved in stone, looking as dramatic as ever.

And it doesn’t stop there: the Winter Riding School, the Imperial Chancellery Wing (once home to Napoleon himself), and the elegant Redoute Wing-a former opera house-round out the complex. Even the Imperial Mews got a glow-up and now host those classy Lipizzaner horses.

Tip:
On Sundays, pop into the Imperial Chapel for Mass and catch the Vienna Boys Choir-angelic voices echoing through centuries of history. Because when in Vienna, you don’t just visit a palace… you enter a whole imperial universe.

Café Central stands as a quintessential Viennese coffeehouse, nestled on the ground floor of the Palais Ferstel, formerly known as the Bank and Stockmarket Building, designed by architect Heinrich von Ferstel.

Established back in 1876, this café gained significant prominence during the late 19th century, evolving into a pivotal hub for Vienna's intellectual elite. Distinguished regulars included luminaries such as Peter Altenberg, Theodor Herzl, Alfred Adler, Egon Friedell, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Anton Kuh, Adolf Loos, Leo Perutz, Robert Musil, Stefan Zweig, Alfred Polgar, Adolf Hitler, and Leon Trotsky. Remarkably, in January 1913 alone, notable figures like Josip Broz Tito, Sigmund Freud, and the ever-present Trotsky frequented this establishment.

It was often colloquially referred to as the "Chess school" (Die Schachhochschule), owing to the prevalence of chess enthusiasts who gathered on the first floor to engage in their games. The Vienna Circle, a group of logical positivists, convened numerous meetings here both before and after World War I.

One intriguing anecdote recalls a conversation between Victor Adler and Count Berchtold, the foreign minister of Austria-Hungary, where Adler warned that war might incite revolution in Russia, if not within the Habsburg monarchy itself. In response, Berchtold facetiously queried, "And who will lead this revolution? Perhaps Mr. Bronstein (Leon Trotsky) sitting over there at the Cafe Central?"

Following the conclusion of World War II, the café ceased its operations. However, in 1975, the Palais Ferstel underwent a renovation, and Café Central was resurrected in a different part of the building. Subsequently, in 1986, it underwent another comprehensive renovation.

Today, Café Central remains a cherished tourist attraction and a popular coffeehouse, revered for its enduring place in literary history.