City walks

The ambivalence of cars in a big city

"Krone" reporter Robert Fröwein talks to Viennese people about their thoughts, experiences and concerns.

(Bild: stock.adobe.com, Krone KREATIV)

"Krone" reporter Robert Fröwein strolls through the city and talks to people in Vienna about their experiences, their thoughts, their worries, their fears. Everyday stories straight from the heart of Vienna.

As someone who grew up in the Styrian diaspora, I have a broader relationship with cars than seems to be the case in Vienna. Choosing my first car in the early noughties was just as important as the right paint job, the short sports antenna (much cooler!) and the right CD changer. Even the infamous "snack board" (technically known as the rear spoiler) was a deciding factor in various circles of friends. Now a good 20 years have passed and I live in the west of Vienna. I still have a car, but not for everyday use to get from A to B. That would be pointless because it would be a waste of time. Vienna is the city where the topic of cars is the most hotly debated. Just recently in my immediate neighborhood.

When the SUV-driving resident of the building next door once again leaves his engine running for minutes on end, the lady on the sidewalk is naturally less than enthusiastic. "Can you turn off the Kraxn for once? Does he have to run all the time?" The element of surprise prevents the expected heated exchange of words. The SUV driver seems snubbed, but does as he rudely requested. Opinions differ about the car. Petty wars break out and good friendships are put to a serious test. It's about the following, among other things: Do you even need a car in the city? How do you deal with the parking sticker issue? Don't pedestrian and shared zones make more sense than thoroughfares? And why do people have to speed so irresponsibly at the city gates all the time?

It is true that there is not much to be said for owning a car in the capital, but the collective demonization of the car is too short-sighted. I am thinking, for example, of the sprightly senior citizen around the corner from my apartment who squeezes herself into her car with great physical effort in order to do the shopping and daily commute alone. When Wiener Linien cuts numerous connections in its summer conversion offensive and the doctor I trust practices at the foothills of the Vienna Woods, things quickly become difficult for people with limited mobility. In times of Austrian turbo-inflation, cab fares are not a permanent solution to the problem for a household with a normal income. Sometimes it is simply a matter of transporting heavy shopping from A to B or being able to drive away from Auer-Welsbach-Park into the countryside at the weekend.

"If I want to visit a friend in Floridsdorf, I need the car," a good acquaintance recently told me when we got to talking about the subject, "there's no subway where he lives and when it gets later and it's cold, I wait ages for the bus. That's simply not an option for me." For a good friend of mine, on the other hand, the need for a car is completely different. "I hate it when people sweat or cough at me on public transport. It's cramped and uncomfortable and when the heating is turned up at the beginning of spring, I've had enough." Not all reasons may be coherent, social or forward-looking, but when it comes to cars, it's clear that paternalism is no solution to the problem.