Dear Asma,
As I write you this Austrian letter, I’ve just ordered a Wiener Schnitzel, to justify all the clichés I willingly indulge in. I entered through the wide doors and stepped onto a chess-board floor that led me to the rooftop sanctuary of the Neue Hoheit restaurant, inside the Rosewood Vienna. Doors are important here; I’ll tell you in a moment why. I’m seated between two young, eagerly enthusiastic couples, and I’m the only one in the room with a laptop. “Neue Hoheit” means “New Highness,” and as I observe them, I can’t help but celebrate these young people around me. That’s what I love about this property: it attracts those seeking only the finest, whether they are 20, 30, 45, 60 or beyond. New Highness has no age limit and, luckily for me and my unassuming date (this laptop), no restrictions on writing during the dinner either.
The staff at Neue Hoheit deserve their own paragraph. They’ve embraced the “highness” mindset wholeheartedly. They are regal in posture, serene in presence, almost Bridgerton-like in their uniforms. Their voices carry both authority and warmth, and every interaction feels like an aristocratic discovery. Everything old is new again, and I’m buying into the illusion fully. This is my third night dining here. That should say something without me having to say anything, and you know how hard it always was for me not to say something. It cost me widely, yet I never regretted it.
Now about the doors. I find all the doors of Rosewood Vienna fascinating. They invite discovery. You feel as though you’re in a fairytale, where behind every door something hides, or perhaps simply waits to be revealed.
The entrance doors of the 1835 building are sturdy and ancient, yet quietly automated. They sense you (through the sensor, obviously), but move with a stillness that makes you feel like the chosen one. Almost as if waiting in the halls of Hogwarts to learn your fate. I won’t continue the Harry Potter route, nor Alice in Wonderland, though I easily could! Remember the chess-board floor at the rooftop? Alice could be filmed here. I think she might actually be around.
And the corridor doors… so many of them, forming a maze you want to solve. A puzzle you challenge yourself with. The floor rises and dips, leading you to dead ends that suddenly reveal new passages. The kind staff walk by smiling, as if handing out clues. During these days here, I’ve always managed to find an alternate way back to my room, 220.
When I entered the room, the child in me jumped as my private playground of discoveries was waiting. And on top of that, Jelena (The one you know from the Seychellois Diaries) appeared to spend a few days with me. The discovery suddenly had a voice and it was hers: “You must see the fiction stories they put next to the bed! And please try these slippers, you won’t want to take them off. I wonder if they’ll let us into the restaurant wearing them? Oh, and the view! Open the balcony door!” Her enthusiastic monologue faded the moment I slipped into the Viennese rhythm outside. A whole new life unfolded before me, and I found myself both living in the here and now and revisiting every past trip to this city that never fails to impress.
Before heading out again, we paused to admire the art. Since early 2025, Rosewood Vienna has hosted the ARTrium in its atrium, a cultural space with evolving exhibitions. The inaugural programme features immersive works by Austrian contemporary artist Hermann Nitsch and vibrant abstract oil-and-acrylic pieces by Vienna-born artist Denise Rudolf Frank.
The neighbourhood below feels like paradise for shopping enthusiasts, every brand at the doorstep. You see piles of bags from our favourites entering and leaving the hotel. And you see horses pulling the iconic Fiaker. As I passed one luxury boutique we love, two horses paused to rest right outside, perfectly aligned with the brand’s philosophy. A taxi parked beside them. And suddenly I was back in wonderland again, transported by an image of horses and cars in the city center.
I decided to walk the city as a stranger, imagining the lives unfolding around me. There was an older couple in front of an antique shop, looking at artworks and lamps as though revisiting their own story exhibited in the window. Their smiles carried a certain kind of pride that whispered, “we have lived.” It felt deeply Viennese.
After a full day of wandering, I returned through the slow and steady doors of Rosewood and made my way to the spa. Small, intentional, meaningful. A round of sauna and steam led me through circular corridors to a dark-green relaxation room where I fell asleep instantly. A power nap like no other. And yes, this morning I went to the gym. I promise. I even have an Instagram story to prove it.
Dinner just ended. The date to my left is over; they’ve been replaced by a lady quietly reading a book while tasting the menu. The date to my right continues and is as enthusiastic as when the evening began. Their passion and genuine curiosity for each other is my final discovery for today. They reminded me people still care, still show interest, still listen. I’ll call them The New Highness.
And as I gathered my things to leave, Billy Joel played in my head:
“You’ve got your passion, you’ve got your pride
But don’t you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don’t imagine they’ll all come true, ooh
When will you realize Vienna waits for you?”
Consistently yours,
Milo
