Zum Café Sacher

I'm not sure what I expected from the Café Sacher. I was made aware of it only by the guidebook of fellow travellers whom I met on the train from Prague to Vienna, whereupon I was informed that it was the original home of Sachertort, the best chocolate cake in the world. It was too good to refuse. I spend roughly five times more on my cake and coffee than I did on my dinner (two pieces of excellent mushroom pizza from a street vendor on Mariahilferstraße), but how could I possibly resist?

The Café Sacher is to chocolate cake what the Waldorf Astoria is to salad. By which I mean, it's one small part of a huge upmarket hotel, where the waiters wear tuxedos and treat their guests like superstars. The prices were comparatively reasonable, considering. I entered with a swift but friendly 'Guten Morgen', and though originally the waiter wanted to help me out in English, he quickly realised that my German was good enough to test. So I had my entire conversation with him in German, which made me feel all the better.

Although the room was practically empty, I was directed to the second table on the left. Why? I don't know. I ordered Sachertort and Sacherkaffee, the former being a chocolate cake with a slightly tart aftertaste for which the slogan 'best in the world' is clearly a marketing ploy, the latter being excellently mixed with both cream and chocolate liqueur. As is the Viennese fashion, I then sat for half an hour reading a book and enjoying my surroundings, before leaving with a heartfelt goodbye and a long, slow walk home.

The storm came at 3am this morning. I know this because I was awake. My back was so sore it was prone to spasm, and some random country's healthy insect population has covered me in deep, red swollen bites from the tip of my scalp to the heels of my feet. The antihistamine tablets I bought this morning for the latter are not doing enough, but the back's slowly improving. Any suggestions?