Joining a handful of Vienna hotels that embrace a cool 21st-century design sensibility over a lush 19th century romanticism, the Levante Parliament is located in a handsome 1908 Bauhaus structure tucked behind, yes, the Parliament. In the past, the building served as a sanatorium and a student dorm, but it has shed its institutional history for sleek rooms outfitted with buff-colored marble, dark wenge wood, streaks of orange in the bedding and chairs, plus the requisite flatscreen TVs and high-tech lighting—the overall effect being that of a glorified West Elm catalog. If possible, nab a room overlooking the hip, loungey, enclosed courtyard, a much better bet than those facing the hotel's busy and not-very-picturesque street, Auerspergstrasse.
WHAT'S THE BIG WOW?
The hotel was designed, in part, to showcase art, all of which is for sale. The
most interesting stuff is Ioan Nemtoi's colorful Chihuly-esque glass pieces
which punctuate the hotel's Nemtoi restaurant, lobby, and courtyard. Less
successful are Curt Themessl's cheesy black-and-white photographs of local
dancers, which line the halls and stairs. Strangely, the photo canvas in our room
was partially obscured by a tall mirror, perhaps placed there by another
unimpressed guest.
LIKED BEST?
The location—in five minutes we could be traipsing through the vibrant Museum
Quarter, home to the Leopold Museum, the city's children's museum, the very
contemporary MUMOK, and dozens of lithe sunbathers, or sipping a melange across
the street from the center of it all, St. Stephen's Cathedral. In another ten
minutes, we could be eating weisswurst or grilled octopus in the bustling
outdoor Nachtmarkt. But the hotel is situated just far enough off the beaten
path to breathe a sigh of relief when you return from, say, the mobbed scene at
the opera screenings in front of City Hall (where thousands of locals gather on
summer evenings to eat, drink, smoke, and watch opera projected on a huge
screen). Plus, the non-touristy area right behind the Levante has great little
zigzagging streets and antique shops full of weird stuff.
LIKED LEAST:
The smirking hotel manager. When I balked at paying 7 euros to have one pair of
my son's pint-sized Levi's washed by the hotel's laundry services and asked for
directions to the nearest Laundromat (where it cost 15 euros for a whole
suitcase full of dirty laundry to be washed and folded, thank you very much), I
was met with unnecessary attitude. The other staff, however, were more helpful,
and did find us an amazing babysitter one night, whom we wanted to pack in with
all that clean laundry and smuggle back to the States with us. I also didn't
love the small, overly bright, marble-clad bathrooms, which are equipped with
showers only—no tubs. And all that marble gets slippery—my son suffered a
major wipeout in there, and one morning we heard cries from down the hall when
one of the cleaning women took a spill (we thought at first it was those other
kinds of cries you sometimes hear in hotels, and I wish it had been).
WHO SHOULD STAY THERE:
Design-happy travelers whose introduction to Austrian music was Falco, not
Mozart.
WOULD YOU GO BACK?
Not any time soon—a stay in Vienna demands digs with a little more soul.