The Bunte Kuh was a bar that was a stagger from my flat in the 5th district, on the Zentagasse, and to all intents and purposes a bit of a legendary place. I last went as part of the pub night with a few other kindred Brits, all of whom consider themselves here for the long haul, and who enjoy chewing the fat in dive bars. When the debate and media coverage about Brexit started to heat up, we found that Tschocherl like the Bunte Kuh were a welcome refuge to have a chat over a beer or two and to invariably tell bad jokes.
I originally visited some time after I moved into the 5th district, as it was recommended by my Bank Manager as it was the first place in Vienna to have Guinness (and that remained true up until the last time I went to the ‘Kuh). It became tradition for me to pop in for one on the way through. In the mid-noughties it was often a last stop on the way home, since it used to have late opening and lock-ins. I never risked eating anything there, and the décor was unchanged and unimproved from the late 1970s, when it opened, but the bar somehow had enough footfall to stay open for four decades. I do remember one night after being told with a visiting friend that we had consumed too much as we descended into Little Britain impressions and should leave that we prank called them at 4am. The owner certainly didn’t hold it against me, if he had realised it was me.
Fortunately Fredi’s Feuerhalle still lives on, although B36 is another casualty on the Zentagasse. Pfuati, baba, Bunte Kuh!