they're called fiakers, as are their drivers, after Saint Fiacre, the patron saint of taxi drivers.
With their hats and greatcoats, aren't these fiakers straight out of Amadeus?
Hey, could this be the same bloke from above, now whipping along the Burgring, chatting to his colourfully-wrapped elderly passenger?
Of course the carriage horses' aristocratic relations, the Lippizaners, have their home in Vienna, at the Spanish Riding School at the Hofburg Palace ...
We didn't do the tour of their stables, but were lucky to get a glimpse of a courtyard exercise trot ...
and a close-up of one of these gorgeous creatures (doesn't he look as though he knows it?) looking over a stable door ...
while two neighbouring beauties nuzzled each other from adjacent quarters ...
The jolly red trams are a cheaper and efficient way to get around and see the sights ...
... but this is the man I'd like to get a ride with if only I could ... can you spot his dog perched behind?
