Vienna may be known as the city of music, but the vine-clad hills around Austria’s capital are alive with the chink of glasses. Renate Ruge raises a toast to its fine wines

We’re on the up,’ says Niko, our charming, sporty guide, as he strides ahead up the steep slopes of Nussberg, in the bucolic hills fringing Vienna. I breathlessly bring up the rear, while he reveals there are about 650 hectares (1,600 acres) of vineyards within the city limits – and around 150 wineries. Sounds promising for my mini-break with wine-loving friends. As we walk, we sip – known here as ‘wine wandering’. A peachy riesling with apricot notes certainly helps on the uphill, and we’re rewarded with stunning 360-degree views from the summit. Emerald vineyards spill down to the valley below, and in the distance golden rooftops of elegant baroque palaces glint in the autumnal sun. The river Danube snakes gently through the picture.

Today the hills are alive with people celebrating the annual harvest, tasting the first drops of the latest vintage. In centuries-old tradition, Vienna Wine Hiking Day commemorates a moment in 1784 that changed everything: Emperor Joseph II decreed that selling wine was open to farmers – so it was no longer just the nobility who could make a living from the fruits of the city. Plump grapes hanging from nearby vines are ripe for the picking, too hard to resist – I pop one in my mouth, savouring its juice. Winding our way through the vineyards from winery to winery, we pause at intervals for ein schluck (a sip) at makeshift bars called buschenschank – named after the pine twigs decorating the entrances, which signal a welcome to thirsty hikers. Opening seasonally, these places champion vine-to-glass drinking, and also serve planks of cheese, cold cuts and pickles. They’re heaven on earth for oenophiles.

Sitting around picnic-style benches among the vines, the atmosphere convivial, a round of cloudy-looking liquid in small beer glasses appears. Local fellow hiker and new friend Mattias explains that sturm is served directly from the tank and gets its name and ‘stormy’ look from still-fermenting grapes. It’s the local’s favourite way to celebrate the first taste of the harvest, and it’s tradition to toast with your left hand. ‘Prost,’ says Niko (meaning cheers) as we sip the just-pressed juice. Citrusy Gemischter Satz (field wine) is the speciality here, with different local varieties creatively blended for tasty, aromatic results. Winemaker Fritz Wieninger – aka ‘Mr Gemischter Satz’, pioneer of the ‘New Vienna’ wine movement – opens a 2021 vintage.

His family has been making wine here for more than 100 years, and we chat about our morning spent picking grapes with his mother, Barbara, snipping the bunches under her watchful eye and filling buckets with the lush fruit – as she’s done since Fritz was a baby in a bassinet. He was literally raised in the vines. Our glasses are finished as a sunset splatters across the horizon in a rosé-hued glow. So we venture downhill for dinner at a traditional wine tavern or heurige (meaning this year’s/latest vintage) – Mayer am Pfarrplatz in Heiligenstadt, which has been producing wine since 1683. Seemingly, not much has changed – there are wood-clad walls, vine-covered courtyards and musicians in lederhosen playing the accordion. Ludwig van Beethoven himself probably enjoyed their signature tafelspitz (stew): he lived nearby in 1817, while working on his Symphony No. 9. The enticing cooking scents draw us inside. While the Danes have hygge, the Austrian version of affable cosiness is gemütlichkeit – a quintessential warmth that sums up the Viennese spirit. Pumpkins are in season, and a rich soup topped with roasted seeds (kürbiskerne) and fingers of schmalzbrot – rye bread slathered with savoury spreads – are satisfying starters. Crunchy baked chicken goes well with a dill-infused cucumber salad, while a just-baked apple strudel swimming in vanilla sauce makes the perfect pud. Sehr gut!

The next day, I wake to the scent of pastries baking at the Hotel Beethoven, follow my nose to a grand continental spread in the salon and opt for a window seat overlooking a theatre. Behold – cake for breakfast. A stand of viennoiserie (pastries) beckons, including swirls – or schnecke – stuffed with currants, and slices of bundt cake. Less naughty but equally nice is muesli and yogurt, topped with cherries. There’s good coffee and sparkling local wine, too. Classical music – Beethoven, of course – fills the air. Heading back to my room on the sixth floor, I’m pleased by the fact that this level of the hotel is themed around strong fin de siècle Viennese women – from inventors and a Nobel Peace Prize recipient, to femmes fatales such as Emilie Flöge, Gustav Klimt’s muse. My own, chandeliered room, decorated in shades of violet, celebrates Berta Zuckerkandl – a journalist, cultural critic, humanist and champion of modern Austrian art. This boutique-y hotel is in a good spot, too, right next to the outdoor foodie market, or naschmarkt (nasch means scoff). It’s my kind of place, offering fat sausages grilling with vats of sauerkraut among small shops and cafés – a colourful snapshot of the city.

It’s said that Vienna, home to 2 million people, has more palaces than some cities have post offices. Many of them were built by the Habsburgs, who ruled Austria for more than 600 years. It’s wonderful to retrace the steps of royalty at Schloss Schönbrunn, the Habsburgs’ former summer residence – it’s thought that a young Mozart gave a concert in its mirror room. Vienna’s historic centre is encircled by the Ringstrasse, with the mighty Hofburg Palace at its centre, but today we’re on a ‘wine in the city’ tour with connoisseur Caroline Derler. First stop: Palais Coburg, a five-star hotel in a restored neoclassical building, once host to royalty and heads of state, with presidential vibes throughout. We follow Caroline past the grand candlelit staircase, through terraced gardens and down into the wine cellars. The cool, cavernous rooms are filled with priceless vintages. Labels such as Penfolds Grange and Dom Pérignon abound among the 60,000-plus bottles, with Austrian wine from the 1800s – the oldest of all is a 1727 vintage.

The restaurant’s wine offering is more of a book than a list, with 5,200 options. Ask after any wine and it’s probably here. After savouring the flavours of some rare riesling and zweigelt vintages, we emerge into the sunlight. Walking to our next stop, I admire Vienna’s architectural blend of old and new: baroque buildings straight from a fairytale compete with shiny skyscrapers. Trees shade shop-lined boulevards such as Burggasse, with the sun dappling prettily on cobbled streets. At Karmeliterplatz we gather around tables on the square at Vinifero, while bar owner Claire Yuan shares how she set up a women’s wine collective. My friends Helena, Kirsten and I raise a glass to young female winemakers creating new ‘natural’ wines and challenging the status quo. Dinner at Das Loft offers a snapshot of Vienna’s modern dining scene at new heights – on the 18th floor of the SO/ Vienna hotel. We enjoy starters of crême curd with leek, topped with caviar; beef steak mains with a glossy morels sauce; a succession of wine; and very berry blackcurrant sorbet to finish. We toast the remains of the day – and the mesmerising city views – with a lush 2014 Seewinkel Beerenauslese dessert wine.

Soaking up the local café culture with coffee and a slice of chocolatey cake such as Sachertorte is a perfect way to start the day, Vienna-style. We opt for Café Sperl, where waiters in waistcoats are called herr ober. After our java hit, we then spend the rest of the morning at a Wine & Clay pottery class in an uber-modern studio. Talented artist Vera from Never at Home hosts this fun group activity, where blushing glasses of zweigelt rosé help the creative juices flow. I craft a lemon-shaped plate, while pal Phillippe fashions a knödel (dumpling) – all he can think about, after the fat plum dumplings he devoured yesterday... The weather gods smile on us with blue skies for our alfresco lunch at Glacis Beisl. Sitting under the shade of an arbour covered in old vines, we tuck into Wiener schnitzel the size of my face, served from a pan of bubbling butter, with sides of pickled cucumber salad, cranberry sauce and perfectly seasoned potatoes. While it’s claimed schnitzel hails from Italy (via cotoletta alla Milanese, which allegedly made its way to Austria in the mid-19th century), the Viennese version is so good that it’s just one more reason to return to this classic destination – a great place for cross-generational family or friend groups, and romantic couples alike. And so, I head to the airport with a full belly, and a whole new appreciation for Austrian wine. Oh, Vienna!