Vienna has always been a city of tempo. From the rhythm of its orchestras to the clipped stride of waiters at Café Central, it is a place that moves with elegant urgency. But this June, the tempo changes. For three days, the Austrian capital becomes a departure point not only for culture, but for speed, supersonic, fuel-fed, and thrillingly loud.
This is no ordinary weekend in Vienna. It is the Austria Grand Prix. And for those seeking the rarest kind of Formula 1 experience, the one stitched not in fan merchandise but in frescoed ceilings and polished silver, there’s a new route to the Red Bull Ring that bypasses the crowds and rewrites the weekend entirely.
Offered through a discreet collaboration between Mirai Flights and The Ritz-Carlton Vienna, the package begins not on the track, but in a suite. Not just any suite, one carved into the bones of a 19th-century palace, layered with original frescoes, and warmed by the hush of Viennese grandeur. The Signature Suite at The Ritz-Carlton feels less like a hotel room and more like a private chapter of the city’s cultural history. It is here, over fine Viennese pastries and the soft clang of distant church bells, that the weekend’s contrasting energies begin to align.
From here, time folds neatly in half. No early shuttles. No winding convoys. Instead, each morning begins with a private car and a short drive to the private terminal, where a Mirai Flights concierge awaits, not clipboard-in-hand, but more like a modern-day butler. The experience is as frictionless as one might hope. A sip of champagne, a whispered confirmation of take-off time, and within minutes you’re above the Styrian Alps, tracing the road that others will spend hours navigating.
It’s a strange thing, flying to a Formula 1 race. In the air, there’s silence. On the ground, velocity. And yet, the juxtaposition works. Because the race, fought with millimetre precision on the Red Bull Ring, is all the more electric when arrived at in such measured calm.
The Ring itself, nestled in Austria’s rolling green hills, is arguably one of the sport’s most scenic circuits. But with Paddock Club passes in hand, guests of Mirai Flights are invited beyond the grandstands. Here, access is literal, behind-the-scenes tours, meet-and-greets, gourmet hospitality. It’s F1 as few ever see it: not just a race, but a performance in which you’re given a backstage pass.
And then, after the roar, the return. Not to traffic and queues, but to altitude. Champagne again, perhaps. Maybe not. By evening, the city reclaims you, and you let it. There is dinner to be had. A concert at Wiener Musikverein to attend. Or simply a walk, unhurried, through streets where Mozart once stepped, and now your footsteps echo too.
The package is, on paper, impressive: three nights, private jet transfers, five-star accommodation, premium paddock access. But on paper, you miss the magic. The moment when the jet door opens and the mountains spill across the tarmac. The way the hotel smells of polish and old wood. The stillness between races. The hush before the overture. The sudden, sublime collision of city and circuit.
For those who understand that speed, like music, needs silence to be felt, this is the kind of weekend that lingers.
