Isabella Reinberg loves cars, has a subtle aversion to stairs and lives with her husband and a purebred mongrel dog in a house that she didn’t look for, but found. A story about lightness, security, a life on six levels – and why you sometimes have to get out first to really arrive.
Isabella Reinberg has already moved eleven times in her life – from her 35-square-metre starter apartment to her current retreat in Gablitz. And although the Vienna native and Managing Director of “Reinberg & Partner”, a renowned real estate valuation company, has thought every time she has moved: Now it’s the last time, it never was. Until this house came along. And somehow everything changed.
There are houses that you choose – and there are houses that get their inhabitants. Isabella Reinberg’s home undoubtedly belongs to the second type. She found it two years ago – or rather, it found her – after visiting around 15 to 20 projects with her husband. “When we walked into this house,” she recalls, “it quickly became clear: this is it.” A classic moment that many real estate professionals know – the feeling when one room, one perspective, one mood makes all the difference. “The energy was right.”
The house violated almost all the original criteria: too big, too many stairs, too few parking spaces. But the feeling was right. And that was enough. “We moved in with the suitcase.”
A house with character – and steps
The address? Gablitz. A community of 5,000 just outside Vienna – idyllic, quiet, green. The 400 square meter house was built by an acquaintance of the family – also a real estate professional – who once created a high-quality retreat for his family of five. Rooms flooded with light, solid doors, alarm system, two entrances with locks (perfect for the current family dog Pixus), lots of wood, lots of light. “And not a single room that makes you feel uncomfortable.”
For Isabella, one aspect in particular was crucial: security. “It’s important to me that no one can see in from outside. The only person who can occasionally take a look at us is our neighbor with the chickens. In return, he brings us fresh eggs every now and then.”
The furnishings? Remained almost completely as it was. Just a few personal pieces of furniture, some new wall paint, pictures. And a sense of calm. When asked how she would describe her living style, she answers as if shot from a pistol: “Simple. Monochrome. Modern.” No passion for collecting, no frills, no open shelves. “I need order, otherwise I get nervous. My head is often loud enough.”
Nevertheless, the pictures in the house tell stories. Many come from Asia – brought back from her husband’s travels. Others are from Vienna, such as a large-format portrait of a bull (“My star sign”), which she had walked past for months before it arrived as a birthday present. “I see myself in it – it has depth.”
Architecture meets gut feeling
Both professionally and privately, the Reinbergs are a well-coordinated team: he takes care of the structural substance, she takes care of the gut feeling. “We both have our own office in the house – there are plenty of rooms.” And the feeling of ” this is mine ” was there straight away.
Of course, there are little things that she would do differently today. The dark but exclusive kitchen worktop, for example. The awkwardly shaped bathroom, which is also a bit outdated, will soon be getting a makeover. But there’s no stress. “The furnishings are high quality, replacing everything would make no economic sense.”
Step management & storage space strategies
But one detail remained non-negotiable – or rather: unmissable. The steps. The house has six levels, each with half floors – Isabella Reinberg does not know exactly how many steps there are. Not yet. “I should count them,” she says with a laugh. “But you get inventive. Everything that has to go up is stacked on the stairs for a short time. You walk deliberately.” It’s only when Pixus, in his playful mood, rearranges the piles that efficiency comes to an end.
The dog – an indescribably unique specimen according to the DNA test – arrived two months before the house. And became a personal mindfulness trainer. “I was always fast, hectic, impatient. Now I’m calmer. Slower. Even my dog trainers say I’ve changed.”
Garden, guests and great peace and quiet
So much movement on the inside calls for balance on the outside. And that’s what the garden offers. Not a show garden, but efficiently maintained: with a lawn robot, automatic irrigation and enough space to breathe. “I go out, look after the flowers, pull weeds – it clears my head.” Pixus takes it similarly easy. Two laps – then it’s time to patrol.
Inside, too, the house offers space for retreat – and for socializing. A large dining table regularly invites guests to celebrate: Christmas, Easter, birthdays. “We don’t celebrate often, but when we do, we do it properly.” The kitchen is high quality – but not perfect. “I regularly bend over the stove to reach the water. That could probably have been solved a little better.”
Gym with irony
Where people cook, celebrate and live today, they also occasionally work out – at least in theory. The fitness room was already there, the sauna was installed. And the result? “Four fitness sessions in two years – but a sauna every week.” For sporting activities and regular running sessions, they both prefer to go outside anyway. “We can be in the countryside in a minute. You don’t get that in Vienna.”
Looking ahead – with a grip on the ground
As settled as Isabella Reinberg feels today – her head remains mobile. In the long term, the couple are already thinking about alternatives: smaller, at ground level, with fewer steps. A bungalow with a parking space for the cars, which in the best-case scenario can also be seen from the living area. Perhaps in the Vienna area, or perhaps abroad. Because you always have to be open to new things, especially in this job. “I always say: this is my last house,” explains Reinberg. “But to be honest, I don’t believe it myself.”
All photos: Sybille Sierlinger
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