The irony about a city that celebrates Mozart with such uncontained commercial hysteria is that the young composer hated Salzburg. He couldn’t wait to escape the clutches of its Prince-Archbishop and find fame and freedom elsewhere.
Wherever you look in Salzburg, Mozart’s ghost lurks. We landed at Mozart airport in our BA A319, we could buy Mozart sweets, drink coffee in a Mozart cafe, go on a Mozart-themed tour and listen to his celebrated music ad nauseam. No doubt I would’ve been able to pass a Mozart-shaped turd in a Mozart-themed toilet if such an urge had taken me. And, of course, if something isn’t Mozart themed, it’s probably got The Sound of Music stuck on it somewhere.
The exploitation of the musical genius, whose Requiem is my favourite piece of classical music, is tasteless but inevitable. A city needs to market its treasures to make it in the world of modern travel but when I was last in the city, some years ago during a snowy weekend with a friend, we went to one of the Mozart museums and it was just a bit average. So Graham and I didn’t bother this time round, and neither did we go anywhere to do with The Sound of Music despite it being a very good film. Salzburg, despite having a small town feel about it, has far more to offer.
It’s an historic place, friendly and attractive, and our airport taxi driver was clearly proud of his city, giving us an impromptu guided tour on the drive to our excellent Goldgasse hotel, the Am Dom. The streets of the UNESCO World Heritage-listed Altstadt are crammed full of marvellous shops, many of them independent, and it’s one of the most attractive shopping districts in Europe. Who can resist all the gorgeous shop signs, each one of them an excellent example of the blacksmith’s art? It’s just a shame that Austria these days is so full of right wing nutters and that the city feels so while and gratingly middle class after a while.
We arrived in the city to drenching rain and chilly winds. It was dispiriting, especially as we’d left 30-degree temperatures behind in London, but we had a quick wander round, dodged roaming bands of American holidaymakers of pensionable age and grabbed some lunch (sausage and sauerkraut) in a popular restaurant. That Friday evening saw the start of the Altstadt Festival and Linzer Gasse, one of the key shopping and nightlife streets, was full of crowds, outdoor bars and stages. We spent the evening soaking up the atmosphere after an excellent dinner at Johanneskeller, where the food was traditionally local but with a modern touch. On one stage a band pumped out 90s hits, while on another a group of pensioners donned dodgy wigs and suits as a Beatles tribute band and got us all singing and dancing. Very good they were too.
Saturday dawned hot and sunny and after a light breakfast at our hotel we made our way to the funicular that carries visitors up to the Hohensalzburg Fortress, the monumental grey and white castle that glowers over the city. When I visited before the weather was wintry and dull and we skidded our way round, while mist and low cloud obliterated the views. On this second visit, those views were exceptional. Below us lay gorgeous, compact Salzburg and its many church spires, and beyond lay the picture postcard mountains and green valleys of the Alps. The fortress doesn’t quite live up to the drama of its surroundings, at least those parts that are open to the public, but we wandered among the battlements, up winding stairs, through rooms once used by spiritual and secular leaders, the military and prisoners. The highlights were the extravagantly decorated 16th century state rooms but the accompanying audio guide was painfully long-winded and we had little interest in the militaria that filled many of the other rooms. The castle dates from the 11th century, although there’s archaeological evidence of much older settlement up on the hill, including Roman, and the curators have done a good job of peeling back many years of development to expose what remains of those times.
It was sweaty work traipsing up and down stairs to the view points and rooms, but nowhere near as hot and sweaty as the walk across the wooded hill known as Monchsberg, the one that crowds into the Altstadt below and on which the fortress perches. I got very hot and bothered until we stumbled across one of Salzburg’s more curious attractions, the Wasser Spiegel or water works. It was as cold as a penguin’s bum inside and all that air-con was very welcome indeed. For a few euros we viewed a giant reservoir that holds the city’s water and toured an exhibition about the history of water management in the area – yes it was that exciting. The exhibition is only in German so we wandered around with a look of bemusement, played a few videos and prodded some bits of equipment before emerging again into the heat.
Just a short walk away was M23, the Museum of Modern Art’s outdoor restaurant with great views over Salzburg and its river, the fortress and cathedral. We stopped for a relaxing lunch of Gruner Veltliner and Wiener schnitzel.
Back in town, next to said cathedral, sits the Residenz, the official city home of the Prince-Archbishops who ruled independent Salzburg until the early 19th century. The tour takes in the state rooms (good but there are lots of them), the neighbouring cathedral, various government offices, too much religious art and priceless church paraphernalia. By the end, I was on my knees with exhaustion and happy to shake off the staff, who followed us around with a faintly Nazi look on their faces as they tried to catch us taking illicit photos.
The Altstadt Festival continued all day and we managed to catch the last hour or so of music after a stodgy dinner of Central European stodginess. We drank and sang, although not as much as the many good-natured stag and hen parties, and finished the night drinking back at Johanneskeller, where it was a bit more relaxed…
It was quieter the following night – a Sunday. We spent the day at Schloss Hellbrunn and returned to Salzburg in the afternoon to find a wonderful market on the banks of the river. In the evening we settled into the modern Carpe Diem bar, watched the locals leaving church in surprisingly large numbers and then found a square filled with people watching the World Cup. Now football isn’t my thing but the beer certainly was…