Day 24 - Salzburg

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Day 24
Thursday, July 24
Rothenburg ob der Tauber is a great place for a curious traveller like me to visit.....for a day. If the town didn’t have that spectacular Medieval Criminal Museum, I am certain I could have been off the train, walked around town and back on the trail and off to anywhere in about an hour. Also, if I happened to visit on a day tarnished with clusters of dark clouds or sputtering rains, the place would probably not be worth visiting at all. However, I enjoyed myself while I was there and now it was time to go. Thus, as I sat in the cafeteria surrounded by cackling krauts and crunching on a mouthful of Quaker Harvest Oats cereal I pondered my next move. With the bible at hand, I picked the brains of my breakfast companions, Heidi and Carissa. I would not be following the two ladies as they were heading north. Offering a suggestion, the pair recommended Salzburg. Coincidentally, Veronica and Melanie, the two hootch-smoking hombres I met in Amsterdam also told me to check out the Austrian city. Yet, as I read on I was drawn to this placed called Fussen.

Fussen sounded like the perfect chanced to further enhance my multinational culturalization. Why? Firstly, it was surrounded by a series of spectacular castles. Within town there was the Hohes Schloss (High Castle) and just outside the walled city sat Neuchwanstein and Hohenschwangau castles. As I read on, I learned that Neuchwanstein was one of the most visited castles in all of Europe. Created by the loony Bavarian King Ludwig II, Neuchwanstein Castle was the inspiration of the trademark castle in Walt Disney’s Magic Kingdom. I visited Disneyland when I was a kid and have always wanted to check out the original thing. Unfortunately, a quick phone call placed to the youth hostel dashed my hopes. The goofy voice on the other end said it was fully booked. So I took what was hiding behind door number 2, Salzburg.

Before I continue, I must mention what occurred last night. It was about two in the morning when I floundered into cot in my familiarly drunken state. Being smashed, my stumbling and jostling just happened to wake the guy sleeping in the bunk across from me. Like an animated jack-in-the-box, upon hearing my racket, the excited young lad instantly sprang up. He insisted to know if I were a Canadian. I gave the blurry traveller a drunken ‘thumbs up’ and mumbled “Ya, eh”. I vaguely recall hearing a series of follow-up questions, however I am certain my response was incomprehensible as I was approaching a divine state of alcohol induced comatose. Now that I think of it, the incident was incredibly odd. This guy virtually creamed himself upon discovering another English-speaking person. He was probably the most homesick person I have ever seen.

James was a native of Victoria, B.C. on a three week tour of Europe. He had a keen interested in German culture and wanted to spend his vacation immersed in it. After two solid weeks not speaking English at all, I think he was starting to drown from their incessant guttural nattering. I cannot remember where he was going but as soon as saw the flag sewn onto my backpack, his plans were altered. His thirst for english caused him to ask (beg) if he could join me on my trek to Austria. He would not accept no for an answer. So we bid adieu to Heidi and Carissa, James strapped his pack on and we jumped on the first train heading south.

As the train chugged along, we meandered in and out of a chain of villages. Staring out the window, I noticed an odd similarity between each town. Every community we passed had a cross-topped steeple anchoring the main square. I would estimate that we went through by about ten to fifteen towns on our ride. It was during my wonderfully blissful blank stare into nothingness when I was enthused with an incredible zap of brain power. By nailing two sticks together, bolting on a statue of a guy who was once tacked to a cross and then hoisting it atop a high rooftop is what maintained order and civility within each of these communities for almost two millennia? A statue of a king or queen didn’t do the trick. Legions of goose stepping soldiers and militia common to the area helped enforce order but it was always at the end of the barrel of a harquebuse. Whether it is by faith, fear or guilt, the guy on the plus sign was able to keep these folks in line. An impressive fact indeed.

As we wound our way through the approaches and valleys I was blown away by the scenery. It was probably the first time in my life where my waking eyes just could not keep shut. I didn’t even blink. Any closure would count as self-deprivation. The landscape was that beautiful. The city of Salzburg lies in the neap of a valley and is surrounded by towering mountains. The colour green is predominant. A gentle river eased its' way through the centre of town, bisecting it. The city was named as a “World Heritage Site” by UNESCO. I think this means that the place is rather old and if you are interested where the heritage of the world started, it is somewhere here. When our train arrived at the central station we were given a glimpse of why UNESCO made that declaration. Curling along the edge of the River Salzach, a length of ornate buildings provides the ambiance of 19th century Europe. Narrow streets lined with boutiques and tourist shops feed off the main thoroughfares that traverse the core of the city. The tight fit between the buildings create an intimate atmosphere, thus further allowing you to picture how life was really like within the old city hundreds of years ago. After this quick peak, I was really looking forward to giving Salzburg a closer look.

Here is an interesting tid-bit of popular entertainment history related to Salzburg. The Sound of Music, every sap’s favourite Nazi sing-song flick, was filmed in the area. As I looked around at the sights, I left like being trapped within a psychedelic induced haze, and imagined being one of those von Trapp kids. Tapping my toe to the rhythmic melody of Edleweiss, I would drift in and out of dreamy sequences whereby I would be frolicking about as I climbed every mountain, sang peppy songs about the local youthful female forest creatures and snappy ditties about a few of my favourite things. Then as I banged the nun sixteen going on seventeen times, suddenly I would wake up, covered in sweat, a throbbing heart rate and a hoarse voice. Why is it that all my dreams recently somehow end with having sex with taut Austrian broads? Maybe I just need to get laid soon.

Upon arrival at the train station, James and I looked for the night’s accommodations. I had a reservation at the central youth hostel and he did not. As you may recall, James only decided to tag along with me to Salzburg during the train ride. Maybe it was the fact that I boasted to him that I rarely booked a place to stay before arriving in a city and I had not yet had to sleep under a park bench. I assured him that everything would be fine. So, the pair of us ferreted out my chosen hostel and looked to claim a spot for James as well. Of course, upon our arrival, I still had my reservations and he still did not. In the end, James used up his pile of kraut coins and called every hostel in town. Luckily, he found some available space at a place located someone on the other side of town. I took a chance, agreed to abandon my guaranteed spot and followed him to Naturhaus.

The decision turned out to be a good one. My new digs were situated at the edge of a mountain cliff overlooking the old city. From the cliff-side cafe connected to the hostel, we were also provided with a fabulous view of the formidable Hohensalzburg Fortress. The Naturehaus was greatly different than my planned hostel. Although my reservations were booked at “One of the Five Best Hostels in Europe”, I choose to stay at a relatively unknown establishment. It turned out to be a wise choice. A local couple purchased and then renovated an abandoned watchtower that was formerly a part of the outer-defences of the nearby fortress. The watchtower was transformed into a traveller’s hostel with accompanying restaurant. And the best part of the hostel....the weiner schnitzel. Wow! Here was the setting. We took a table on the restaurant patio that overlooked the beautiful storied city of Salzburg; the fortress stood off in the distance, surrounded by mountains and was served a local delicacy that proved to be truly delectable. To top it off, three cute young Yanks decided to join us for dinner. It was a wonderful experience.

We followed our meal with an apres-shcnitzel walk down to the heart of the city. James, our three new friends and I descended from our mountain retreat in search for dessert. Oh, speaking of the newfound companions (whose names currently escape me); there was one particular female who had an incredible smile. It was one of those smiles that cause men to melt. (Even a manly man like myself.) Although she will never know that she made the book, she should be happy to know that her cheery nature was enough to get her permanently enshrined in these hallowed pages. Back to food. These girls showed their true American colours with an eerie, almost fanatical craving for ice cream. Nothing could get in the way of their quest for Haggen Daas. Following the spectacle of watching my new Yank friends devour monstrous scoops of vanilla ice cream cones with raspberry sauce like voracious raptors, we continued on to explore the city.

Our troupe walked off our excess in a quick tour of two key sites. Our first stop was Mozart’s Square. As Salzburg is the hometown of Mozart, to commemorate the fact that he was spat out within the lovely confines of their storied city they put up a statue of him. We approached, looked up at it and then continued on our way. Following that overwhelming sense of accomplishment, we continued onto the Hellbrun Palace. Unfortunately, the spacious park and elegant gardens were closed by the time we arrived at the site. While we were peering through the gates and admiring the gardens, the heavens decided that they had enough with our pointless touring and poured down upon us. With a spiteful torrent, the rains forced us to search for a way out of the wet and back up to our cliff-side hostel home.

Although it wasn’t the most exciting evening in Europe, we salvaged some of the spirit when we gathered around a couple of tables in the restaurant of the hostel. Sipping creamy hot chocolate and enjoying a pleasant relaxed conversation the evening turned out to be exactly what I was looking for. What a wonderful end to another day in my course of my journey. New friends, an incredible city and total relaxation…I could not ask for more.

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