In short Salzburg is inescapably beautiful. The presence of the mountains standing over and around everything is a constant, glorious feature. Add the old, stylized buildings, walk the streets and it is like being in the past or a character in a novel.
We didn't have much time so we didn't get to see a lot. One surprise was the Salzburg Panorama Museum. In the early 1800's Johann Michael Sattler decided to paint a panorama of Salzburg as it looked from atop the castle. He did this before photography so he must have had an excellent mental image of the city because there is enough photograph-like detail in it to see many aspects of daily life in 1829 Salzburg. It is displayed in a round room so you can stand and imagine yourself on top of the castle looking at it through what Douglas would call "history goggles". Also on display are his many cosmoramas - paintings of various cities throughout the world which he painted so that those who could not travel could still see Cairo, Syria, the Hudson in the United States, Mecca, Athens, and many more foreign places. Unfortunately we were not allowed to take photographs in this museum.
We visited Mozart's birthplace and saw the tiny 3-4 octave piano on which he composed The Magic Flute. We learned that his sister Maria Anna was also an accomplished pianist playing many concerts and recitals, but as a female was "encouraged" to marry rather than pursue a career.
The Salzburg Cathedral is lavishly ornate with many chapels, five sets of organ pipes (four smaller and one grand set in the back) and carvings and paintings everywhere. You can descend into the catacombs to see not only what you'd expect to see, but a small collection of day of the dead style shadow art.
Douglas wasn't feeling very well after lunch (too much strudel) so I ventured into the Hohensalzburg Fortress alone while he stayed out in the fresh air. On the lower floor was a marionette museum which is either charming or terrifying depending on how you feel about things like clowns. Upstairs I saw a collection of torture implements (it seems like you can't go to any of these old cities without seeing some good old torture devices), antique musical instruments, swords and guns (not to be confused with the implements of torture) and a few rooms set up the way they would have been back in the day. This is when my prince comes into the story. Not Douglas. He was still downstairs getting some fresh air, though, as there was a front moving in (more on that later) he would have been fine in these breezy rooms with the windows open. An older guard pointed to a closet or cabinet - looking structure and asked me, with a gleam in his eye, if I knew what was hidden in it. I took a guess. Something to heat the room? "No, my princess." he replied. "Guess again." "A toilet?" Wrong again. He told me to look around the room to see what was there then return and try again. I did and then guessed a closet. Nope. He then made a dramatic production of unlinking the chain that held back the masses and allowed me - just me - to go back and look to see what it contained. He made me promise to not be angry with him when I realized how disappointing it was to discover its contents. I promised. It was enclosed on three sides by two by fours, but I could see a bit through the cracks and within it hung a bat - a stuffed bat. But that wasn't it. There was a staircase just visible in the corner that spiraled down. That was what was hidden in/under this closet-like place. He then took me on a short, private tour. He made a show of pulling from his pocket a key which opened a window through which one could peek into the private gardens of the monks. "No one but the monks can go there, ." He said. 'Except through this window with their eyes.' This man loves his job. He then showed me the famous red marble of Salzburg and a shape in some of the decorations. "Do you know what that is, my princess?" He asked me. "It looks like a turnip." I answered. He was delighted. "That's right. Now come with me." He took me to one of the ornate ceramic stoves used for heating and showed me first his "favorite turnip" then a figure holding something in his hand that looked like a drinking vessel. He asked me if I knew what was in it. "Beer?" I guessed. "No, not liquid. Something essential to the diet." "Wheat?" Nope. I slowly put two and two together and guessed salt. Actually I guessed "salz" which is salt in German. My prince was impressed. (He was fairly easy to impress.) He was a charmer. I wish everyone enjoyed their work as he does.
The Monk's private garden.
The ceramic stove with my prince's favorite turnip.
It was raining steadily and we were a little crowd weary so we decided to return to the hotel, which was on the outskirts of Salzburg, for dinner. The bus that brought us into Salzburg was either an apparition or only ran into the city. We looked and looked, walking, passing bus stop after bus stop finally making our way (did I mention it was raining now?) to the main train and bus station where we were told where to catch another bus which would take us to yet another bus. (My skirt was wet nearly to my knees.) This was about six bus stops from where we stood - in the direction from whence we'd come. Sigh.
Moral of the story: if you go to Salzburg beware of Bus #120.
That was Saturday.
Sunday we drove to see the Hellbrun gardens. This is a delightful little place that Prince Archbishop Sittikus had built. This was a man with a sense of humor. He had trick fountains installed throughout the gardens. While his unsuspecting guests were leisurely strolling admiring the flowers he'd push a secret button or turn a magic key and snarf someone would get a shot of water in the face. After the garden tour his guests were not safe seated at the picnic table (you'd think the hole in each of the seats would have clued them in) because he would give them a shot in the fanny as they ate. (His seat remained dry.) He had a tiny theater with figures that moved about to the strains of organ melodies powered by, what else, water.
It was just a short walk to the zoo from Hellbrun so we walked there. The zoo holds special memories to Douglas's family; his parents and he were there together when he was about 20. Douglas remembers seeing a bird called a Beo bird. As they stood looking at it he said, "I wonder why it's called a Beo bird." Just then the bird turned its head and said "Beo." They all shared a good laugh and carry the story to this day.
Alas, we did not see the infamous Beo bird. We did, however, get quite a show. Some of the animals were particularly amorous that day. It began with the Pumas. We couldn't quite see them (not that we were really trying) but we could hear them. And we knew what they were doing. I guess, judging by the sounds they were enjoying it - hard to say, I'm not a Puma. After a few minutes the female came strolling down the hill. The male trotted behind. He must not have been, um, finished as he was pawing at her. She'd snarl at him. She'd had enough. He rubbed her. Swipe! She wasn't having any more of it. He tried one time too many and she let go a growl that nearly made the spectators scatter. Then it was the monkeys. (I'm sorry, I don't remember which kind - one of the small breeds.) No pictures - I do have my limits - and no big story here, just doing what nature calls us all to do. But the lions . . . they were entertaining. They were just barely out of sight. Again we could hear them. There were lots of contented growls. This time, after a few minutes, it was the male that walked away. The female followed, passed him then fell sprawled on her back in front of him. Apparently she had not had enough. They were decent about it. They took it behind a rock, but we could still see her paws up in the air! I didn't think cats did it like that I guess that's what I get for being raised in the city.
Sunday we drove to see the Hellbrun gardens. This is a delightful little place that Prince Archbishop Sittikus had built. This was a man with a sense of humor. He had trick fountains installed throughout the gardens. While his unsuspecting guests were leisurely strolling admiring the flowers he'd push a secret button or turn a magic key and snarf someone would get a shot of water in the face. After the garden tour his guests were not safe seated at the picnic table (you'd think the hole in each of the seats would have clued them in) because he would give them a shot in the fanny as they ate. (His seat remained dry.) He had a tiny theater with figures that moved about to the strains of organ melodies powered by, what else, water.
It was just a short walk to the zoo from Hellbrun so we walked there. The zoo holds special memories to Douglas's family; his parents and he were there together when he was about 20. Douglas remembers seeing a bird called a Beo bird. As they stood looking at it he said, "I wonder why it's called a Beo bird." Just then the bird turned its head and said "Beo." They all shared a good laugh and carry the story to this day.
Alas, we did not see the infamous Beo bird. We did, however, get quite a show. Some of the animals were particularly amorous that day. It began with the Pumas. We couldn't quite see them (not that we were really trying) but we could hear them. And we knew what they were doing. I guess, judging by the sounds they were enjoying it - hard to say, I'm not a Puma. After a few minutes the female came strolling down the hill. The male trotted behind. He must not have been, um, finished as he was pawing at her. She'd snarl at him. She'd had enough. He rubbed her. Swipe! She wasn't having any more of it. He tried one time too many and she let go a growl that nearly made the spectators scatter. Then it was the monkeys. (I'm sorry, I don't remember which kind - one of the small breeds.) No pictures - I do have my limits - and no big story here, just doing what nature calls us all to do. But the lions . . . they were entertaining. They were just barely out of sight. Again we could hear them. There were lots of contented growls. This time, after a few minutes, it was the male that walked away. The female followed, passed him then fell sprawled on her back in front of him. Apparently she had not had enough. They were decent about it. They took it behind a rock, but we could still see her paws up in the air! I didn't think cats did it like that I guess that's what I get for being raised in the city.
Another glorious view of Salzburg.
No comments:
Post a Comment