Soggy and satisfied in Salzburg
Into every traveler’s life, a little rain will fall. I’ve been to Seattle several times and always had beautiful, sunny weather, so I was due for a soaking at some point, and I got it nearly every day during a week in Munich, Germany. Your duchess even relented and wore a plastic poncho in public one night on the way to a dance performance—it was unfashionable, but the best way to avoid shivering and dripping all over the person in the seat next to me.
Of course, there is no shortage of indoor adventures to be had in Munich, but I also intended to take a few day trips during the week. Salzburg, in particular, was a legendarily lovely town that I did not want to miss. After an easy train trip (you’ve got to love the efficiency of the German rail system), I emerged in Austria, umbrella in hand.
If you didn’t know that Mozart was born in Salzburg, you’ll quickly realize it when you look around the town. Someone caught the marketing bug pretty hard in Salzburg, and as a result, Mozart’s bewigged mug stares at you from all manner of souvenirs, particularly the ubiquitous branded chocolates. As touristy affectations go, it’s fairly amusing, and there’s a quaint charm to having twinkling little symphonies following you around a town.
Of course, I popped into the Mozart birthplace museum. It’s a tiny house, and I tagged along behind a German tour group, letting my complexion, height, and hair color allow me to blend in with a crowd. The additional soundtrack of the steady rain lent a romantic tone to the story of Mozart and his family’s humble beginnings.
And the band played on: I stopped for coffee and had an outdoor cafe nearly to myself, watching the horse carriages plod gamely through the main square, all the while serenaded by a string quartet. The town itself seemed to be showering, brocaded buildings simply coming clean in the rain. I took a long walk through St. Sebastien’s cemetery, watching a toddler in a slicker jump through puddles and coveting her boots. The university garden also provided a beautiful spot for a stroll, the beauty of roses triumphant through the deluge.
Finally, I stopped for one last coffee break by the river. The spot had typical Austrian grandeur, all crystal chandeliers and suited businesspeople, a perfectly civilized afternoon. Even in the rain, no one seemed in a hurry—the city seems coated in a wave of cool calm. Soggy and satisfied, I lingered quite awhile over that last cafe mit schlag, in absolutely no rush to be anywhere else.Add a comment