Sixty in Salzburg

I really wanted to call this piece A Sexagarian in Salzburg but as that sounded a bit like a porn movie, I decided discretion was the better part of valour and opted for a tamer title! It is, of course, merely a travelogue of my journey to a beautiful European city as I made the transition from my fifties to my sixties.

Why Salzburg, you may wonder. It had been my plan to tick off a long-held wish to go western style riding in Arizona or Colorado for my Big Birthday, but my other half gently pointed out that a February birthday is not very conducive to that. Looking at the likely temperatures it did seem wise to shelve that idea for the time being.

Shortly after reluctantly abandoning that plan, while sorting through piles of my parents’ memorabilia (following their downsizing move into an assisted living apartment), I came across a carefully preserved bundle. Mum and Dad had been to the Salzburg Festival in the summer of 1963 when she was three months pregnant with me. They had kept every memento from that visit – every ticket to every performance, receipts from cafes and bars, programmes, brochures, the travel agency documents, insurance, the lot!  It was notable that among all their piles of stuff there was no other holiday memorabilia from other destinations over the intervening years had been cherished like this. This was clearly something special. I found myself moved and felt the serendipity of discovering these treasures sixty years on and just a few weeks before my significant birthday. Looking through the old leaflets it struck me that it looked like a lovely city and that it would be rather nice to retrace sone of their steps.

Mum and Dad’s love of opera was a feature of my early years. My Godmother was a retired opera singer, Nora Gruhn, who they met during that Salzburg holiday and had taken them under her wing. Evidently, they considered christening me Pamina, as The Magic Flute was such a favourite. And one of my earliest memories was the banter between my Dad and Mum’s younger brother who lived with us for a while when he was a young man. An avid Elvis fan, Uncle Alex would say “Who’s the king, Jane?” and I would answer “Elvis” – until Dad asked me the same question and I would dutifully reply “Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart”. Though not an opera fan myself, I do like classical music and Mozart has always been my favourite composer, possibly down to that early indoctrination!

We promptly booked the trip for my birthday weekend. The Big Day conveniently falling on a Saturday, we duly flew out from Stansted early on the Friday morning.

Flying over immaculately ordered surrounding villages and landing among ice-capped peaks, I was already smitten before we left the airport. The flight was a remarkably short 1.5 hour hop so we were already checked into Pension Herbert and having coffee and gluten free torte nearby at 11am!

Following the advice of Herbert, we took a short bus ride out to a nearby mountain and headed up in a cable car to the summit of Untersberg where we crunched and slid across the snow in unsuitable footwear, peered over into Germany and descended in time for a picnic lunch and a snooze!

In the evening, we hopped onto the bus outside the hotel and took the 10 minute journey in the other direction and into the centre of the city. Reflected in the river, the old city with its fortress above looked magical. The weather was remarkably mild for early February, so we walked around,  then sat outside a bar for a while before heading to Elefant for an excellent meal. My gluten free veal schnitzel was amazing.

The big day

We got off to a brilliant start with an unexpected bottle of birthday fizz for breakfast courtesy of our wonderful hosts, Herbert and his son Alexander. Then we headed back into the centre of town. Naturally I was calling the shots, so after a quick coffee I made a beeline for the horse-drawn carriages and we went for an informative tour of the sites to the sound of Jasmine and Franz’ hooves. Our Steptoe-like driver was an entertaining character who could hold his own bantering in English. Showing them photos and video on my return, Mum told me she had done this with (Aunty) Nora all those years ago and she had laughed till she cried at her stories. Dad recalled that meanwhile he was in the Festival office trying to get an extra ticket for one of the performances. They can’t recall what they had for lunch most days yet could fondly remember their 1963 trip in such detail.

Next up for us in 2024 was the funicular, for a quick foray round the fortress, taking in the museum and the lovely panoramic views of the city below and the surrounding mountains. Back down again, lunch featured a steaming bowl of divine soup at Zipfer Bierhouse.

In the afternoon, again in the steps of Mum and Dad, we went to the puppet theatre. Different performances are shown on different days, so serendipity was clearly at work again, as on my birthday we were able to see Die Zauberflote (The Magic Flute). The hour long edit of the full opera began with a fabulous prelude which showed the puppet-masters with the puppets, dressing them for the show, illustrating their diminutive size which you soon forgot as the masters faded into the darkness and the puppets began their illusory performance. It was quite amazing and we were both captivated. Pamina, my almost namesake, was wonderful, obviously!

Our evening meal later was at Sternbrau, one of Salzburg’s breweries and featured an amazing Salzburg dessert speciality, nockerl.

On Sunday we explored the city more. Some of the galleries and museums were closed as we were there so early in the season but there was still plenty to do. Naturally Mozart’s birthplace museum was on my list, and fortunately open. It almost felt almost like hallowed ground and a very humbling experience. I hadn’t realised that Mozart has no descendants, so the genius died with him. And from there to the beautiful cathedral. Late lunch was at Salzburg’s answer to Betty’s, Café Tomaselli and in the evening we crossed the river to the other side and had a fabulous authentic meal at Barenwirt.

Monday was our final day but as our flight was not until late afternoon we were able to enjoy a last trip into town in time for the daily carillon of the 35 18th century glockenspiel bells from the Residenz.Palace. Then it was time for a spot of shopping for gifts – of course from our favourite coffee spot, Konditorei, for the famous MozartKugel – yes, that’s chocolate balls to you!

Oh, and of course, it would be churlish not to indulge in a meaningful memento of the trip, and I managed to persuade Mark to treat to me a beautiful yellow hat from Hutmacher Zapf. It may have cost the same as three nights at Pension Herbert, but it is a beautiful treasure.  At this point a word must also be said of Mark’s sterling ‘tour guide’ efficiency in getting us around the city, managing to communicate and seeking out gluten free fayre. He’s a keeper. I won’t mention the repeated difficulty with the bus doors and bus stops which were only a minor and quite amusing blip.

Second only to Venice, Salzburg was, for me, the best city birthday break trip I can remember, having done several over the years. For me it surpassed Paris, Amsterdam, Bruges and Prague. I hadn’t realised until we got there that it is a World Heritage Site, but you can see why. Nowhere did I see high rise modern buildings or any unsightly and rundown areas off the main drag. It truly is a beautiful city that the residents are rightly proud of. Yes, it is a tourist attraction but never was it tacky.

Pension Herbert was a great budget place to stay. Clean, spacious and comfortable with proper furniture, none of the soul-less MDF of chain hotels. Herbert himself was entertaining and pleased to offer us a choice of PG Tips or Tetley tea for breakfast. We have set him straight on that with a box of Yorkshire Tea on our return to Blighty. The only downside was the complete absence of a kettle or any beverage-making facilities in the room which fazed us a bit but we didn’t raise it with him. I suspect he would have conjured them up had we done so.

We had not expected much of the food – Austrian cuisine is hardly lauded, yet we found it was consistently outstandingly good. If you’ve never been, add I’d suggest adding Salzburg to your bucket list; I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Any why wait till you’re 60?!