We left Innsbruck at lunchtime
today for our ninety minute trip to Salzburg. Before leaving Innsbruck, we
managed one last trip up into the mountains to look down on the city bathed in
sunshine. Although the city itself was in full sun, the mountains behind us
were covered in thick fog, vindicating our decision not to take the cable car
to the top. By the time we were on the train, however, the fog had cleared
completely and we were able to see these most imposing peaks for the first time
since arriving. Looking up at these monsters, almost able to touch them they
appeared so close, is a little bit surreal. It’s as if they are keeping watch
over the city below, some ancient gods (well, I’ve no doubt that European
skiers worship them).
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The mountains rise above Innsbruck like sentinels guarding over the city |
The train from Innsbruck to
Salzburg takes you through some of the most spectacular rural scenery, it
really is like something out of a picture book. That’s the problem travelling
through Europe; every bend in the road or the track reveals something even more
breathtaking than the one before. It is very easy to start turning off, until
of course you remember you’re only here once and all you’ll have in a few weeks
are the memories, so you shake yourself out of your half-sleep and fix your
eyes once again out the window.
The trains in Austria in particular
are amazing. In typically Austrian fashion they are incredibly clean, fast and
punctual. You can also take whatever you like on board: beers, wines, a full
Austrian feast if that takes your fancy, and everybody is remarkable
comfortable with it. Speaking of drinking, we are incredulous at just how cheap
and plentiful alcohol is in this part of Europe. In Australia, you might go
down to the local milk bar to get bread, milk and maybe the paper. What you
could never buy would be alcohol. Over here, every little shop and supermarket
have beer and wine next to the bottles of coke and bottled water. In fact, the
bottled water is frequently more expensive than the beer. We have purchased 500
ml cans of beer for around 45 Euro cents, which is around 65 cents Australian.
But if you think this ubiquitous exposure to alcohol would translate directly
into alcohol abuse, you’d be wrong. We’ve not seen a single incidence of drunkenness
since we arrived. It would appear that it’s not the exposure and access to
alcohol which is the problem, rather the culture surrounding its consumption.
Take note Australia.
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Beautiful Salzburg, with a castle atop the hill (just about every European city has a bloody castle atop a hill) |
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A very pretty walking path along the Salzach River |
Now, this next part is going to
blow your socks off, so make sure you’re wearing some. We arrived at our
Salzburg hotel after about a ten minute walk from the station. On the whole,
our accommodation hitherto has been first rate, so when we arrived at our
Salzburg accommodation we were a little bit disappointed, based on its
appearance. The lady at reception was very welcoming and when we went to take
out our passports, something you must do in every European hotel, she insisted
she didn’t need to see them. ‘Are you sure’, we asked, ‘we’re from Australia’.
‘I know’, she said, ‘it’s written
here on the reservation’.
‘Do you have many Australians
staying’, we asked, trying to be friendly.
‘Not too many, maybe one’.
At this point I thought, great,
we’ve doubled her Australian contingent in one booking. She then went on to
say, ‘maybe, how do you say, one group per year’. Okay, so that made sense, she
has a tour group from Australia book each year.
‘So you have a group from
Australia?’, we said.
‘Yes, ah, Trev… um, I mean wick…,
sorry I can’t quite think straight’.
At this stage, and I don’t know
why, but my mind wanted to fill in some gaps that should never, in a thousand
lifetimes, have been there. I found myself saying if you put those two
utterances together you get ‘trev wick’, which sounds remarkably like someone
from Wangaratta who runs tours for cashed-up pensioners (well, I’m sorry, but
that’s pretty much the reality). The next thing which happened I could never
have believed had I not experienced myself, and even now I’m not sure I wasn’t
dreaming it.
‘Wanga, Wangaratta, he comes from
a place in Australia called Wangaratta. He brings a group of people from
Wangaratta.’ At this point, we almost went into cardiac arrest. We then
explained that we also came from Wangaratta (not the sort of thing I normally
confess to people when I travel), that we knew Trevor Wickham and that Alison’s
mother travelled with Trevor and, therefore, most likely had stayed in this
very same hotel.
I cannot help but attempt to do
the maths of how unlikely this coincidence can possible be. There are probably
three or four hundred hotels in Salzburg. Most of these, at some stage, would
have tour groups staying from all around the world. What would be the chance that
a hotel we picked totally at random from Trip Advisor would be the very same
hotel that a tour guide from our home city of Wangaratta would also pick for
his tours? And what would the chance be
that this piece of information would even come up in conversation with the lady
at reception?
We’ve experienced some amazing
coincidences in our travels, but this definitely takes the cake. I’m still
pinching myself to see whether I’m dreaming.
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Looking towards the older section of Salzburg |