I've heard it's a small world, but this is damn ridiculous

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).

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.

Beautiful Salzburg, with a castle atop the hill (just about every European city has a bloody castle atop a hill)

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.

Looking towards the older section of Salzburg