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Spurned by cats in the City of Dreams

semi-overcast 10 °C

I like Vienna from the word go. It's Sunday, sunny, and the city's residents are all out for a stroll. The buildings around me have an elegance and gravity that's not from this century nor even the one before. There is a similarity to Paris or even parts of London, and it's a similarity that is most pleasing. As a tourist fond of moseying in arbitrary directions, I can already tell that I will enjoy myself here.


The capital is ten times the size of Salzburg from a population point of view but doesn't really feel it. It's also surprisingly walkable and I rarely bother with the extensive (and excellent) public transport. Cyclists are still the menace that they were in Salzburg, with trams something else for the pedestrian to watch out for, but the width of the main roads mitigates against jaywalking.


At the heart of Vienna lies St Stephen's Cathedral (Stefansdom), a Gothic and Romanesque construction with an eye-catching multi-coloured tiled roof, one angle of which sports a double-headed eagle pattern. It's just metres away from a whole string of high-end luxury shops, the house of God facing off with Patek Philippe watches costing tens of thousands of euros. Nearby, despite a rash of cafés, is a worryingly busy McDonald's. It's impossible to forget that this is a 21st century European capital, yet that modernity has settled in around the city's history rather than obliterating it. There is something from the past round every corner.


Much as I enjoy the cathedral and the ludicrously overwrought Baroque interior of the Jesuit church, they are clearly of their respective ages and could never be mistaken for more recent creations. Similarly, the State Hall (Prunksaal) at the National Library, a truly awesome mixture of wooden panelling and vibrant ceiling frescos that ranks as an absolute must-see in Vienna, is a product of centuries past. I'm no architecture or design student but the one style that seems ageless to my eyes, wherever it occurs, is Art Nouveau, and the city has some peerless examples that I seek out.


Vienna's version of Art Nouveau was called the Secession. The movement had its own purpose-built exhibition hall, the distinctive white Secession Building topped with a dome of sculpted golden leaves and with walls bearing details such as three stone owls clustering together. This local flavour of Art Nouveau has left its mark throughout the city.


The Secession's most famous exponent arguably was the painter Gustav Klimt, with his most famous work being "The Kiss", an oil painting featuring gold and mosaic effects that looks strikingly modern over a hundred years on from its creation. It hangs as part of a small collection of Klimt's work in the Upper Belvedere, a palace whose decor is a fine example of the OTT Baroque era. I arrive at the Belvedere shortly after it opens and am able to admire the painting in the company of only a couple of other visitors - less than an hour later, the place is swarming with tour groups and it's difficult to get into the room, let alone within ten metres of where "The Kiss" hangs. The painting is one of the Vienna tourist industry's mainstays, with everything from snow globes to umbrellas bearing its image. I remember being slightly disappointed by the Mona Lisa when I visited Paris four years ago, as the painting, however iconic, just didn't move me in any way - for me, "The Kiss" possesses many more dimensions.


The architect Otto Wagner is another representative of the Secession but I'd be lying if I said I'd heard of him before I started planning this holiday. His works are dotted about Vienna and unerringly draw one's attention, from the silvery studded front of the Post Office Savings Bank to the wonderful floral details on Majolica House. The look of the latter in particular is distinctive but timeless, and reminds me of Gaudi in that respect (though not in style).


Perhaps Wagner's greatest masterpiece though is more off the beaten track. I travel to the western end of the U3 U-bahn line then strike out on foot. It's a dull suburban part of Vienna and the walk becomes even less appealing when a steady drizzle starts to fall. I trudge up a hill and past a cemetery, the graves looking bleak under a grey sky. Then it's through a residential area and into the grounds of a psychiatric hospital, where trees provide a bit of cover from the rain. There have been occasional glimpses of a golden dome through the trees and then, after labouring up another incline, there it is - Kirche am Steinhof, an exquisite little church with green and gold angel statues praying over the entrance.


The inside is equally gorgeous, with a clean design encompassing stained-glass windows, mosaics, and a gilt altar canopy ringed by angels' heads. Mindful of the congregation for which the church was intended, Wagner minimised the number of sharp edges in the interior, amongst other custom features. I spend an hour inside, marvelling. Many of the churches in Vienna are built in styles that can be seen elsewhere across Europe, but this place is unique and a gem. For anyone with even a vague interest in Art Nouveau, Kirche am Steinhof should not be missed.


The Secession is but one movement to have provided inspiration to architects and and artists in the city and I visit many other locations of interest. The sprawling Hofburg Palace was the winter residence for the Habsburg dynasty, and today is the official home of the President of Austria. It contains umpteen exhibitions, including the previously mentioned State Hall in the National Library. I carelessly don't notice that these all require separate tickets, thinking that everything is included in just one, and thus end up doing an audio-tour of the Imperial Silver Collection, Sisi Museum, and Imperial Apartments, none of which frankly would have been amongst my first choices. However there's always some interest available in seeing how royalty lived, even if much of the opulence and luxury is similar to that enjoyed by royal families the continent over. I learn that, at imperial dinners, guests were only allowed to speak to their immediate neighbours, and a course was considered finished only when the emperor put down his utensils. More intriguing is the napkin arrangement called the "imperial fold", a secret known only to a couple of people in the royal household even now, that was (and still is) used at state dinners for holding bread rolls. The Imperial Apartments are as awash with paintings, drapes, and ornate furniture as you would expect.


I supplement this brief immersion in royal life with a wander around the Upper Belvedere palace, built as a summer residence for Prince Eugene of Savoy, one of Austria's greatest military commanders at the end of the 16th and start of the 17th centuries. Though my main reason for visiting is the Klimt collection, I get another dose of frescos, sculptures and gilt decorations. By this point, I have seen enough of the high life, and my subsequent visit to the Schönbrunn Palace (the old summer residence of the Habsburgs) is simply to see its grounds.


On the subject of grounds, one great boon for Vienna's keep-fit enthusiasts is that the grounds of the Belvedere and Schönbrunn palaces are free to enter, and both resound to the steady crunching noise of joggers on gravel. Schönbrunn in particular looks like an excellent place to run, with plenty of flat paths but also a few climbs up to the Gloriette, from where there are views over the palace itself and to the city beyond. It's certainly a step up from my usual circuit in Northallerton through a housing estate. Though neither palaces' gardens have much in bloom at this time of year, there are still statues and trees and fountains to look at, as well as the buildings themselves.


The Viennese architectural scene has had some innovative additions even in the last few decades. The 1980s saw the construction of a couple of idiosyncratic buildings designed by the artist Friedensreich Hundertwasser. Hundertwasserhaus is an apartment block like no other, with a garden on the roof, trees growing out of the walls, uneven floors ("a divine melody to the feet", according to the man himself), a higgledy-piggledy multi-coloured facade, and few straight lines. The KunstHaus Wien nearby is an art gallery and museum in similar style, though somewhat toned down by comparison. Hundertwasser was inspired by the Secession movement but his architectural designs superficially seem to have little in common with the clean lines of Wagner's work.


Though the country obviously has a lot to offer in the way of landscapes, architecture, and culture, my main reason for first considering Austria as a holiday destination was Café Neko, one of the first cat cafés in Europe. Loving cats as I do, but with a flat that has insufficient room for one (and a lease that precludes them anyway), my cat interactions have been restricted to the occasional meeting with the suspicious neighbourhood cats in Northallerton. So the concept of a cat café, with the opportunity of meeting some cats whilst drinking a cup of coffee and munching on a slice of chocolate cake, is appealing indeed.


The café itself is a pleasant place to while away some time, down a small side-street not far from the cathedral. It's spacious enough for the cats (and customers) not to feel cramped, and there's a feline jungle gym, not to mention walkways and shelves up high on the walls so that the cats can survey their domain. There's a small selection of food and drink.


The cat population numbers five: cross-eyed and curious Thomas, two gorgeous Maine Coons, Luca and Moritz, a quiet tabby Momo, and black Sonia, whose bio on the menu warns that she is not for beginners due to her inflicting the occasional nip or scratch if she gets cheesed off. Sonia aside, they all seem even-tempered, and it's relaxing to watch them plodding about, sleeping, and sometimes scampering along the walkways.


However it would be difficult to describe them as friendly. I visit the café on three occasions, and on none of those visits does any of the five show the slightest interest in voluntarily interacting with the customers. I say "voluntarily" because some customers are quite happy to scoop a cat up, or stroke it while it's sleeping, but I never see a cat actually wander over to say hello to anyone. Thomas comes over to have a sniff around my bag, but he ignores my proffered hand and, when I move to stroke him, he doesn't look at me but gradually lowers his back so as to avoid the contact. I only want to meet cats on their terms, not mine, so I'm not going to just grab him and force him to put up with being stroked, but I can't help but feel a little disappointed that I'm so unappealing to him and his friends. I guess my expectations were that cats in a cat café would be interested in humans, but I suppose it's possible that they're simply fed up with us. Or maybe I just have an off-putting English smell.


Cafés, with or without cats, though, are very much a staple of Viennese culture. The concept of reading the paper whilst drinking a coffee, and spreading the activity over several hours, is firmly entrenched here. Though I tend to visit in the evenings in order to have dinner while writing up my journal, it's still a most pleasant environment - refined surroundings, waitstaff in uniforms, and no hassle whatsoever to get out when you've finished. The only slightly disturbing aspect is that, a couple of times, sellers of the local equivalent of the Big Issue come in to try to find custom - though I have no problem with them trying to make money, it's annoying when they don't take no for an answer. I'm not sure whether it's my friendly face, or the fact that I'm a foreigner, that encourages them to keep trying.


Though Vienna is famous for its coffee and pastries, I'm not a big consumer of either, and there are other elements of Austrian cuisine that attract me more. I'm not normally much of a meat eater but it's necessary to suspend that constraint in order to try a selection of traditional dishes - Schnitzel of various kinds, Zwiebelnrostbrat (beef with roasted onions), and Rindsgulasch (beef goulash) among them. Most of my custom for these goes to Phoenixhof, a restaurant that happens to be both near my hotel and extremely good. You can tell when an order for Schnitzel goes in, by the subsequent bout of hammering from the kitchen.


As a food-related aside, there doesn't seem to be a single decent Japanese restaurant in the city. In particular, there is nowhere selling proper ramen. I find this astounding - two million people in the city and yet not enough demand for even one genuine Japanese restaurant? Shame on you, Vienna.


My travels elsewhere have revealed that cemeteries can often be surprisingly interesting places, and Vienna has a whopper - Zentralfriedhof (Central Cemetery). It's enormous, so big that there are roads running through it and a local bus route stops at several places within. It's multi-denominational, including sections for Jews, Buddhists, Muslims, and all kinds of Christians, as well as the default Catholic section (this being a Catholic country). Though most of the graves don't possess the spectacle of those in, say, Recoleta, the sheer size of the place is awesome. There are many musical luminaries buried here, from Beethoven to Strauss (Younger and Elder) to Schoenberg, but the only one whose compositions are even vaguely in line with my own musical tastes is Hans Hölzel, better known as Falco, who had a couple of Top 10 hits in the UK in 1985 with "Rock Me Amadeus" and "Vienna Calling". His grave is a most peculiar construction, with a small obelisk standing next to a glass screen depicting the singer in a flowing robe.


Speaking of '80s music, for the first time in years I see a poster advertising an upcoming Roachford concert. A quick look at Wikipedia reveals that most of his chart success in the last decade has been in mainland Europe.


In recent years, Vienna has ranked at or near the top of many global surveys of quality of life. Though such surveys include factors that a traveller will only encounter tangentially (such as the standard of education, levels of political corruption, etc), there's enough evidence from just a week spent in the city to support these rankings. I don't see any crime (though that's true of most places I've visited in my life), however it says something that the luxury shops in the centre of Vienna leave their stock in the windows overnight - in London, expensive items would be stored away out of sight. Public transport is excellent, certainly better than the UK, and it appears to run on an honour system - the one time that a ticket inspection takes place while I'm on the U-bahn, no-one is caught without a ticket. Recycling bins can be opened using a pedal, so you never need to get your hands dirty. There's clearly an emphasis on cycling and other outdoor activities, though there are many more smokers than I would have expected and smoking regulations seem to be rather laxer than in the UK. And coming from the UK, where I can shop at a supermarket until at least 10PM every day of the week, it's frustrating to not have any supermarket access on Sundays or public holidays, and even when they're open it's only until 7:30PM or so.


If I were to consider living in Vienna, though, one of the factors of most interest to me would be the friendliness (or otherwise) of the local people, and that's not something I can draw any conclusions about after just a week here, as I have little meaningful interaction with anyone. One waitress I speak to says that the Viennese are not very nice at all, but in the next sentence she says that when she visited London she found the people there friendly and welcoming, which doesn't really tally with my experiences of both living in London for several years and visiting umpteen times as a tourist. Obviously, being a foreigner can sometimes work to your advantage and other times makes you a target - I would be inclined to think that the former would be the case in Vienna. Certainly in my time here I don't have any nasty experiences, but I can't really leave with anything other than a neutral view of the city's inhabitants.


All told though, Vienna is an excellent tourist destination. I don't get through even half of my to-do list and yet I still see enough sights that will stick in the memory. That's also without having much interest in either the classical music or theatre scenes in the city, which would no doubt consume considerably more time for fans of either. Vienna is rewarding for idle potterers - it's perhaps not as vibrant as Paris, albeit cleaner and safer than London, but there is so much to see even for visitors who don't want to spend their vacation in museums and art galleries. I had wondered beforehand if a week here would leave me bored, but that turns out to laughably understate what the city can offer.


However after a week my time runs out, as holidays are wont to do, and so it's back onto the train to return to Salzburg and thence England.


[I have some logistical information about visiting Vienna (and Salzburg) that is too dull to put in here, but if you want to read that then please visit my other blog.]


[I also took a lot more photos than just those shown here - you can see them at my Flickr account here.]


Posted by mohn 09:58 Archived in Austria Tagged vienna austria europe wien österreich Comments (0)

The sound of silence

Not one of Salzburg's favourite things

sunny 16 °C

Having read about a cat café in Vienna several months ago, and then uncovered a train ticket that would get me from London to Salzburg for £100 return, it was inevitable that this year's holiday was going to be to Austria. The country might not traditionally have been able to rely on the combination of food and felines to attract visitors, but in my case that was enough - the landscapes, architecture, and music would all be gravy. It would also give me the opportunity to resurrect my command of the German language which when last heard in 1987 was gaining me an O-Level. Would a quarter-century of non-use have left me merely rusty or completely unable to utter a coherent sentence?


Salzburg is in something of an Indian summer when I arrive, with the temperature a good ten degrees higher than normal for this time of year. This is not a state of affairs that pleases me, as I am very much a cold-weather person, but it's not something within my power to change. Fortunately I am a very slow sightseer at the best of times so I'm never reduced to a sweaty mess. Unfortunately I need to leave my room window open in order to keep the temperature at a decent level, which admits one or more mosquitos that enjoy snacking on English flesh at night. I must say that insect bites weren't an annoyance I was expecting in an alpine country at the tail-end of October.


The city is set in appealing surroundings on the banks of the river Salzach. Though the Alps proper start a dozen miles or so to the south, there are several small mountains within the city itself, providing viewpoints across Salzburg and the countryside nearby. On one of these mountains sits Festung Hohensalzburg, the hulking fortress which has been watching over the city for the best part of a thousand years. Autumn foliage covers the trees, providing a colourful background in the crisp, sunny air.


Though the fourth largest city in Austria, Salzburg is by no means a bustling metropolis, with barely 150,000 people calling it home. The old town is a magnet for both tourists and locals, a profusion of closely packed buildings with period charm. Its most famous street, Getreidegasse, is lined with shops whose wrought-iron signs contain objects indicating the type of merchandise being sold within - umbrellas, hats, traditional clothing. Even the McDonald's sign is of a piece with the rest of Getreidegasse, apparently after protests by locals at the usual golden arches. There's no shortage of churches, their steeples spiking up from the narrow streets below. The cathedral (or Dom), built in the early 17th Century, was designed to accommodate 10,000 people, which was more than the city's population at the time, but it's the funky ceiling in the smaller Franciscan church that most impresses me.


The Austrian Tourist Board claims that, for 70% of overseas visitors, "The Sound of Music" is their primary reason for coming to Salzburg. Though I could probably take a stab at singing most of the songs from the film (due to learning them for piano lessons in my youth), tracks like "Do-Re-Mi" and "Sixteen Going on Seventeen" are perfect examples of why musicals in general set my teeth on edge, and having seen the film once about 30 years ago I have no wish to ever see it again. Thus it is strange to me that the film has attracted such devotion from fans around the world and, prior to arrival, I am half-fearing that the city will be awash with Julie Andrews lookalikes trilling about the hills being alive.


But Salzburg does not seem to be exactly busting a gut to promote its connection with "The Sound of Music". Apart from a few posters advertising tours that visit locations seen in the film, I see - and hear - little else suggesting a link with the city. Not even the busking guitarist outside the Dom delves into the Rodgers and Hammerstein songbook, and he must surely be aiming for tourist custom. It's almost as though Salzburg wants to distance itself from the one thing that purportedly attracts the majority of its foreign visitors.


On the other hand, it could just be that the city would rather concentrate on its connection with one of music's giants (no offence to Rodgers and Hammerstein). As the birthplace of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Salzburg has not stinted on ways of keeping his name alive, over 200 years after his death. A statue of Mozart stands in Mozartplatz, there is a university called the Mozarteum, and the famous nougat/pistachio marzipan/chocolate concoctions known as Mozartkugeln are named after him. A Mozart Week is held every year around his birthday in January, featuring soloists and orchestras from around the world, and there is usually a good dollop of Mozart in the annual Salzburg Festival which runs for five weeks in the summer - the original festival hall has now been renamed the House for Mozart. Festivals aside, Mozart concerts can be attended most weeks - if not days - of the year at various venues around the city. A museum has been created in the house where Mozart was born, and a separate house where he lived later in life contains an exhibit about the man and his family. There's even a Mozart Cycle Path that takes in a loop beginning and ending in Salzburg, though I would imagine that more people arrive in the city at the airport that bears his name. And if none of that appeals, then how about a souvenir rubber duck wearing a Mozart wig?


Interestingly, it appears that Mozart himself was not that fond of Salzburg, disliking his employer, his wages, and the conservative attitude of its citizens - he much preferred Vienna. But while Salzburg's embrace of Mozart long after his death may have been with half an eye to commercialism, it is certainly not the only surprising aspect of his life - anyone reading the letters that he sent to members of his family may raise an eyebrow or two that the man often called a musical genius could have such a scatological obsession.


I'm not particularly interested in classical music so my own wanderings around the city are dictated little by Mozart's legacy, and instead it's the architecture that I focus on. It's a steep walk up to Festung Hohensalzburg but the views from the top in all directions are panoramic, even if the fortress interior doesn't require much time. One the way down, I pass a tour group on Segways. At the bottom of the same hill is St Peter's Cemetery, a small graveyard filled with well maintained plots that are available only on rental - if your descendants stop paying, then you'll be disinterred and dumped elsewhere. St Stefan's Cemetery on the other side of the river contains some grand tombs, though the graves of Mozart's father and wife are quite plain by comparison. I pass through Mirabell Gardens, containing the fountain at which "Do-Re-Mi" was sung in "The Sound of Music". The gardens consist of neatly manicured lawns and flower beds, with walkways dotted with statues, but at this time of year little is in bloom.


But most of my time is spent simply walking randomly around the city, observing and enjoying its compactness. Such idle pottering finds an ideal companion in Austrian café society, where sitting around for hours reading the paper is deemed perfectly acceptable. Salzburg has a selection of cafés all serving a variety of different coffees and confectioneries, and over the course of my stay I take the opportunity to sample a few slices of the famous Sachertorte whilst people-watching in Café Tomaselli. There's never any pressure from the waiters to drink up and go, regardless of how busy the place may be.


The act of simply walking around has a couple of unexpected quirks. There are cycle paths all over the city, some shared with pedestrians, and I have to condition myself to not make abrupt changes of direction whilst walking, for fear of getting a speeding front wheel somewhere painful. It also appears that jaywalking is either illegal or unpopular or both, as I encounter numerous situations where the red man is showing on the lights, there is no traffic within hundreds of metres, and yet no-one will cross.


There are Americans here in unexpectedly large quantities. I had thought it was an anomaly that there were two American school groups on my train from Frankfurt, however Salzburg itself contains many Americans, both tourist and resident. Of course it's possible that they stand out simply because they are speaking a language I understand, but even taking that into account there seem to be more of them than I would have predicted - and certainly there are more Americans than English people. On the language front, though I do bust out the occasional sentence in German (and then fail to understand the reply, unless it's a yes or no answer), in general my interactions take place in English, and I meet no-one whose English is worse than my German.


There are several other places from which to gain an aerial view of the city, apart from the fortress. On the way to Winkler Terrace, I pass the Felsenreitschule, a theatre carved out of the hillside in the place where the stone for the cathedral was originally quarried. It's not too stiff a climb to the terrace, which is clearly a popular spot for enjoying the cityscape presented by the old town to the east. Kapuzinerberg on the north side of the river offers a different aspect - I go there for sunset, though the atmosphere is not entirely peaceful due to the chanting that can be heard from below, football fans beering up in advance of a Red Bull Salzburg Europa League game.


My one excursion outside of the city is to Hallstatt, a small lakeside town that is the pride of the Salzkammergut region. It's a bus/train/ferry journey to get there, during which we pass picturesque alpine buildings set amongst lakes and mountains, as well as rivers flowing with beautifully clear water.


Hallstatt sits on a strip of land between the Hallstatter See and the Dachstein mountains. The hillsides surrounding the lake are covered in forests showing their autumn colours, and a steady sun streams out of the thinly clouded sky. The natural beauty of the setting combines with the quaintness of the wood-framed alpine houses to produce a chocolate-box scene. It doesn't take long to traverse the town, but there's plenty to enjoy on its streets, with a couple of striking churches and numerous appealing details - window-boxes packed with flowers, pikes' heads mounted on a wall, a mosaic of the town's coat of arms, cats of varying levels of friendliness.


Hallstatt's population is roughly a thousand people and it appears that most of its businesses are tourism-related. It's currently off-season and many of these businesses are closed, but there are still tourists aplenty. The vast majority are Chinese, visiting in tour groups consisting of dozens of people. I hate tour groups, wherever they're from, as they have a tendency to clog a place up, lacking the nimbleness and flexibility of people travelling in ones and twos. Such is the situation here. However it's more amusing than inconvenient that the only food-serving establishment in the town that attracts any attention from these tour groups is the small kebab stall near the ferry dock, at which there's a queue every time I walk by. The stall's owners no doubt can't believe their luck.


It's possible to take a funicular to the top of the mountain above the town, where I'm sure the views must be tremendous. There's also the entrance to a salt mine up there - this industry has been present in the region for thousands of years and is the reason for the "Salz" (German for salt) in the names of both Salzkammergut and Salzburg itself. Though I decide not to take the funicular, I content myself with walking up to the highest road in the town, from where I can look down onto the roofs and streets below.


After Salzburg, I spend a week in Vienna (blogged separately) before returning for a night. I stay in a hotel close to the station, convenient for an early train the next day, the first leg of my trip back to London. Though my hotel is the nicest that I've stayed in in Austria, both inside and out, it's in a neighbourhood that could hardly be more different from the parts of Salzburg that I've seen until now - there are a number of betting shops and a couple of sex shops nearby, and even more bizarrely it seems to be a ghetto for non-Europeans. Over in the old town, preparations are under way for the Christmas markets and a skating rink is being constructed in Mozartplatz. The winter season will soon begin.


One other thing about the hotel for my final night in Austria is that my bathroom contains an Austrian loo. I had read a great deal about these toilets in advance of the trip and had been hoping/dreading that I'd encounter one along the way. The defining feature of an Austrian loo is the shallow shelf that occupies the majority of the bowl, supposedly to allow easy inspection of one's doings - perhaps a habit worth getting into in a country where the cuisine is heavily based on meat, and hence has the possibility of ingesting parasites. I can't say I would particularly want to use one of these all the time (it's not too difficult to think of the reasons why).


This last night in Salzburg brings to a close my two weeks in Austria, my first visit to the country and in fact my first visit to any German-speaking nation (I'm not counting Namibia). It's been a similar experience in some ways to my other European trips - lots to see, the excitement of somewhere new, and an ease of travel not much different to my own country. But like those other European trips, it has also lacked the sense of adventure that accompanies roaming around somewhere like China, where there's an element of mystery to ostensibly mundane activities such as a bus journey or ordering food in a restaurant. It's been four years since I was last outside of Europe, and though the urge to return to Asia is not yet a full-blown ache, it's definitely giving me the occasional pang.


[I have some logistical information about visiting Salzburg (and Vienna) that is too dull to put in here, but if you want to read that then please visit my other blog.]


[I also took a lot more photos than just those shown here - you can see them at my Flickr account. I have separate sets for Salzburg, Hallstatt, and Bad Ischl.]


Posted by mohn 13:33 Archived in Austria Tagged salzburg hallstatt austria europe österreich Comments (0)

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