02 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.
08/02 Salzburg, Austria
As we approached Salzburg the clouds parted and the sun came peaking through, signaling that a good day was ahead of us. In one of the travel guides there was an interesting youth hostel alongside a casino. I knew from my last visit to Salzburg, that the hostel had to be on the cliff overlooking the old city. Once our train arrived we headed straight toward a phone and contacted the hostel to see if rooms were available. Good news but we had to be quick because they did not take reservations. We wandered about the city until we reached the elevator to the casino. After a short wooded walk, we passed through a stone wall and ended up in front of one of the most beautiful views of the city. We sat out front and absorbed our view while we waited to claim ourselves a bed. Once they opened the doors, we got settled and it was off to see Salzburg. I ended up making a full circle and watched the sunset from the forest between the castle and the hostel. As it started to get dark I headed back towards our private view. The view from our balcony was a spectacular arrangement of colored lights. I was toting a bottle of wine from my city trek and it was enjoyable to have a glass in hand, a comfortable chair, the view and of course, conversation in good company. At that moment in time I could not image another place I’d rather be.
Nectarous wine, taking on another life beyond the vine,
from your lips of character, red and pure as spring, beckons me in, to hear you sing,
inhaling your delicate perfume, through my eyes, this flavor now fills the room
I woke up early and headed down into the city for a cup of coffee. I sat there wondering what it would have been like if I grew up in a place like this. Would that city have shaped me differently? By the second cup of coffee I began reminiscing on my own obstacles, identifying the crossroads I had approached and the turns I had chosen. I discovered at a young age that expressing differences, standing outside the walls that protect our normalcy, could place you on the outside looking in. A group of kids can unknowing be cruel, or enjoy it with a passion. I quickly adjusted and blended in but in doing so I took on the characteristics of the group. Not that that’s a bad thing, it just wasn’t always me. Along the river I learned that I am unique. All my faults, what I laugh at, all the choices I’ve made and those who have entered my life, contribute to who I am. I have learned that I don’t just carry memories in my heart. They are a component of my heart. They are a part of who I am.
We had earmarked today as a field trip day. I had my mind set on visiting Hitler’s estate but everyone else wanted to do the “Sound of Music” tour, so I went out on my own. It was difficult to merge the beautiful scenery with the history being presented and to come away with a single picture. We met up that evening over Chinese food which is a meal I always consider more sociable since sharing entrées is common place. The two young ladies and Jim returned with an Englishman who spent half the meal explaining why he feels sharing food is barbaric. His criticisms just rubbed me the wrong way. If it wasn’t the waiter, it was the food, or the clothes people wore. His criticized never seemed to end. The only positive words he offered were about himself. He really did liked himself and had the girls eating right out of his hand. Not literality, he probably would have considered licking disgusting, you know bacteria.
Our English gentleman managed to persuade the group to accompany him to one of the bars he frequently visited, giving us the impression that his name was etched somewhere on the wall of the restaurant. This luxury required us to trek through a tunnel exiting the old city of Salzburg to the other side of the mountain. When we reached his bar, without a reservation they could not accommodate us. The only option on this side of the mountain was to trek the long walk back. The bar I suggested would most surely have patrons below his class level, so instead of subjecting the group to his criticism we hit up a local liquor store and purchased a couple bottles of wine. We headed back up to the Hostel to continue where we left off the night before. About halfway through the first bottle one of our Texas maidens was surrendering to the Englishmen’s advances. I relaxed into the bottle of wine and just watched everybody do their own thing. Even Jim was seeking a Texan surrender. Eventually I crawled of to bed to catch up on some sleep. That time I shared a bunk bed with a kid who moved around all night long. His bed squeaked so much it sounded like an orchestra of crickets, not good for somebody seeking sleep. His crickets incorporated themselves in my dreams.
