The lovely River Salzach runs right thorough the center of the town, which is bordered on both sides by hills and mountains. I hear that the old fortress is filled to overflowing with Nazi troops. Salzburg is a town of music. A foreigner visiting here is fully aware of it. There are mementos of Mozart all over town, including a statue, a bridge, and the home of his parents. I stopped at a café house for some coffee and cakes, as a much-delayed luncheon, and then wandered to the Kurhaus — the Mirabell Schloss (Palace) and the peaceful Mirabell gardens. The sun was shining brightly and everyone seemed so happy and carefree. It was a joy just to wander in and out, by fountains and shady paths, past children playing and artists painting pictures. Almost everyone stared at me, especially the children. It is probably because of my military-style suit, once more.
My eyes are tired from trying to take it all in. At my hotel, I have arranged for “half pension” (that is, a room with breakfast and dinner.) At 8 p.m., I will descend the stairs, to dine at the “Speisesalle.”
Date: September 18, 1938
Place: Salzburg
Weather: Noch Wunderschon.
TIMELINE: There is a meeting in London, at which British and French Cabinet members finalize an Anglo-French plan designed to appease Hitler with regard to the Sudetenland. Italy states that they will side with Germany if there is a war.
What a glorious day! Despite feeling a bit tired, I did not hesitate to rise for breakfast in the Speisesalle with two darling little waitresses running all around. The tour bus picked us up in front of the hotel at 8:45 a.m., and by 9:00 a.m., we were reassembled at the agency for various tours. Today’s excursion included visiting famous places in the city plus the Hellbrunn Castle. We drove through the Residenzplatz, a large square in the historic center of Salzburg. After viewing the riding school, State Theater, and a tower where they used to burn witches, we ended up at the Hellbrunn Castle. This place is famous for viewing the many fascinating waterworks, which delight adults and children alike! Miniature carved people in miniature villages suddenly become animated, by the power of water alone. Water would suddenly spout from everywhere. There was a table surrounded by seats with little holes in their middles. The person at the head of the table could press buttons that would cause a spray of water to rise in the center of each seat — an easy way of ridding oneself of an unwelcome guest. We arrived at the Residenzplatz just in time to hear the carillon play at 11:00. Our guide said it was a sad song that asked the question, “Why do you go away and leave me?”
The cute little guide had a round, beaming face, and wore a Tyrol costume. After the tour, I revisited the lovely Mirabel gardens, just sitting there drinking in the sun. How many things could I squeeze into the remaining hours of the day? In the old part of town, I encountered St. Peter’s cathedral as they were having an organ recital. The organ dates back in part to 1628 and the music was magnificent. While making my way through the narrow streets, the entrance of the fortress, or “festung” appeared. I ascended on a cable car, which was somehow propelled by water.
Sitting at the top of the hill, savoring my coffee and kucken, I had a lovely view out over Salzburg. The fortress seemed like a little village, and was teeming with soldiers.
Always looking for things to explore, I tried to find out where everyone seemed to be heading. They were going to the Herbfeste, a type of carnival. On the way down, I longed for a parachute that would deliver me right in the middle of the gaiety. After a lengthy and tiresome descent, I walked out to the Herbfeste. These Austrian people really are gay and I love them all! They enjoy everything immensely, and are so kind at heart. I would have enjoyed the fest more with a companion. Carnivals are meant to be enjoyed with others. After exploring it completely, I could barely crawl back to my hotel. The hotel dinner was quite refreshing, so I was ready to take in a performance of the celebrated Salzburg Marionettes. They acted out a very amusing rendition of Faust, and are every bit as wonderful as claimed.
Date: September 19, 1938
Place: Salzburg to Innsbruck
Weather: Grand!
The ride from Salzburg to Innsbruck was completely entrancing: high rugged mountains rising on both sides of the road, many of them with snow-covered peaks. The mountain streams were as clear as can be! The river had an aquamarine hue, sparkling like strands of diamonds as it caught the sunlight. Initially, I had the compartment to myself and I hopped from window to window to see everything. Around every curve was another lovely lake! The people working in the fields wore a plainer version of the Tyrol costume. Eventually, a very handsome fellow entered the compartment. He spoke little English but indicated that he was sorry that he could not get off at Innsbruck to show me around. He kissed my hand when he left at Zell am See. For the remainder of the ride, just curling up and enjoying the scenery far outweighed any desire to read or take a nap.
Upon my 2 p.m. arrival at Innsbruck, I went by horse and carriage to my hotel. The ride was enjoyable this time, with no worries about having place to stay. My room is lovely, and very well furnished. I am dying to try the bed — and had better do so early, because tomorrow morning, it’s up at 6:30. This afternoon I walked around Innsbruck and visited the Folk Museum, to see some very old Tyrolean artifacts. There were costumes from all parts of the country, as well as various implements and furniture. Several men were in charge of the displays, and each was happy to show people the things in his particular domain.
That afternoon as I returned to my hotel room, I noticed that there was a contraption on the ceiling light — a sort of cardboard box — with a small hole in the bottom. When the light was turned on, all the illumination I could see was a small cylindrical shaft that was barely noticeable. My first impulse was to wonder what kind of game it was! It was then that I became aware that the windows were locked, and the outside shutters seemed nailed tight. After resting, I turned on the light over the washbasin and readied for dinner. During dinner in the hotel basement, I temporarily forgot about it all.
The dinner was delicious, but the other diners did not care to socialize. They were extremely engrossed in some news flashes that were blaring over a radio. I could make out what seemed to be a Sudeten-German mass meeting with several speeches and lots of wild cheering. The atmosphere was so intense; I felt the need to step outside for some fresh air. The desk clerk in the dim lobby confirmed that this was a black night. When I told them that I had turned on the light over the basin, they looked aghast! Why didn’t anyone tell me about this? The scene outside of the hotel was black as black could be. You could not see two feet ahead of you. It was a blackout night, all right! People were cautiously walking down the streets. They were speaking in hushed tones, and muttering to companions or to themselves! It was the weirdest sensation — like being in a dream. It did not seem wise to venture far from the hotel. There were only two things one could do on such an evening: go to some nightclub to pass the hours, or go home and to bed.
Upon re-entering the hotel, I had a terrible time finding my room! The lights in the hallways were so dim that I had to grope each hallway door and run my fingers over the raised numbers. More fun! After finally locating my room, I headed straight to bed, and slept like a top.