We left Germany and went into Austria. I don't remember if we went from Munich directly to Vienna, if we went from Munich to Berchtesgaden and then to Vienna, or if went to Salzburg before Vienna. I will assume the following: Vienna, followed by Salzburg, followed by Innsbruck, then through the Austrian Alps (literally and figuratively) into Italy.
Interesting to me, Austria seemed very different from Germany. Even in 1962, the signs of German prosperity were apparent, while Austria (which had recently moved from post-war neutrality with a socialist government, to a country within Western influence) appeared much wearier. Austrain villages were not as spiffy as German villages, even where Austrian and Baviarian architecture had much in common, and I remember that each village appeared to have a white-washed Catholic church, an architectural type very distinctive from the German.
I know that a lot of people do not seem to care for Vienna, although I do not know why. I have been there twice, and found it both times to be a fascinating place.
Several things interested me on this first trip. Most surprising to me was the fact that Vienna is not located on the Danube, but rather on a non-descript Donau Kanal, which itself hardly makes its presence known in the city. As most European (and American) cities make much of their waterfronts, this was not at all what I expected.
Secondly, the Ringstrasse, the large imperial street built in the final century of Hapsburg rule over the site which had contained the medieval walls of the city (now destroyed) was to me extraordinarily impressive, and gave Vienna the look of a very important place. The museums, the Rathaus (City Hall), the religious buildings, all were, to me, signs of past (and perhaps future) splendor. (The Ringstrasse surrounds the Old City, filled with narrow street, older buildings, hotels, restaurants and, today, chic shops. Somehow, if this is possible, we missed the Old City in its entirety. At least, I have no memory of it, and when I was back in Vienna about ten years later, and found myself staying at a hotel near St. Stephensplatz in the center of old Vienna, it was like I was in a city that I did not know existed.)
Third, Vienna was filled with old people. Everyone appeared two generations older than we were. I was told that it was not an inaccurate perception, and that many, and especially talented, younger Viennese had migrated to West Germany because of the dynamism and economic opportunity. I do not think this is necessarily the case today, but then it gave the city a unique feel. A city of pensioners.
Fourth, music. Vienna's musical calendar, even in July or August was filled, and events hard to
get into. The Viennese Philharmonic was playing with Karl Boehm conducting, and as I in those
days went to a lot of concerts and wanted to see all of the great conductors, this seemed like an opportunity that I could not pass up. For some reason, we did (or maybe had to) pass it up.
We did go to the Kunstmuseum, the Horse Riding School (although the Lippanzers were away for the summer), Belvedere Palace and Schonbrunn Palace, all of which were notable. At Schonbrunn, which is in sort-of suburban Vienna, we saw a nice production of Mozart's Il Re Pastore, which was performed in the ornate theater of the former royal family.
We also went to a Weinstube in the famous Vienna Woods, where we could drink wine on a hillside and watch the lights of the city, but I must say that the Vienna Woods, which I assumed would be a magical combination of romantic and forboding, proved to be neither.
And I did sit on the terrace of the Hotel Sacher and have a sachertorte.
I think we spent two days in Salzburg (one night) and only a few hours in Innsbruck.
Salzburg was a delight. The city was filled with tourists and music, and I had a terrific time. We did most of the tourist things, although I don't think we did the tour of the salt mines which give the city its name. We certainly went to the castle which overlooks the city, and to Mozart's House. I remember an afternoon lieder concert (soprano and piano) at the Mozarteum.
Innsbruck was a bust. You may have seen pictures of Innsbruck (or been there), a picturesque city in the heart of the Alps, with mountain views in every direction, and, looking down the main street, a stream and waterfall visable halfway up the mountain. Well, when we were there, it was about 50 degress, and foggy as London is supposed to be (but never is). We might as well have been in Wichita. There was not a mountain to be seen.
Driving through the Alps into the north of Italy was beautiful, as you can imagine. And going through the ten mile long Brenner Pass tunnel (do I have that correct? I still think it is the world's longest tunnel) was quite an experience. (If you read my earlier post about my junior trip to Washington DC, you will see that I was even impressed the with tunnel under Scott Circle.) At any rate, this is what I mean about driving literally and figuratively through the Alps between Austria and Italy.
When we reached the Italian side of the tunnel, we were stil in the same Alps with the same breathtaking scenery. We were on our way to Venice, so were just passing through, but it was beautiful as long as it lasted. When we were south of the Alps, however, the scenery went from the sublime to the non-descript. Flat and dull are my recollections. A major disappointment. When we pulled into the campsite outside of Venice (we had not yet left the mainland), I did not know what to expect.
Going into Venice the next morning was, of course, entering fairy land. I cannot do justification to this extraordinary place. The canals and lack of roads, the gondaliers, the architecture. Mostly, we wandered. But we did go to some museums (for the first time, the contents seemed to be lost to the setting), and to the ghetto (the oldest in Europe, "ghetto" being an older Italian word for foundry; in fact, the older Venetian ghetto is the New Ghetto, and the newer the Old Ghetto, because these were the sequence of the former foundry sites selected for the residence of the city's Jewish population). We rode on a gondola (or two or three), we fed the pigeons on St. Mark's Square.
We also went to the Lido (the beach of Venice, located either on the mainland or, more likely, on an island, reachable by boat from St. Mark's. And we went to a glass blowing facility on Murano.
From Venice we drove southwest, through Bologna, to Florence. Actually, we stayed in a beautiful campsite in Fiesole, a small village up a hill from Florence. It was a short drive or, more often, a long and beautiful walk. The vistas were extraordinary.
I remember doing the normal Florentine tourist things. The Uffizi, the Duomo and campanile, the Pitti Palace, the Ponte Vecchio over the Arno. The relatively new synagogue. While each sight in Florence was of interest and obvious importance, for some reason, the city itself left me somewhat cold. (So cold, in fact, that, years later, on a subsequent trip, I spent an entire week in Florence to be able to take in everything. I did take in a lot; but I must admit the city itself held very little attraction for me.
From Florence, it was Rome via the autostrada. We stayed at a camp grounds south of the city, in the Pines of Rome, south of a commercial suburb, recently built and rather impressive. The tall pines, with no low branches or leaves, but with a floor of fallen needles, made for a cool location in a hot climate.
We saw a lot in Rome: the Forum, the Pantheon, the Villa Borghese, the Vatican, Hadrian's Villa (Castle San Angelo), and all the rest. I had never seen ruins of this nature; this was fascinating for its own sake, and as to how they could maintain the forum in its present condition. The story is of course very complicated. I did not know that then.
I also remember the Victor Emannuel monument, the Via Venuto, the Tiber, Piazza Nivona, the Corso, etc.
We also drove south through (or around, perhaps?) Naples, to Pompeii. Another extraordinary day, as I had no idea as to the extent of the excavations or the degree that some had been preserved. (Of course, today Pompeii is even more developed than 40 years ago.)
Driving north from Rome, we went through Pisa, deciding (really stupidly) that it would be a kick to be able to say "I was in Pisa, but did not see the leaning tower." Well, I was in Pisa and I never saw the leaning tower.
We drove through the northern Italian beach resorts, drove through the interesting and seemingly interminably large city of Genoa, and crossed into France, visiting Nice and Cannes and staying in delightful San Tropez, where I saw my first topless (optional) beach. We enjoyed the beauty of the Mediterranean, but saw few of the sites of Provence. It was the coast, and then, after a few days, driving inland on our way back to Paris.
We drove into Switzerland and, trying to see as much as possible, went to (not in this order) Zurich, Lausanne, Lucerne, Berne, Basel, Interlachen and Geneva, all in one day. (Did you know they all look exactly alike?)
We stayed in Geneva, seeing the Jet D'eau and the impressive buildings of the international organizations. But the most surprising thing about Switzerland was (as I recall) how expensive it was. This is the first and only place we visited, where we figured we could not afford to say.
Back to Paris, back to American express and the retrieval of my painting, back across the channel (this time in a gale, where I seemed to be one of the few, who did not lose three days of food on deck), and back by train to London. I don't remember this brief second visit to London, but we stayed at the same bed and breakfast near Victoria Station, and again when from Victoria Station to Heathrow, on the Harvard Student Agency charter to Boston.
The trip was over.
When we reached the Italian side of the tunnel, we were stil in the same Alps with the same breathtaking scenery. We were on our way to Venice, so were just passing through, but it was beautiful as long as it lasted. When we were south of the Alps, however, the scenery went from the sublime to the non-descript. Flat and dull are my recollections. A major disappointment. When we pulled into the campsite outside of Venice (we had not yet left the mainland), I did not know what to expect.
Going into Venice the next morning was, of course, entering fairy land. I cannot do justification to this extraordinary place. The canals and lack of roads, the gondaliers, the architecture. Mostly, we wandered. But we did go to some museums (for the first time, the contents seemed to be lost to the setting), and to the ghetto (the oldest in Europe, "ghetto" being an older Italian word for foundry; in fact, the older Venetian ghetto is the New Ghetto, and the newer the Old Ghetto, because these were the sequence of the former foundry sites selected for the residence of the city's Jewish population). We rode on a gondola (or two or three), we fed the pigeons on St. Mark's Square.
We also went to the Lido (the beach of Venice, located either on the mainland or, more likely, on an island, reachable by boat from St. Mark's. And we went to a glass blowing facility on Murano.
From Venice we drove southwest, through Bologna, to Florence. Actually, we stayed in a beautiful campsite in Fiesole, a small village up a hill from Florence. It was a short drive or, more often, a long and beautiful walk. The vistas were extraordinary.
I remember doing the normal Florentine tourist things. The Uffizi, the Duomo and campanile, the Pitti Palace, the Ponte Vecchio over the Arno. The relatively new synagogue. While each sight in Florence was of interest and obvious importance, for some reason, the city itself left me somewhat cold. (So cold, in fact, that, years later, on a subsequent trip, I spent an entire week in Florence to be able to take in everything. I did take in a lot; but I must admit the city itself held very little attraction for me.
From Florence, it was Rome via the autostrada. We stayed at a camp grounds south of the city, in the Pines of Rome, south of a commercial suburb, recently built and rather impressive. The tall pines, with no low branches or leaves, but with a floor of fallen needles, made for a cool location in a hot climate.
We saw a lot in Rome: the Forum, the Pantheon, the Villa Borghese, the Vatican, Hadrian's Villa (Castle San Angelo), and all the rest. I had never seen ruins of this nature; this was fascinating for its own sake, and as to how they could maintain the forum in its present condition. The story is of course very complicated. I did not know that then.
I also remember the Victor Emannuel monument, the Via Venuto, the Tiber, Piazza Nivona, the Corso, etc.
We also drove south through (or around, perhaps?) Naples, to Pompeii. Another extraordinary day, as I had no idea as to the extent of the excavations or the degree that some had been preserved. (Of course, today Pompeii is even more developed than 40 years ago.)
Driving north from Rome, we went through Pisa, deciding (really stupidly) that it would be a kick to be able to say "I was in Pisa, but did not see the leaning tower." Well, I was in Pisa and I never saw the leaning tower.
We drove through the northern Italian beach resorts, drove through the interesting and seemingly interminably large city of Genoa, and crossed into France, visiting Nice and Cannes and staying in delightful San Tropez, where I saw my first topless (optional) beach. We enjoyed the beauty of the Mediterranean, but saw few of the sites of Provence. It was the coast, and then, after a few days, driving inland on our way back to Paris.
We drove into Switzerland and, trying to see as much as possible, went to (not in this order) Zurich, Lausanne, Lucerne, Berne, Basel, Interlachen and Geneva, all in one day. (Did you know they all look exactly alike?)
We stayed in Geneva, seeing the Jet D'eau and the impressive buildings of the international organizations. But the most surprising thing about Switzerland was (as I recall) how expensive it was. This is the first and only place we visited, where we figured we could not afford to say.
Back to Paris, back to American express and the retrieval of my painting, back across the channel (this time in a gale, where I seemed to be one of the few, who did not lose three days of food on deck), and back by train to London. I don't remember this brief second visit to London, but we stayed at the same bed and breakfast near Victoria Station, and again when from Victoria Station to Heathrow, on the Harvard Student Agency charter to Boston.
The trip was over.
1 comment:
Arthur,
Did you write this now, 43 years after the trip, or did you retype a journal that you kept? Remarkably, the same itinenary today would produce a near-identical log. I don't think you could say that about almost anywhere populated in the United States.
Chuck
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