The family of five left no stone unturned on the hill. I thought so because it was a long time before they returned. Our flu bug was having the upper hand and wearing us down by now. Schlossbergplatz was not short of tourists. A steady stream kept the pace so we had much to see seated as we were on the bench outside the tunnel leading to the elevator.
We were glad to see the five of them descending the 260 stone steps. Ms Walk-Faster was left far behind from the other four so she was the last to return. "Trouble with the knees", I whispered to my husband.
The "other way" was the narrow street to the left from the fountain at Schlossbergplatz. It was lined with interesting buildings on both sides.
HAUPTPLATZ (MAIN SQUARE)
Suddenly, we came upon a rapturous sight in an open space in front of the City Hall. (Rathaus). Built in 1878, the main square was pretty much a "happening" place. It is the hub link to the major streets. A live band was beating up some buoyant tune. Hey! I know that tune. It's the "Norwegian Cuckoo Bird song".
We were glad to see the five of them descending the 260 stone steps. Ms Walk-Faster was left far behind from the other four so she was the last to return. "Trouble with the knees", I whispered to my husband.
Standing by the fountain in the middle of Schlossbergplatz with the 260 steps behind us, we wondered if we should walk to the left or the right. Across from us was the passage we came from this morning.
Mr Seventeen looked at his IPad and led us towards the Holy Trinity Church on the right and beyond. After a few hundred meters, he paused.
"There's nothing to see here. Let's go the other way."
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The "other way" was the narrow street to the left from the fountain at Schlossbergplatz. It was lined with interesting buildings on both sides.
HAUPTPLATZ (MAIN SQUARE)
Suddenly, we came upon a rapturous sight in an open space in front of the City Hall. (Rathaus). Built in 1878, the main square was pretty much a "happening" place. It is the hub link to the major streets. A live band was beating up some buoyant tune. Hey! I know that tune. It's the "Norwegian Cuckoo Bird song".
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| Hauptplatz |
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| Rathaus (City Hall) |
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| Archduke Johann fountain Four female figures around him symbolize the rivers Mur, Enns, Drava and Sann |
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The walls between two different building blocks were narrow passages which connects the back of the building (and beyond) to the front. Archways with intricate carvings (like the one above) marked the entrance.
LANDHAUS COURTYARD
Entering one of these archways (I knew not which), Tweedle-Dum led us through a maze of narrow passages until we arrived at an open courtyard packed with tourists looking up at the facade. At this point, bells were ringing.
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"Nothing here," Tweedle-Dum exclaimed before leading us out of this maze of passages back to Hauptplatz.
At this point, I might add that I felt like one of the children following the Pied Piper of Hamelin to obscurity. We do not know where we were going except to follow wherever that took us. Entering another archway directly opposite a bus stand at Hauptplatz, we walked into a narrow passage between the walls of two separate blocks of building to appear at an open space (Mehlplatz) which connected us to a narrow street.
At this point, I might add that I felt like one of the children following the Pied Piper of Hamelin to obscurity. We do not know where we were going except to follow wherever that took us. Entering another archway directly opposite a bus stand at Hauptplatz, we walked into a narrow passage between the walls of two separate blocks of building to appear at an open space (Mehlplatz) which connected us to a narrow street.
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Turning right here, Tweedle-Dum led us past a narrow street into Glockenspielplatz.
Tourists from all over visited Carillon Glockenspiel Graz to witness the famous carillon which came to life daily with a song and a rotating wood carved couple at 11 am, 3 pm and 6 pm.
The dancing figures are in traditional costume. They have been turning to the sound of the chimes for almost 100 years.
We were late by 10 minutes so we missed the 11 am song and dance.
I'd hoped that we could hang around for the 3 pm performance but we had to leave for Salzburg so ... |
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Back at Hauptplatz, Ms Walk-Faster wanted to check out the Swarovski outlet so they went that a- way. We chose an outdoor table under a canopy next to the tram lines at the Gina Pizzaria and ordered some hot tea and a large pizza. The pizza was mediocre but we weren't hungry. We just needed some place to rest. Smokers around us puffed their lungs away.. The Herrengasse (street outside the cafe restaurant) was busy with shoppers, students and tourists. Church bells were ringing at short intervals. The live band at the Hauptplatz gave a certain revelry to the occasion. There can be no rest when you are right smack in the midst of such a hullabaloo .
It was pleasant sitting under the sun by the side of the street watching the world go by. Trams came and go. Leashed dogs and their handler walked unhurriedly towards the Herrengasse (street) unperturbed by the hustle and bustle of the Hauptplatz (main square with the Farmer's Market). Young people (probably students) looked at their watches as they waited impatiently for the trams. The elderly sat on benches at the tram stand, some dozing off despite the noise.
It was pleasant sitting under the sun by the side of the street watching the world go by. Trams came and go. Leashed dogs and their handler walked unhurriedly towards the Herrengasse (street) unperturbed by the hustle and bustle of the Hauptplatz (main square with the Farmer's Market). Young people (probably students) looked at their watches as they waited impatiently for the trams. The elderly sat on benches at the tram stand, some dozing off despite the noise.
The cherries in the farmer's box looked good. EUR3.90/kilo. We picked a kilo's worth while the farmer chatted amiably, The nectarine and apricot, said the farmer, were from France so we bought a couple too. The cherries were sweet. The nectarines and apricots were not.
Occupying a vacant bench at the tram stand, we waited for the family of five to reappear outside the Swarovski outlet. About an hour after noon, we spotted them.
It was time to check out. We returned to the hotel, collected our luggage, popped them into the rented vehicle and drove to Salzburg with Mr Nice-Guy behind the wheels. (The nominated driver, my husband, was drowsy from the cough syrup.)
Numerous tunnels and picturesque scenery kept up our "oohs!" and "ahhs" along the Interstate Highway to Salzburg. I saw a lake town complete with boathouses, sailing boats and rustic homes and wondered what it was like to live in one of those.
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We left Graz at 2.30 pm,and arrived at Salzburg at 6pm. Looking at the narrow small town streets, you cannot help thinking that you have entered a little town where everybody knows each other. Vienna, by comparison was metropolitan, and Graz? ... Graz was just ... Graz.
Our accommodation this time was at the Pension Herbert, an interesting two-storey brick and concrete house in a quiet neighborhood owned by a man called Herbert. He was not there to greet us but his wife welcomed us warmly. After the keys were handed over to us, his wife ushered us into the dining room. Clearing a table, she spread out a map and pointed out all the tourist spots, telling us precisely which bus we should catch.
"There are two places in Salzburg that you must not miss," she continued. "First is the mountains.. Drive there. Order a drink at a cafe, enjoy the air and the view. After that, visit the Trick Fountain. You must not miss the Trick Fountain."
"The dining room will be opened for breakfast at 8 am in the morning," she added. "For dinner tonight,, you can go to a cafe restaurant just down the road on the left, or take the Number 5 bus downtown where there is plenty of choice."
Armed with brochures and maps, we retired to our respective rooms. We had previously bought a kilogram of cherries at the Graz Farmer's Market. Keeping one third for ourselves, we handed the remaining two-thirds to the family of five.
The next important matter on our agenda was Dinner. We decided to dine at the cafe restaurant down the road while the rest were anxious to explore downtown Salzburg.
"They are dining at the cafe down the road," Mr Nice-Guy told his wife as he pointed at us.
"The children wished to go downtown," Ms Walk-Faster protested. Turning towards my husband, she added, "Oh, you're tired?"
"I am tired!" Mr Nice-Guy cried, raising his voice.
I had to intervene. "Its okay. you guys go ahead. We're down with the flu so we'll eat nearby then return to our room to sleep."
They joined us..
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We walked out of Pension Herbert and turn left at the hedge enclosing the building.(picture above: left) The streets were deserted. Opposite these houses (picture above: right) was a cemetery. I recognized the colossal arched gate. The cemetery was walled up but large trees stood majestically within it's ground. I shuddered for it was cold and humid. (Temperature: 21 deg C - 11 deg C)
The restaurant was located on a small lane across from the walled cemetery. We settled into our tables and studied the menu. The family of five sat around two square tables at a corner. We took the adjoining table. Ms Walk-Faster who was unusually gifted in protocols separate our table so as not to confuse the waiter.
Joining our table, Mr Seventeen said, "I'll sit over here. It's less crowded."
"No! You get back here. We have to ask for separate bills," cried Ms Walk-Faster.
The young waiter appeared to take our orders.
"Please separate our bills. They are not with us," she explained as she pointed at us.
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I have to say this. The deep fried breaded chicken was delicious. I couldn't finish it because I wasn't supposed to. I had a mean sore-throat and really, there weren't much choice. The menu wasn't extensive. We left the food unfinished, paid our "separate" bill and returned to the hotel, ready to drop like a sack of potatoes.
The wooden stairs going up to our room creaked loudly so you can appreciate the age of the building. Despite its age, the rooms were well maintained and clean. The window in our room looked directly at another entrance to the walled cemetery, it's arched ornate gate shut tight to ensure the privacy of their occupants. I wondered where Ginger was buried.
Late that night, after we turned in, Mr Nice-Guy knocked on our door just to check if we were okay or if we needed anything. I thought that was considerate and kind of him. He had been "checking on us" regularly since we caught the flu bug.
Meanwhile, another night crept quietly into the shadows. We slept fitfully. The neighborhood was as silent as the grave ...
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