Salzburg #4 Picture-perfect postcards

The rain kept pouring down on Salzburg, and we started to get very cold, but as we still had a walk to go after declining from the castle’s walls, we decided to take the fun route. Fun route means small alleys, closed in by means of one straight brick colourful wall with several illuminating stores beneath them. They looked extra welcoming in the dark rain, and a smile appeared on my face as I saw massive golden windows with lifesize toys, next to one of the many proud Mozart stores. After all, this famous man was born here, and I can imagine where he got his inspiration from. The old part of the city was tiny, but it made me want to dance in the rain and write poems about it. The alleys slowly widened as the rain poured down even harder, and we ended up at yet another big square with a massive, life-size chess game with an unexplainable yet beautiful, golden globe in its middle. The streets grew wider and the stores grew bigger and classier, as we slowly headed back to the river where the life as we knew it, returned. One last treat for the culture-spotting eye before we returned to the modern world, was a big, rock wall that didn’t only exist of bricks, but also formed the walls of once inhabited houses. Windows, doors, even very unstable stairs led to a neglected entrance. But like chameleons, the walls disappeared into the rocks. One loud honk and I realized I was back in the modern world with cars, people and their umbrellas, street lights. We crossed the bridge, and immediately on the other side of the river awaited the part of the city that hadn’t been as preserved as the part we just left, yet still had pastel buildings, wooden restaurants and some very classy, marble alike buildings. Maybe seeing the old part of the city inspired me for tomorrow’s trip; a visit to, according to several honourable titles, the world’s prettiest city: Hallstatt.

You already expect mystery, miracles and wonder, when you drive away from the city area further and further, as the mountains rise only higher. Most of our ride we found ourselves in deep green valleys, where the typical half-white-brick half-wood with massive balconies – farms surrounded by their big loyal cows, climbed the hill. Every now and then, gigantic lakes appeared, and today’s special was a thick, totally impenetrable fog, unravelling only the pitch black lake below it. when our road managed to dodge the fog, we got sneekpeeks onto silver streams leaving the mountains, most certainly powerful waterfalls from nearby. After a 2hour journey and some last, stomach-shaking curves, and then one last dark tunnel, we had arrived in Hallstatt. It didn’t feel like we entered a city at all. Where were the people? Where were the cars and busses? Where was the noise? It wasn’t there, none of it. we couldn’t park our car in the centre as the centre was car-free, the first thing I loved about this city. So we drove a little further on roads so small that sweat broke out when I even thought of a car appearing. The pine trees closed in on us as we entered a surprisingly empty parking lot, and I could only imagine how in non-covid times, this was full of busses. I secretly loved the fact that the city was abandoned now, having it all to myself. Immediately there was this deafening silence one doesn’t expect in the middle of a city. Maybe the massive, green-grey rocky mountains around us blocked out the entire world, including its sounds. The 900 residents of Hallstatt were at least as quiet as the place itself, for as far as we spotted people at all. My travellers heart started beating out of its chest as we followed one of the small asphalt streets to where the city begun: a crystal clear lake, transferring from emerald slowly towards pitch black in the middle. The mountains around it had a silver shine as the first snow had reached them, and the absolute spirit animals of the city floated by majestically: swans.

With only 900 residents but the title of ‘most instagramable spot of the world’ as well as being an UNESCO world heritage item, this poor city has been flooded with tourists so badly that signs politely ask people to behave and respect the locals. I felt bad for being a tourist, and decided to be a nice one, one they’d benefit from. But first, I had to stare a little longer at the wrinkles on the lake, at the powerful swans, and at the massive silver mountains protecting Hallstatt from harm. As you look the left, you catch the entire mini-city in one blink. I would prefer the term ‘picture perfect postcard’ over ‘most instagramable spot’, but I do understand. A gathering of dark wooden barns where little rowing boats float with the rhythm of the water. Behind them, slowly gathering, slowly building upwards the hill, the same wood, created houses. Most of them still exist out of the perfectly dark, raw wood, forever accompanied by large flower-balconies or coloured bricks, yet beautiful barn-alike buildings into houses from fairy-tale books. At the cities’ top, an adorable church tower rose high into the air, and that’s all there is to Hallstatt, and it is absolutely stunning. The peace of this ‘city’, is made out of nothing but mountains, a lake, and a gathering of beautiful typical Austrian houses climbing a very green hill. It looked so honourable and unreal, it’s the kind of city you enter in dreams. it’s not even a city, it’s not even a town, it’s just a little elves village hidden in the mountains. We entered the one and only proper street by the foot of the town besides the lake, where tiny little shops hid, all pointed at by wooden signs or chalkboards. And what we noticed immediately, was the absolute pride of Hallstatt: minerals. Due to its one of a kind location, the city was thriving on minerals and put that into magic, by means of entire stores with several floors to it, with nothing but soaps. Soaps in fruit-shape, lavender collections, actual salt crystal soap, edible looking soaps. of course a perfect town like this needs perfect stores like these.

With a bag full of soap and a happy face, we now left the one and only lower street to start climbing the little alleys, forming the only crisscrossing pathways in the city, between the perfect wooden creations some lucky people called their houses. A waterfall on top turned into a small river that found its way trough the city, and fed its glacier water to the mysteriously quiet lake, with only swans for residents. The houses all had their own perfect little gardens, filled with flowers and wooden seats, closed off by wooden porches with heartbreaking signs, asking tourists to please not enter. As we climbed all the way to the top by means of tiny wooden bridges, massive brick stairs and the smallest alleys covered by ivy walls or by wooden tunnels, we finally reached the proud church tower on top. This may sound inappropriate but besides churches and libraries I’ve always admired graveyards. And I don’t even try to sound funny if I say I love the quiet of these places. What I love is that people coming there, come in peace, to be silent and think without judgement. This creates an atmosphere one only finds in these places, and the graveyard surrounding the church was absolutely memorable, with beautiful stones, flowers and the sensible, ever lasting peace of the view. The lake looked blue from above, but dark because of the steep silver walls of the mountains by its sides. The city itself hid between the autumn colours of its trees and the wood of the still houses was shining. You could only hear the river colliding with the lake peacefully. It was one of these many moments where I wanted to cry because i didn’t want to leave a place, and because I realized my top 10 city list was flooding. I somehow felt connected to the dark wooden homes hiding behind flower balconies, to the quiet alleys crossing their way trough the houses, by the river, besides the little flower yards. I felt connected to the crystal lake at its feet, accompanied by endless of dark barns, their boats loyally close, to the mountains protecting us. I felt at peace with my favourite viewpoint: below the steep hill, where about 50 wooden houses with no sign of life, created an incredible balance between nature and human art, with the silver mountain wall behind them. Life here, happened only in the now, in the quiet, and in peace. This place was that one image haunting you forever, never wanting to leave. Because the rest of the world, suddenly, was overdone, and unnecessary.

- It's an amazing life