Rigsby's Cat, Mozart's Mother and Skirmishes up The Valleys

Hallo zusammen, Wie komme ich am besten zum Burg?

Half term and we've been away again, so forgive the following the piece, as I have to write something down somewhere in order to remember where I have been.

A visit to see Vienna this time, not Rigsby's cat, but the foreign capital city followed by a train trip to Salzburg for a few days.

Austrian Airways by the way! Super service. Our early morning flight put us down mid morning in Vienna and we were punishing the wurst by 10.00 am.

The Hofburg first, the enormous Royal Palace Complex, much of which was closed for cleaning. Unsurprising as they keep horses in the house. White ones famous for dancing, they were being readied for release as we passed.

Never the biggest fans of Echo and The Bunnymen we eschewed the the prospect of Dancing Horses being brought on to continue our explorations.




It's a grand old place is Vienna and occasionally has the feel of walking around among a series of giant wedding cakes.

Impeccably clean and tidy, even the metro had a medical sterility about it.




Out for dinner and the first of a few that I was unable to finish during our stay.

A slow cooked beef dish with carrots, many little green dumplings, an unidentifiable red vegetable and a moniker that I forget but definitely trumpeted Austrian Independence in 1955. A substantial repast that could have fed a family of four.


Pictures next.

The Leopold museum to be precise, principally the work of Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele.

You can keep much of Schiele, he seems to have been a bit of an odd fecker, but Klimt has been a favourite for quite some time. When Madam moved into my student digs around thirty years ago my Jesus & Mary Chain Poster was replaced by a Gustav Klimt poster. The Smiths outside the Salford Lads Club was usurped by a poster of a work by a French impressionist whose name I forget.

Klimt's Death and Life was a particular highlight and much bigger that I expected, as I thought he only painted pictures the size of posters.

Here's one of Klimt with his cat, Vienna.

Taken a few years after he painted Death and Life, he's the same age as me here.

Culture done we ambled up to the opulent Rathaus,

and were surprised to find an elaborate and efficient outdoor ice rink that included bridges, one way systems, skate police and roundabouts.

After a light lunch we bumbled about the arcades

before taking in this statue of Disco Stu.

Goulash for dinner, a gargantuan portion in a Gasthaus with foaming jugs of beer and then to bed to make preparations for the two hour train trip to Salzburg.












Austrian trains are good, very good! A two hour trip half way across Austria at many miles an hour in reserved seats with a superb internet connection cost 13Euros each.

13 Euros Southern Rail, 13 Euros.

Upstairs on a train (It had an upstairs Southern Rail, another level) Is a great way to see the country. Snow started to appear and mountains hoved into view. We passed gargantuan piles of cut wood that would have Lord Ludg all of a slaver, snuggled the Danube for part of the way before moving into forest and small clear streams.

A twenty minute walk from the station pitched us up at a cosy billet. A first floor apartment in an old building that had a front, two sides and a back wall formed from the local alp.

Like every good Injun we headed for high ground to spy the land and caught the funicular up to the castle on top of the hill.

There's a Noggin the Nog feel about the place and it's more of a small village than castle.

The castle has witnessed much conflict in the thousand or so years that there have been fortifications on the hill. The torture room was particularly eerie, as the screams of the unfortunate soul having his toes tickled would have carried far across the whole town.

Down the funicular and quite the surprise, a rushing channel of water.

The Alm canal is one of the oldest subterranean aqueducts in Europe and was built to bring water from a wet region called Leopoldskron. It was completed in 1142, but is still in use today and carries water for several hydroelectric units that feed power into the city. It is drained once a year for maintenance work and tours for tourists, but unfortunately not during our stay. It empties into the river Salzach at several points in the centre of the city.

The River Salzach by the way,

quite shallow on its run through Salzburg and brim full of trout and grayling.

While we're on the river,

this.

I don't agree with this kind of caper and if any of our regular fisherman at Bransbury think it would be a good idea to attach numerous padlocks to a bridge that I have built over the Dever in the name of love, please be aware that our bridges are carefully engineered to cope with a variety of weather conditions and any additional weight added to a single side may send it seriously out of kilter.

Wiener Schnitzel for dinner on our first night in Salzburg. A vast piece of battered veal that I just about managed to finish, the chips went untouched and we pondered eating from only the entree menu the following night.

Mozart is a must in Salzburg.

He was quite a guy from a very young age and has achieved cult status in these parts.

The two houses in which he lived are well preserved and provided a comprehensive introduction into his life with his family in the town. There are musical pieces played by all of the family members and vignettes of opera pieces from The Magic Flute, Don Giovanni and much more besides. I particularly enjoyed an exchange of letters between Mozart's mother and a big noise in the Viennese music world who a young Mozart had been sent to study under. Concerns were aired over Amadeus's work ethic and how he could achieve so much more if he put a bit more effort in, in short he was just drifting through life.

Well, well done Master Mozart, great drifting!

Unfortunately we do not have a photographic record of our visit to either of Mozart's abodes. The factors are a tad precious over the reproduction of images of Mozart's chattels and with my idiot proof Nikon slung over my shoulder I was followed throughout our visit.

Although they left Madam alone and she was able to sneak this shot of Mozart's mother.

And then, all to soon, it was time to catch the train back to Vienna for our cheap flights back to Blighty.



Two tremendous cities, we prepared for an arctic blast, but enjoyed a heat wave throughout our stay that brought the locals out sunbathing on the riverbank in the afternoon.

Apologies again for travel guff but, as I said, I have to write something down in order to remember things.

River stuff to follow.

But not just yet, as we returned home on the Thursday in order to attend sporting events on the Saturday.

Maisie's beau, Callum had kindly sourced some tickets for the Wales v England Six Nations game in Cardiff.

We'd visited William (Child B) in Cardiff when six nations games had been on before and had an idea of what a big deal it could be, but this was something else.

One of the best sporting events Madam or I have ever attended.

Cardiff do rugby matches well, and ok the result went against Old Albion, but what a game. English and Welsh mixed up alike, I'll own that myself and the tremendous brace of welsh lads seated on my right had opened discussions on the course the remainder of the evening should take in order to bond further, but the lady on my left reminded me that I was of a certain vintage and ought to be making tracks.

With the late kick off we had planned to stay the night somewhere and drive home the following morning. One night in a room in central Cardiff on match day comes in at a similar price to a high end washing machine, so we looked a little further afield, opting for a room a few minute's walk from Treforest Station south of Pontypridd and twenty minute ride into Cardiff Central.

The train ride back up to the Rhonnda after the game was great fun and undertaken to a chorus of a hundred welsh men and welsh women singing

"You can stick your F&% Chariot up your arse,
You can stick your F££4 Chariot up your arse
Stick your F$%^ chariot
Stick your F£$% chariot
Stick your f$%£ chariot up your arse!"

Oh yes, they can really sing in the valleys,

If you've an opportunity to watch international rugby in Cardiff, don't pass it up, it's one of the great sporting experiences.

It was quite a half term.