Pastel isn’t a proper colour

But it certainly adds to the insipid feeling of the town.

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We moved Dora, not far, just around the corner and then went to wait at the bus stop. A fellow prospective passenger paces impatiently, apparently the bus is already eighteen seconds late, but it is in view now and will arrive in a moment. We are in Germany, but there are no border formalities as we cross into Austria. We are actually on Salzburg’s doorstep and within twenty minutes we have been deposited in the old town, just by the river.

We find a small passageway that takes us to one of the main streets, where there is the house where Mozart was born, just up the road is a museum of when he was a young lad, another for when he was a teenager. So much Mozart choice, so we decide not to bother. I have always found his music rather flowery and fluffy, not my ‘cup of tea’ and therefore am not persuaded to find out any more about the boy wonders life.

On the ground floor of his birthplace a Spar now resides. This would have been most convenient for Mozart’s parents, in the day, pop down there for some nappies and rusks.

An elaborate bell systems winds its way up the various floors using a system of wires and levers. Maybe to let the Mozart’s know that their order is now ready from Spar and please come and collect it.

Further into town, everything is much like the music; flowery, fluffy, dripping with ornament.

The superfluous-ness of all that decoration plastered on, all those little dirt trap ledges, where rain collects, seeping inside, or drips down staining the facade. These buildings need a lot of upkeep, continued painting, otherwise they end up looking like a derelict Italian town.

But what we have is the fully renovated, not a hair out of place, what it has never actually been like caricature of a town, solely for the benefit of the tourist.

Today, they even painted the sky blue.

And here is master Mozart.

And here is the fountain in the central square.

Rather perturbed by the nasal excretions coming from a rather distressed horse. Well, wouldn’t you be!

The church is a rather mundane affair, until you get inside.

Here they have really gone to town. Still way to much decoration for my taste,

but the lightness is refreshing compared to most catholic dark and dingy edifices.

And I do really love these photos of the ceiling. Set the camera to a 2 second self timer, turn the flash off, find the point below the centre of the ceiling. Press the shutter and place the camera on the floor and then circle, making sure no one wanders into shot.

A crisp and clear photo showing all the detail- just not so sure about the garbage that is the subject.

The exaggerated perspectives around the dome are quite fun, if you look at them from the right angle.

Most of the buildings in this town have this level of decoration. I find it most unappealing.

And the shops around here, excel in high class tat, every possible way you can sell brand Mozart, but bizarrely, not much of his music for sale, probably not that popular, maybe not that many recognise his tunes these days.

Now this is one of the many towns I visited when I was nineteen, inter-railing around Europe. This was one of the towns I thought I had really vivid memories of, but maybe time has really altered those memories.

There is nothing here that resembles those memories, but perhaps that is for the best. Those ones can be looked away somewhere, distorted by age.

One place I am sure I never visited before is the castle, and it has a commanding view over the town, so we feel it is somewhere we should explore.

So we climb the steep steps up the rocky outcrop, deciding not to take advantage of the funicular, which has a long queue.

The tour starts well. The ticket includes an audio guide for part of the castle and generally it is fairly informative, sometimes a little to exhaustive.

The usual torture chamber.

But this is what everyone really comes for, those panoramic views.

Into the castle,

across the landscape

and across the town.

We give back our audio guides and continue on the tour, which rapidly deteriorates. Various different exhibitions are shoved into adjoining rooms with no apparent connection or explanation, it is almost as if you are looking into all the clutter that has been collected in someone’s attic.

We do persevere, but we are frankly disappointed.

One of the key protagonists, you expanded the castle greatly apparently made his fortune from turnips. Anyone who has a turnip on his coat of arms must have a good sense of humour.

This one is emblazoned on an oversized heater.

And this is emblazoned everywhere, were these stoves practical? Did they actually work, or were they the equivalent of fridge magnets?

This building is beautiful and sits in a commanding position, and yet they have failed to curate it effectively. Perhaps, towns which have a natural tourist draw anyway get lazy and end up not bothering. Maybe we should have stuck with something original and found out a little more about boy wonder Mozart.

Back past the cathedral and through to the other main street.

There is something sickly sweet about pastel colours. But we associate pastels with children, a non colour, an immature colour. Nothing to vibrant, nothing to offend. Pastels are not a colour, there are an excuse, because you cannot make up your mind, or you are too afraid to use a proper colour. Pastels are nauseating. Pastels fit this town well.

Bit harsh but there is some truth in it. Colours are attractive to the human eye. Here, they don’t. They are indifferent, dull, boring, in good and bad weather. SM

Another religious building even more saturated with light, and this time very little colour. The stark whiteness, is overpowering and quite refreshing in a church.

The decoration is still too much, but at least it is relatively abstract, I quite like the clouds.

All to create that godly feeling in all those myriad of ways, those manipulative architects.

What I find really shocking, is the care and attention that is paid to protecting these buildings, well actually the lack of it. Now these are not the styles of building that I particularly like, but you can do better than clipping a load of mesh in front of the window, or sticking spikes all over the place to stop the pigeons. This is design laziness. Renovate the building properly, don’t destroy it with poor detailing

We did find this beautiful water feature in the centre of one street.

And another chain-link bridge covered in padlocks.

Even from the bridge, the castle has a commanding view over the town.

Across the river Sulzuch

and we come to Prince Archbishop Wolf Dietrich’s Palace and gardens, very nice and apparently use in ‘A Sound of Music’, I think we have had our fill of Baroque, we forego the Segway tours, the bicycle tours, the walking tours and Bob’s special ‘Sound of Music’ tour. We find the bus and return to Germany, return to Dora.