It is dusk in Salzburg and I am writing from a hill that I reached by tantalising flights of narrow, winding stairs. The church bells are singing over the river and echoing back and forth between the cliffs that fracture the town. No... wait... that's an ambulance siren.
Okay now it's bells again.
I must retrace my steps for you. After a few days in the elegant Vienna, I hitch hiked west to Salzburg. I was rescued from the freezing side of the highway by a kind Chechnyan man who spoke no English, but shared generously his lunch with me and drove me all the way to my destination. I speak no German, but we discovered a fair number of words that sound the same in both languages. With those and sign language he explained that a Russian tank had bombed his home in Chechnya, with a large shrapnel scar on his arm was as a potent visual aid. He dropped me in Mondsee and I headed for the basilica where Maria married the Captain in The Sound of Music. I wanted to buy some more of the delicious incense that I purchased in Nov '08. It's like ticking something off your shopping list, but instead of going to a particular store, you have to go to a particular Austrian country town.
Sufficiently later...
After my night in the hometown of Mozart I started even earlier for Innsbruck. I spent more hours than I care to recall in a hole of a town over the border into Bavaria, but by the end of the long and freezing day, I got a ride all the way past Innsbruck into Italy. I ended up in South Tyrol - the mountain state of Italy where German and Italian are dually spoken - and the beautiful town of Merano.
For a while I had wanted to visit Merano solely because it where the first act of Chess (my favourite musical) takes place. As pilgrimages go, it is among my dorkier ones and I love it.
After my night in the hometown of Mozart I started even earlier for Innsbruck. I spent more hours than I care to recall in a hole of a town over the border into Bavaria, but by the end of the long and freezing day, I got a ride all the way past Innsbruck into Italy. I ended up in South Tyrol - the mountain state of Italy where German and Italian are dually spoken - and the beautiful town of Merano.
For a while I had wanted to visit Merano solely because it where the first act of Chess (my favourite musical) takes place. As pilgrimages go, it is among my dorkier ones and I love it.
It was bittersweet to visit such a special place in the barrenness of winter, something like visiting a distant loved one only to find them in a coma. But the air is clean and the mountains majestic, even if I ended up with a cold from hitch hiking. It was not surprising, but bitterly ironic that I would spend my time in a healthy resort town being sick and sniffly. At my host's advice, I refrained from visiting the thermal spa, an experience that I had looked forward to with iconic anticipation. I shall simply have to visit again.
After wandering down through Trento I spent an afternoon in Verona. Romeo and Juliet is one of my least favourite Shakespeare plays so I was not greatly desirous of a romantic Verona experience, and sadly my time there was tainted by fruitless searching for accommodation and a bladder than nearly went super nova. But I spent a lovely night in Vicenza and had a deliciously sombre stroll the following day around Venice.
What could be more melancholy than Venice in winter? A cemetery in Venice in winter. Naturally, it was my first destination.
After a brief seaside stop in Trieste (above) I ended up in Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia. My couchsurfing host was the kindest, most generous fellow I could hope to meet. He was determined to give me the best experience possible in my fleeting visit, and in doing so he raised the bar for my future hosting experiences. From Ljubljana I took the train to Zagreb, the capital of Croatia. 
It was six years since I spent time there, but I headed immediately for the place I remember the most fondly: Mirogoj cemetery. Its silent pathways and moss-coated crypts are sweeter to me than any city, for ghosts make better muses than people.
After a brief seaside stop in Trieste (above) I ended up in Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia. My couchsurfing host was the kindest, most generous fellow I could hope to meet. He was determined to give me the best experience possible in my fleeting visit, and in doing so he raised the bar for my future hosting experiences. From Ljubljana I took the train to Zagreb, the capital of Croatia. 
It was six years since I spent time there, but I headed immediately for the place I remember the most fondly: Mirogoj cemetery. Its silent pathways and moss-coated crypts are sweeter to me than any city, for ghosts make better muses than people.
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