In which a very long train ride ends at a sparkly castle (Austria part I).

In the last days of May, work got harder as my brain got more and more preoccupied with an upcoming two weeks in Austria. I swear someone kept setting the clock back on my computer on the Friday before departure, but the time finally came to activate my out-of-office auto-reply, which was very formal and polite despite my departing grin and feeling of SEE YA, SUCKERS!

Saturday was soon to follow and in rolled the train to take Freund and I south for eight+ hours. There were delays -- several -- but we made it to Munich and then on to Salzburg in good health and good enough spirits. The weather was lovely for training and emphasized the picturesqueness of the German countryside as we toodled along.

I made a short trip to Salzburg by myself a few years ago and remember it very fondly as a magical place under freshly fallen snow, especially when walking above it through a forest of silver beeches, quiet and alone but for the joyful noise of all the Sunday bells ringing up from the steeples below. This visit would be shorter still, just one evening, and without all the fluffy stuff.

After pulling into the Hauptbahnhof, we made our way to the hotel to drop things off before heading out again. Freund had never been there and was curious to see what all the fuss was about after putting up with all my memory gush.

Entering the Mirabell Gardens had me missing a certain Julie Andrews-loving friend of mine pretty immediately. (Maybe her father can forward this post in her direction...) And of course, the castle looked grand from all angles.

In fact, it looked so grand that we decided to have a look at it up close, partly for the view and partly for the exercise after sitting on a train all day. (Also: Hey legs, see those mountains over there? They're about to get a lot bigger!)

To my delight, all were free to wander around inside the old fortress at will, provided you made it up the steep and winding slopes (or paid for the cable railway shortcut). Pretty empty at the end of the day and with storm clouds on the horizon.

On the way back down and through the Old Town, I went searching for someone I met on my last visit to the salty castle -- an elegant girl with a snowy hat and muff. And I found her! Though as her tombstone was illegible, I will continue to think of her sweetly, and a little sadly, as "the girl with the muff".

Rain accompanied us back to the hotel after a very cheesy dinner and appley strudel. It helped make for a good sleep before the real adventure began.