Innsbruck

We didn’t have hard plans for anything except the evening in Innsbruck, leaving us free to wander the streets, take a look at the river and generally soak up a little bit of city buzz. No sign of any tourists (except us) in front of Innsbruck’s famous ‘Golden Roof’, probably the best-known sight in the heart of the town. Emperor Maximilian had the roof built back at the end of the 15th century to mark his wedding. It’s a pretty fabulous wedding gift even if it’s not actually gold – instead, the roof is made of 2,657 gilded copper tiles and shines beautifully in the sunlight.

One of the many great things about Innsbruck is the closeness of the mountains. The ‘main’ range rises seemingly straight up behind the river, forested at first and then rock and clean white snow at the top. Turning almost any corner in the old town, you can orient yourself by working out which mountains you’re looking at. Beats a street map hands down.

Part of the reason for staying in Innsbruck was an interesting-looking concert from the Tiroler Symphony Orchestra. We’ve been looking for, and mostly just missing, concerts all the way round; at long last plans aligned and we grabbed two of the few remaining tickets.

I’m so pleased we made this happen – it was a remarkable evening. ‘Distant light‘ took us on a journey through light and shade, from the current to the iconic. Beethoven 5 in the second half: always a joy. The first half was however what I’d really come for.

The programme started with a work by an Innsbruck-born composer: Johannes Maria Staud’s Scattered Light – for Unbalanced and Undirected Orchestra. Challenging, thought-provoking and technically clever – I enjoyed the unusual balance in the orchestra (no low strings, no high woodwind) and the colour palettes he created from it. Undirected? Not so much if you watched the lead violin, who was working his socks off keeping the orchestra together. Clever music and so interesting to watch how it came together.

The piece which will stay with me for a very long time was Latvian composer Pēteris Vask’s Distant Light. I’d listened to a little of Vask’s music while we were travelling through Latvia and enjoyed it, so I was excited to hear this, with the amazing Kristīne Balanas performing the solo.

From the first other-worldly note in the solo violin, I was absolutely captivated, and found the whole work hugely moving. It took me right back to the start of our journey, the thin and ethereal light of the Arctic, the long bus journey from Tromsø with its hours of subtle black and white landscapes, the fragile morning light of northern Finland, the white forests of the Baltic states. Places and images which will stay with me for a long time – and music to match.

The slow movements are so beautifully melancholy, in places heart-breaking bleak – but never far from a warmth that keeps hope on the horizon. There’s a folk-infused movement in the middle which was full of fun and energy – and then the piece comes full circle and finishes in an echo of the opening. Kristīne Balanas’ playing was utterly stunning – heartfelt, soulful, virtuosic and simply beautiful. A privilege to watch.

With a Latvian soloist and conductor, this was clearly a very personal programming choice. In a large, packed (and, being honest, fidgety and distracting) concert hall, both the wonderful performance and the images it evoked felt like a very personal, intimate experience for me too.

From the sublime to the practical. Travelling for this long with our life on our backs means plenty of non-glamorous admin. There’s always a row of washing drying in the hotel bathroom, and every day involves packing and unpacking, working out whether the food in the rucksack has survived safely for another day, checking on the all-important tea bag supplies.  

Friday morning in Innsbruck was spent on two vital things. Firstly: parcelling up some things we no longer need, to send them home and lighten the rucksacks a bit. Now we’re no longer wearing all the thick warm clothes we own, our rucksacks are bulkier and heavier, so it was time to get rid of the warmest of the thermals, the extreme weather hats and gloves. That’s guaranteed an ice storm in Italy next week.

Secondly: getting my hair cut. Once upon a time my German was quite good, but these days it definitely doesn’t stretch to much in the way of hairdressing vocab. However, it’s warm enough not to need a hat any more, and we’ll soon be out of the mountains and into Italian cities, so the need to look a little less wild and woolly was strong. I bravely figured out the right German words and hoped for no difficult questions. Photos along the way will tell if I was successful …

It was a glorious sunny morning today, showing Innsbruck off at its best. Clear blue sky behind the white mountains, sunlight making the ridge lines crisp. Warm light on the buildings and a happy Friday buzz of people out for a stroll and sitting in the outdoor cafes in the marketplace. A lovely long walk along the river finished off our gorgeous 24 hours here: sun on our faces, birdsong in the trees lining the riverside paths. No snow on the ground at all making walking so easy.

Innsbruck has been a joy again – I can’t recommend it highly enough. It has definitely cemented itself firmly as somewhere we’ll revisit soon. Another place we’ve loved; another place I’m sad to leave; another set of happy travel memories.