Linz: Several Snafus, Seven Sorrows, and a Sumptuous Supper

Click HERE for a Linz slideshow

On Wednesday, I finally get clean clothes! My clean clothes situation was already getting a little dicey in Salzburg on the 17th. I had asked at the Europa desk about getting laundry done and was told that guest laundry was not handled on Sundays, and definitely not on Palm Sunday, because, after all, the laundry people deserved a day off, too. Sundays are considered sacrosanct in Austria—the country practically shuts down. This is an abrupt conceptual shift from service-oriented American business practices that I’m used to, but it is a reasonable approach assuming that one is used to it and can plan for it. If one is travelling, though, it can create problems—such as the need to wash one’s socks and one’s underwear in one’s hotel bathroom sink.

On Monday when we checked into the Wolfinger, I again asked about laundry. It was, I was told, not a service that the hotel normally provided. However, there was a nearby laundry where I could take my clothes. On Tuesday morning after breakfast, I asked the desk clerk where the laundry was located. Then Kathy asked if it was a laundry or laundromat. The meaning of her question was probably lost in translation. So she tried again. “Do we have to do the laundry or will it be done for us?” This question, I suspect, was also misinterpreted. The desk clerk sighed, “We will arrange to have one of our maids take your laundry to be done. Just bring it to the desk.” So we left it at that. She apparently thought the spoiled American tourists were asking her if they really had to trouble themselves with taking the clothes to be laundered. In fact, my original plan was not be troubled with dealing with laundry—so maybe I am a spoiled American tourist.

So Wednesday morning, garbed in freshly laundered clothes, we meet in the Hauptplatz with a guy named Johan who guides us on a walking tour of central Linz. Madeline had arranged the tour with Johan after participating in a tour he guided for the Austro-American Society. We find Johan to be personable, knowledgeable, and interesting. He shows us the Altes Rathaus, built in 1638, and spends some time in the Hauptplatz, and talks about how Hitler would draw crowds when speaking from a balcony overlooking the square. We see the Kepler Haus, where Kepler lived in the early 1600’s, and tour the Neuer Dom, the massive neo-Gothic cathedral built in the 1800’s. And we stop at a bakery to sample the locally famous Linzertorte and drink some coffee. During this stop, Johan sits with us and we have a pleasant chat. We find out that he has lived in Korea and the U.S., has a background in software, but is currently trying to establish a business as a tour guide.

Linzertorte is OK—the guidebooks all say that no trip to Linz would be complete without sampling this treat, so I can say that my trip was complete. One Linzertorte claim to fame is that it is the oldest recipe in the world. A recipe in the Admont Abbey in Austria for Linzertorte dates to 1653. It is a crumbly, short pastry containing lots of ground hazel nuts and a little flour, some unsalted butter and egg yolks, and a little cinnamon for flavor. It’s layered with jelly or jam and served with big dollops of whipped cream. If I were into desserts, or if it were made of chocolate, I would have liked it a lot. Many people, I’m sure, would get really excited about this pastry.

Post-Linzertorte: Outside Bakery

Madeline works with a teacher named Ernst who has invited us to come to his house for a meal on this day. Ernst lives in the foothills of the Alps near the little town of Amstetten, which is maybe 30 miles east of Linz. We take the train to Amstetten and Ernst meets us there and drives us over some very picturesque winding roads to his house. Ernst and his wife live in an attractive old house that they’ve beautifully remodeled and added to. We have our meal at a table by a large picture window with a panoramic view of the woods and pastures stretching out in the valley below. The meal and the conversation are both fine. Ernst and his wife talk about their travels to Canada, Australia, and Alaska, and Ernst and Madeline tell us about some of the projects they have done with his classes. They serve a wonderful array of Austrian food: Fresh salads adorned with little flowers from their lawn, beef roulade, semmel knoedel (a type of dumpling), cranberry sauce and peach chutney. For desert, they produce two huge strudels— poppyseed, and cherry vanilla. We finish with some local pear cider and schnapps. Finally, Ernst drives us, well-fed and happy, back to the train station in Amstetten and we travel by train back to Linz. Kathy and I are back at the Wolfinger by nine o’clock and promptly go to bed.

View from Ernst's Window

Thursday morning is warm and sunny and after breakfast Kathy and I take a walk through the Alstadt, and up to the Schloss, a hilltop fortress, now a museum, near the Danube, and then along the Danube itself. The walk gets a little long for me but it is a beautiful morning.

The plan for the day is to visit Poestlingberg, a hilltop overlooking the Danube and much of Linz. The day is not without its snafus. Snafu #1: Madeline and Mike had originally planned to meet us at our hotel before we went on our Poestlingberg excursion, but last minute, Madeline calls me on our hotel room phone and suggests that since her apartment is on the way to Poestlingberg, that we should meet them at her train stop. I, unfortunately, misinterpret the message and we end up waiting for a long time at two different train stops before we finally connect. Snafu # 2: We make a grocery store stop to stock up on provisions for the picnic. One item is olives packed in oil, which Madeline, understandably, has to sample. Unfortunately, she doesn’t properly seal the olive container, and by the time it is discovered to be leaking, there is oil all over the other food, the bag, and Madeline’s clothes. So Madeline becomes a little testy. But in fact, the weather is beautiful, the view from the hilltop is spectacular, the food is good, and the company, in spite of some testiness, is great. So it is a good day.

To get to the top of Poestlingberg we ride steepest non-cog rail line in Europe—a grade of nearly 1:10. At the top we picnic and enjoy the view, and check out the Sieben Schmerzen Mariens Church, a huge Baroque pilgrimage church built in 1748. Sieben Schmerzen Mariens translates as “The Seven Sorrows of the Virgin Mary.” Not being a Catholic, I didn’t realize that Mary had seven sorrows, but for the record they are:

1. Hearing a prophecy from Simeon the Righteous when Jesus is still an infant that alludes to his crucifixion.
2. The flight into Egypt to escape King Herod’s killing of infants.
3. Losing Jesus in the Temple
4. Meeting Jesus on the way to Calvary.
5. Jesus’ death on the cross.
6. Receiving the body of Jesus in her arms.
7. Placing the body of Jesus in the Tomb.

The seven sorrows idea dates back to at least the 13th century and is a great teaching tool, but I think it is kind of stretch coming up with seven, just because that number has special significance. For instance, the story of losing Jesus in the temple and finally finding him sitting with the elders and wowing them with his wisdom is kind of a cute story. Why is this a sorrow?

Following on this theme, I try to compose the Seven Sorrows of Our Pilgrimage to Poestlingberg: 1-The Great Confusion of Meeting at the Streetcar Stop. 2-The Anointing of the Grocery Bag with Oil. 3-The Long Quest for an Ideal Picnic Spot. Nope. That’s only three. To come up with seven, I would have to stretch, too. The day just wasn’t that sorrowful.

Checking Out the View from Poestlingberg

Regardless, the church is spectacular. I can add this to the growing list of spectacular churches that I’ve seen in the past week.

Sieben Schmerzen Mariens Church

Also on top of Poestlingberg is the Marchengrotte Railroad, a 100-year old miniature railroad that runs underground through “a colorful world of dwarfs and other displays.” Is this whimsical or hokey? I am not able to find out since it is closed for the day.

Scary Clown Figure Which Probably Has Something to do with the Marchengrotte Railroad

We finish our Poestlingberg excursion by midafternoon, collect our luggage and board the train for Vienna.