Monday morning and it’s time to leave Rechberg and head west towards our next resting point at Salzburg. The area immediately around Hotel Vital Styria, which has been our home for the last three nights, is truly breath-taking. Having explored the environs a little, those vistas from The Sound of Music are still unspoilt and utterly beautiful. It’s tempting to stay and just discover more great roads in our locale but we have plenty of ground to cover.
We kick off with an ascent of the hill which hosted the weekend’s racing. Sadly we get stuck behind another motorist which rather curtails any thoughts of challenging Fagiolli’s times but this gives us time to savour the course. It’s smooth, wide and fast. Even the hairpins present a tempting challenge but one’s eyes are constantly drawn to the abundant street furniture and hazards which would pass the racers’ noses at 120mph plus.
Beyond the climb itself, we encounter glorious and picturesque forest-lined roads. Huge, mature coniferous trees disappear in waves in every direction with big views poking out during breaks in the arboreal action. It’s about half an hour from our hotel back to civilisation but it’s enough to convince us that we must come back – and next time make more time to drive for driving’s sake.
Our first target is the Red Bull Ring near Zeltweg, about an hour from Rechberg. This area has a long history of motor racing, with Grand Prix held on Zeltweg airport before the legendary Österreichring was constructed in 1969. The airport still exists and sits on a broad plain between the mountains, with the Red Bull Ring sitting just to the north, mountains behind and that vast plain shaping long views in all other directions. It’s certainly a spectacular location for a race track.
We have a reasonable distance to cover today so we haven’t allocated too much time to this stop-over but we’re keen to have a poke around and you never know what you might find at a Grand Prix circuit mid-week. The facility is as glossy as you’d expect for something funded by Red Bull dollars: It’s clean, precise, modern and tasteful. There’s a distant V8 rumble from an unidentified vehicle lapping the course but our first stop is to the Jochen Rindt memorial. A simple bust in tribute to one of Austria’s most celebrated and mourned sons. Even among the Red Bull sheen, there’s opportunity for reflection.
The on-site shop is open and mercifully for my bank balance a wonderful-looking book charting the history of the circuit is in German only. Our curiosity gets the better of us and we wander over to the pit lane to find out a bit more about what’s going on. Remarkably, we’ve stumbled upon a couple of retired F1 drivers, a film crew and an AC Cobra. Mark Webber and David Coulthard, both former Red Bull drivers, are evidently engaged in a filming event of some kind. Having had the garage door closed on our noses, we retreat to the Bistro above the pitlane to observe activities.
The Bistro warrants mention. Situated a couple of stories up, polite staff serve delicious coffee in an elegant and restrained environment; a full-length balcony offers perfect views of the start line. I’m a self-confessed motor racing elitist and whole-heartedly endorse the race track greasy spoon (see Mallory or Cadwell Park) but this is really rather nice. I wonder how one goes about getting access to the balcony over a Grand Prix weekend.
Back to the present and we’re trying to suss out the nature of the filming event. The Cobra is probably not entirely original – it looks like a Dax Rush or equivalent but no matter; it sounds awesome. A chap we presume to be the owner does a few laps before Webber dons Coulthard’s helmet and performs a couple of laps himself. Since returning home we discovered that the filming is for a German-language TV show and there’s some video on YouTube.
It seems strange to bump into a couple of members of the racing royal family but, if we can stumble upon Lewis Hamilton at Mont Tremblant then why not a couple of Red Bull athletes at the company’s own circuit?
The celebrities are using a short track which turns right half-way along the up-hill second straight and loops behind the pits along the GP layout, probably about half the distance of the full circuit. We head up to the highest point of the facility to see it with the benefit of elevation. Sadly there isn’t the time to chase the layout of the mighty old Österreichring but that will be a fine reward for the next trip. The bar at the top isn’t open so we have to imagine a beverage in our hands. Still, it’s warm, sunny and there’s that off-beat V8 soundtrack filling our ears. This is pretty good.
It’s time to saddle up and continue our progress onwards towards Salzburg. It’s not too far but we want to enjoy the best of the countryside and avoid autobahns where we can. We first head north towards Trieben before branching west to the delightfully-monickered Grimming. It’s a surprise to encounter a travelling circus, complete with a train of camels – for apparently ‘train’ is the collective noun for a camel gathering – grazing peacefully.
At this stage, our route is fairly flexible – we can see some smaller roads in the atlas but decide to play it by ear, depending on how we find things. From Grimming, the roads are fantastic. We don’t appear to lose or gain altitude particularly quickly; in fact it feels as if we spend most of the time gently rising and falling in pastures and valleys without the need to ascend scores of hairpins. That said, the descent into Bad Ausee is incredible: Smooth, well-sighted roads which cling to the rock face on one side and present a dizzying fall on the other. This is very different from the jeopardy of the Furka Pass in Switzerland but no less engaging.
We settle into a rhythm which is matched a couple of days later during subsequent driving: Wide open section of fun roads where right-foot restraint is paramount; picturesque, traditional village; wide open section; picturesque village. Somehow it’s never less than surprising to find another quaint, borderline creepy, village as if lifted from a Brothers Grimm fairytale; all gothic script and angular timber buildings. It’s surprising to find snow on the grass verges, but the roads are clear, dry and grippy.
By early afternoon we are making fine progress towards Salzburg and decide we’re ready for a bite to eat. Sitting alone on a gentle crest, with a view opening out to distant snow-capped mountains, we chance upon a delightfully weird and creepy little cafe and just can’t resist. You know you’ve discovered a gem when there’s a giant picture of three children untidily scoffing chocolate on the wall.
The cafe sits adjacent to a confectioner’s premises which seems to produce and sell traditional Austrian delicacies. As tempting as they are, we are really after something more substantial. The ‘oldtimer’ cafe next door is just the ticket. The entire place is packed with old car and motorcycle memorabilia including, rather unusually several actual cars and motorcycles. The Austrian / German obsession with mannequins means that some of the vehicles are being piloted as well. I struggle through with some schoolboy German and somehow we end up with quite a tasty meal but the whole vibe is bizarre – but, I suppose, thoroughly authentic.
We pause to savour the wonderful views and fresh air before continuing our journey west. We have another automotive diversion before we reach Salzburg – the Salzburgring, a circuit which, until 2015, held the Austrian round of the World Touring Car Championship. Given our earlier good fortune at the Red Bull Ring, we can’t help wondering what treats might lay in store here.
The circuit sits in a typically pretty spot about eight miles from Salzburg; it’s fairly rural but there are signs of civilisation. On arrival we drive down to the pits and intend to have a nose around. Unfortunately we are ordered to leave the area immediately and are shepherded away from the pitlane and back to the entrance where we are permitted very limited views of the track itself. It’s a slightly surprising attitude given that the day’s track activity is simply a follow-the-leader BMW event featuring a handful of road-going 1-series hatchbacks.
It’s hard to say too much about the place on that basis, other than it possesses a Draconian attitude towards inquisitive foreign visitors. There’s certainly not much to hold one’s interest. The location is nice but less spectacular than the Red Bull Ring. The topography is impressive and it’s probably a hoot to drive but it’s not what you’d call a classic in the Spa / Nurburgring mould. Maybe we’ll try it again if we’re ever in the area but compared to a generally positive experience at other circuits, this is a disappointment.
That said, our short stop meant we were ahead of schedule and therefore easily distracted when we find ourselves driving past a Red Bull-liveried jet fighter parked outside an industrial unit a few miles further towards Salzburg. It transpires that the jet is part of a small private museum called the Manro Classic. This afternoon we seem to be the only visitors so the place is virtually opened specifically for us. The proprietor heads into the main collection room, puts some jazz on the jukebox and leaves us to it.
The collection is dedicated, broadly, to cars and music. It’s actually hard to describe but imagine collecting ‘stuff’ for a lifetime and, rather than selling anything, you simply keep it and put it in a museum. This applies equally to cars as it does to car magazines.
The main display room is densely packed with delectable classic cars. At one end there’s a full-size stage, complete with mannequins of the Blues Brothers mid-performance. The cars are displayed in neat rows and unusually many of them are facing nose-in which means you get a good opportunity to count the exhaust pipes on a Ferrari Testarossa – a habit of mine since childhood. In between the cars sits all manner of motorised ephemera such as a jet engine, motorcycles, models and Ferrari exhaust systems for sale. It’s eccentric and fun.
The other rooms contain musical instruments, models, an Ilmor IndyCar engine, magazines and toys. This is all framed by a family backdrop which includes a parrot in a cage, giant boxer dog and the proprietor eating his eat at a long dining table in the corner. He beckons us over to join him and his daughter translates. He even shares his meal with us, handing slices of ham and breadsticks for us to enjoy; there aren’t many car museums where the owner is prepared to break bread with his customers. It’s a crazy place and we’re both so glad to have made the effort to check it out – I doubt any two visits would be the same.
We have two nights in Salzburg and arrive in the late afternoon on a stunning day. Our lodgings are pretty basic but it’s comfortable and the parking is secure. Rain is forecast for Tuesday so we take to our feet to explore while the sun’s out. I’ve virtually no preconceptions about Salzburg and, beyond it being the birthplace of Mozart, knew little about it. It’s a little disconcerting after several days in relative wilderness to find ourselves surrounded by hordes of tourists suddenly.
The old town, near the river, is truly stunning. There are pretty parks, open piazzas, narrow atmospheric streets and looming gothic buildings around every corner. The whole area sits under the shadow of the mighty castle, high above us. We find some terrific, authentic grub in an ancient beer hall right in the centre of the old town which gives the opportunity to sample the local pilsner as well. Certainly you’d struggle to run out of good dining options during a short city break.
Tuesday is as grey and rainy as forecast and the atmosphere of the city is completely different to Monday. The monolithic, gothic buildings seem foreboding and dark below heavy skies and the castle feels as unwelcoming as you’d hope from a storied military strong holding. In spite of the precipitation, we explore as much as we can, though avoid the abundant museums in favour of architecture, of which there is a great deal.
The castle is fascinating and continued military activity until well into the 20th century. As with so many, similar, places it has grown new limbs over the years creating a fascinating mix of construction techniques, visuals and history. That regular creepy Austrian vibe is at its most vivid in a puppet display which is every bit as terrifying as it sounds. We find the time to explore most of the old town, including the incredible Petersfriedhof – St Peter’s Cemetery. The oldest burial ground in Salzburg, it’s nestled below a rock face and surrounded by buildings and, while very different, is as beguiling as St Louis Cemetery No. 1 in New Orleans.
There’s certainly a good deal more to Salzburg than our short, rainy visit permits us to explore. For eager cultured types (I would certainly not count myself in their number) it must be manna from heaven as the number of museums dedicated to the arts is remarkable. That it equally rewards those of us who love architecture, food and machinery is fantastic.