Got up, looked out; same as yesterday, a white wall of fog. This was not going to be the Zugspitze day either. At breakfast there were rumours from other guests that the next day might be better! Our previous day's travel had pretty well taken care of two day's worth of sightseeing that I had planned, except for Linderhof, and while just that one castle could have taken up most of a day, with a bit of extra sightseeing added, we didn't really want to do that. So we moved onto my Plan C, Mittenwald and Innsbruck, with the added possibility of going to the Tiroler Landestheater in Innsbruck for "My Fair Lady" - in German!
Mittenwald is about 15 km east and a bit south of Garmisch-Partenkirchen, perhaps 20 km by road, just inside Germany. However, the GPS traffic receiver (which worked in Germany) picked up a road closure that sent us on a 70 km detour north, east, and then back south, adding more than an hour to the trip, as at least half the route was along narrow roads, climbing mountains in steep hairpins, and more of the same down mountains. (Later I discovered that there would have been a more direct route, except it would have involved a U-turn, as we were beyond the turn-off when the traffic warning arrived - and I had programmed U-turn avoidance, as usually they are just a nuisance; you win, you lose! - see later discussion of gemuetlich). In compensation, the route took us through some countryside we would not have seen otherwise, including a couple of very pretty mountain lakes, one large enough that it was a sailing destination - we realized that because we had followed a car towing a sailboat for what seemed like hours along the aforementioned hairpins (German drivers might have passed, I am not that suicidal!).
Mittenwald, in the Isar valley, a river that goes on to run through Munich into the Danube, is a worthwhile destination, a mountain village of probably less than 6000 inhabitants whose chief significance is that it is on an old trading route from Italy (Lombardy) over the Brenner pass, to Augsburg, the banking city. It is therefore relatively prosperous, although these days its chief commercial activity is tourism (as the gateway to some very good skiing in Winter, and hiking and mountain climbing in Summer) and the building (for a couple of centuries) of stringed instruments (one institution is a school for luthiers - builders of violins, violas, cellos and basses, also guitars). There is also a violin-building museum.
Mittenwald is a very pretty town, with buildings decorated by paintings as is customary in southern Bavaria and northern Austria. A feature is that most streets have channels with water running in them on both sides, only a foot or two wide, with frequent "bridges." These are not sewers - the water is clear and clean enough to probably be drinkable - but the result of a town in a valley with high snow-covered mountains all around; they are channelled brooks and a part of flood prevention. A prominent feature in the town is the parish church of Sts. Peter and Paul, inside is in the usual rococo style. We were there in time for a wedding to emerge, with all the ladies in the local "dirndl" dresses with lace aprons, and the men in lederhosen or leather knee-breeches, green or gray loden jackets decorated with horn buttons, and hats with mountain goat "beards" or long feathers.
From Mittenwald the drive to Innsbruck is about 40 km, on good roads (and no detours). The city of about 120,000, in the Inn river valley (the Inn is a tributary of the Danube, which it enters at Passau in Germany, and for some considerable distance is the border between Austria and Germany) is almost totally surrounded by high mountain ranges and is a major centre on the route from Italy, through the Brenner Pass, into Germany. It was the centre of the 1964 and 1976 Winter Olympic Games, and is hosting the 2012 1st Youth Winter Olympics - all of which tells you that this is a major winter sports centre. It is the capitol of the Austrian state of Tirol (Tyrol in English - Question: why does English insist on changing the spelling of local names from how the locals spell it, even when the pronunciation is totally the same?).
After parking in an underground garage in the centre of the city, and emerging above ground, the first thing that strikes you is the beauty of the location. Looking in any direction, the horizon is high mountains. Further exploration brings you to the Inn river, and looking in either direction of its valley you see more high mountains, because the Inn valley curves on each side of the city. Thus, the city is in a "bowl" surrounded by beautiful mountains.
Our first order of business, after gasping at the beauty of the scenery, was the box office of the Tiroler Landestheater (land = state in this context, hence the Tirol state theatre). A large official sign announced that tonight's performance of "My Fair Lady" was sold out, but large official signs are not usually up to date, tickets are returned, and so we enquired. Indeed, there were a few tickets left for sale, and the very helpful salesperson told us that the best seats were actually not as good as some less expensive ones in the balcony, except that the balcony seats were single seats, with one sold seat in between - but we could ask the person separating the two seats to move either way, and as Austrians were very polite they would probably do so (as, in the event, they did). Having purchased the tickets, we proceeded to explore the town. Despite its age (the area has been settled since the Stone Age, it was a Roman city, and its coat-of-arms is dated back to at least 1267) the city consists of mainly modern (last few centuries) buildings, the result of heavy damage during WW II, and rebuilding to a common (Austrian) style. Nevertheless, there is lots to see, including some very beautiful churches and the cathedral, and a large central park, with the usual features, including a restaurant/pub.
This being a Saturday, there was lots going on. In the "old"city, which is a rabbits' warren of streets, in the central square, a Dutch brass band of perhaps 30 musicians was playing calssical music and show tunes. (We had seen their bus, and people wheeling cases of drums and tympani down cobble-stone lanes.) There were outdoor restaurants and cafes all around, and those dining, or sipping, had a great concert. Little side streets had interesting shops, including the usual tacky souvenir type; at one of which we saw signs and carrier bags decorated with Austrian humour - the international traffic sign of "No" in this case a silhouette of a kangaroo with a red bar through it, and just in case you didn't get it, the explanation "There are no kangaroos in Austria." Presumably someone, or more than someone, from an unnamed nation, had come and asked for the kangaroos!
We had a late lunch/early supper at one of the outdoor restaurants, and then went for a walk along the Inn river, following promenades on both sides, crossing at frequent bridges, both pedestrian only. While we didn't take one, also available in the parks along the river were horse-drawn carriages, which in the local dialect are called fiakers. A one time, before automobiles, these were the taxies for hire; today they are mainly a tourist attraction. But, an interesting linguistic/religious sidetrip: the "fiaker" taxi sounds like the Irish monk St. Fiacre, who is generally known as the patron saint of gardeners, but because of the similarity of the names, is also the patron of taxi drivers! (The connection arose from the fact that the Hotel de Saint Fiacre in Paris rented carriages. People who had no idea who Fiacre was referred to the small coaches as "fiacres.")
From there, after the usual quick transformation in the parking garage from casual tourists into well-dressed theatre-goers (June puts on a fancy jacket, I throw on a tie and a blazer) it is off to "My Fair Lady." Indeed, after the usual ordering of wine for intermission, and the casual southern-German/northern Austrian casual pointing at where we would find our drinks (and yes, they were there) we proceeded to our seats, and did persuade the gentleman sitting between us that he would be happy to sit on the aisle so that we could sit together.
Actually, it was not that simple - it seems that this particular theatre, and maybe all Austrian theatres, is/are quite casual about section/row/seat numbering on the tickets. Our first attempt got us to seats already occupied, and the occupying people were very helpful in pointing us to another section, with the same number, etc. We consulted an usher, who didn't know, and didn't seem to be all that concerned; just sit where you want to, which didn't seem all that helpful, given the house was supposed to be sold out! We did eventually get to the right seats; at least we think so, no one else challenged us. I used to think that the people in Munich had the monopoly on "gemuetlich," the un-translatable German concept of "I'm comfortable, don't bug me, we're alright, don't sweat the small stuff, be happy, it will be ok"; but these Austrian have that all beat.
"My Fair Lady" in German!
An interesting concept! The plot was exactly the same as the English version. So was the location, London; and the period costumes, and the names of characters. The music was the same, except that the words had been translated. Except for the language lessons, which obviously would not have made sense in German. Instead, they were common mis-pronunciations of "lower class" German vs. those of "high" German; and thus Eliza was tutored in the distinction between the "ue" diphthong sound in German, and the "u" sound drifting off towards "e" that "lower class" speakers use(d). Also, the "d" and "t" distinction was part of the plot. To be fair, most Germans now speak a homogenized version promoted by radio and television, although that does not seem to have happened in Austria, where the dialect is still very noticeable, and was used in this production. Certainly, the plot and the music were close enough to the English version that June had no trouble following, although I probably got more out of it because I speak German, and could appreciated the "dialect" jokes.
The singing and acting was quite good, excellent even; certainly up to the usual operatic quality one finds in Europe. Of note also was (again) the very clever use of a rotating stage, which allowed rapid scene changes and avoidance of the usual delays associated with those. (Why are there so few rotating stages on the North American opera/theatre scene; the only one I know of is at Lincoln Centre?)
And, a note on the "better seats" in the balcony rather than the more expensive seats that the box office person had promised. They had great sight-lines, if you leaned sharply forward, otherwise there was a railing directly across your view. At intermission the couple a few seats over clued us in to the secret - instead of sitting on your seat in its normal "down" position you left it up and sat on its top; not all that uncomfortable, and with perfect sight lines. As I said, "gemuetlich."
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Getting out of Innsbruck was interesting. Given the rather hairy (as in hairpin turns) route there, I was worried about the route back. But the problem began much earlier, as we emerged from the underground parking garage, having punched our hotel in Grainau as our destination into the GPS. (Yes, this is another GPS limitation lament!) We are in a deep valley between high mountains in all directions; the GPS is trying to lock onto enough satellites to get a fix on us, as we are moving. When it does (seemingly!) it begins to give me directions that make no sense - turn left, when there is no left turn available, etc. Finally, I realize that the GPS has me located on the wrong side of the river Inn, and I use my own common sense to get me to the side that the d+%@# machine thinks I'm on. After that, it gets me out of town, and high enough up that the satellites cease to have problems being "seen.".
Now, we are left with just the rest of my driving home to Garmisch-Partenkirchen nightmare. The way down, in daylight, was very hairy! What would it be like at night? As it turned out, hairy enough, but not totally so. The detour that we had taken down was avoidable on the way back. Still, we needed to travel over several mountain ranges, on two-lane roads, in absolute darkness except for my car lights. Not a problem, you just drive at a speed that works for you, normally! Except for German drivers (yes, we are in Austria, but, as much as I can tell, all the cars that eventually pass me have Munich registrations, heading home after the musical). Their motto is "If I am on a road with the speed limit 100 km/hr, I must drive 100 km/hr!" - except I wanted to drive 50! So it was a constant procession of several cars behind me, right on my tail, impatiently waiting for even the slightest opportunity to pass me, and me knowing only that on my right was a vertical cliff up, and on my left was a drop of unknown depth down! And, as they roared by me, I suspect I got the finger; charitably I thought they probably knew the road better than me, except as noted most of them did not have local licence plates.
We got back to the hotel, alive to tell the tale. I was tense enough to hit the honour system bar and get a small bottle of wine, just to get to sleep!
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