It started out as one of the worst days of the trip. As I said before, we were cursing the fact that we were trapped in a city we had grown to hate, not wanting to waste the $45 we spent on concert tickets for that night. Resigned to our fate, we decided to try and do all non-touristy things today, to take it easy, and to just try and grin and bear it until the concert at 19:00.

The best way to view Salzburg... from a distance

Laundry was essential. Not a very glamorous use of time, no, but it gave us something to do[44]. By 9 or 10 am we had packed all the laundry we needed washed in Doug's backpack and headed to the station, where there were supposed to be two or three different coin-op Laundromats[45]. Well, knowing how our stay in Salzburg was going, you can guess that the woman there was extremely rude and mean, and yelled that we were too late to get any of our laundry in (at 9 am? They didn't close until 1!). We had wanted to do it ourselves, but that wasn't how it worked there, so there was no way for her to get our stuff washed that day[46]. We then tried the other laundry we found, but realized it was only a dry-cleaning place and they could not wash our clothes either. We then went to the train station information and, amazingly enough, actually found somebody helpful and polite (I think he was new). But he only confirmed our earlier fear--that had been the only Laundromat in all of Salzburg!

So we retreated back to our room, totally disgusted and beaten. We tracked down our hostess, Frau Lenglachner, and asked her how we could possibly get our laundry done. She only agreed to wash our underwear for us; since she had no dryer, she was worried that the heavier clothes would not dry enough. We concurred, knowing that our sink washings were not being very effective. I think we paid her $5 for that tiny load.

We sat in our room, munching on crackers and chocolate and basically wasting time until 14:00. We really didn't want to brave Salzburg anymore. Funny enough, though, that nice attendant in the train station had inadvertently mentioned `Elmo Kino', the city's movie theater, and that had given me an idea. Why not go to a movie with the locals? When we were finally bored enough to go out again, we got dressed for our concert[47] and headed out in the rain (at least we had packed a compact umbrella, plus my jacket had a hood).

Here's a place where the locals hang out--the movie theatre!

After the movie we decided to go ahead and brave the `Little Cook' restaurant, thinking that on this side of the river it was likely not to have many tourists. We were right. The place had about four tables, and one was filled with smoking locals who lit up as soon as we (hesitantly) walked in. A Saudi Arabian[50] waiter approached us, and I tried my German again, and for once he relieved me, not interrupted me, in English. He explained that they would not be serving dinner until the cook arrived at 18:00. This disappointed us to no end, since we would have to be at the chapel some 15 minutes walk away by 18:30 if we wanted a good seat for the concert[51], plus we were leaving the next day[52]. So he said that he himself could whip us up a bowl of vegetable creme soup and bread if we wanted. We originally ordered only one bowl, but it was so delectable that we ordered a second. Doug had a beer and I had a coke, and that little meal filled us up for the rest of the evening, costing us less than $9. Finally a local experience. Oh, and next door was where I finally bought a tin full of MozartKugeln[53] for my piano students to whom I had promised a European treat.

We got to the church in time and stood in the madhouse in front for a minute or two, but when they let us is, we had our choice of seats. But it was a good we came when we did, because by 19:00 the place was packed--all the seats were filled and many people stood along the edges or sat along the pew rows. Of all these people, I suspect that we were probably the only Americans there. To our left were two Italian guys[54], to our right was a Swiss man, and in front was a German lady who was nice enough to give me her program when I had only asked to see it (they charged 3 AS for it at the door). And they all liked talking to us, which works well because Doug equally loves striking up a conversation, either in English (most of the time) or in shattered German. We probably enjoyed this time even more than the concert.

The cathedral's fantastic acoustics, though, made even the horrifically academic pieces sound good. The first composer, Paul Huber[55], produced a giant turd that he called a `double fugue'. The composer was actually there, though, and took an undeserved bow. The second piece, however, was stunningly tranquil and elegant, a set of 5 religious songs in Retro-Romantic[56] by Gion Antoni Derung. Remembering that most gothic cathedrals are in the shape of a cross, imagine the orchestra in the center of the cross, and an alto up on the balcony on one part of the cross, and a solo oboe on the other. Both had a warm, pure tone, and exhibited such simple beauty in the folksy, often 6/8 meter songs. Too bad there are no recordings of these gorgeous songs. The composer was also there, and took a much-deserved bow!

The last piece, for which the concert was billed, was called "Dom Symphonie für 5 Organs & Orchestra". The 39-year-old composer, Klemens Vereno, was the music director for this church, and obviously knew the acoustics of the hall and its capacity[57] because he utilized it well. He himself conducted the work, and, though it was interesting to hear how dimensional it was, the music itself was not very listenable. It lacked any harmony, and his `notes' to explain his music in the program only proved how very contrived and academic it was. Doug had to stifle his laughter as did an "elbow on the keyboard" pantomime to that predictable music. I almost busted up when he feigned sitting on the keyboard at the precise moment of the "big, immense chord". I will say that Mr. Vereno deserved a bow, but for his spatial understanding of the cathedral and not for his composing ability.

After our concert, we went in search of one last touristy thing, the Salzburger Nockerl. We tried several places before we found it [58] and, after we did, we had the attention of everybody in the restaurant. Imagine a giant meringue-type dish larger than a football, being consumed by only two people. It could have fed four. As we ate [59], Doug noticed that the dumb jock sitting next to him was trying to `show off' to us by talking quite loudly to his girlfriend about all the places he'd been to. So Doug countered by rambling off aloud to me acute observations about the concert we'd just attended, which shut this guy up instantly. Silly American! Later, when Doug went off to the bathroom, I noticed that all the European men in the room were staring and smiling at me. First the Japanese men, now the Europeans. Man, all my life, have I been living in the wrong country?