In Tim Dawe’s second story in this series on Austria, he cycles along the Danube River to Linz.
It’s not your standard arrival in a city: cycling across the Nibelungen Bridge spanning the Danube River into Linz. My daughter Katherine and I are on a quest: to cycle from Passau (Germany) on a 350km, six-day journey to Vienna.
On arrival my first, and lasting, impression is that I like Linz. Drenching rain refuses to dampen my enthusiasm for Austria’s third city. Clouds depart leaving shafts of sunlight over Linz’s 13th century Hauptplatz, one of the largest town squares in Europe. It’s wonderful – a magical arrival.
This divided, rectangular square, open to the river, is lined with the stolid, uniform buildings of centuries past. It’s punctuated by the Alter Dom (old cathedral), Altes Rathaus (old town hall) and, centre stage, the bizarre Dreifaltigkeitssäule (holy trinity column) – a 20m baroque twist of white marble erected by grateful survivors of the plague. There are restful islands to sit and watch. Flowers dazzle in spring colours. A modern tram flashes over glistening cobblestones.
Linz seems inviting and liveable. It has a great feel to it; it’s orderly and clean (no litter or graffiti) yet has vitality and style. Its built-form seamlessly weaves renaissance with ultra-modern. Our four-star hotel fits the latter description. The tour operator provides Gasthof-type accommodation, so our check-in isn’t usual. But it’s hard to look sophisticated arriving sodden, lugging soggy maps and panniers – and wearing bicycle pants.
The city’s motto sounds ambiguous: “Linz changes”. Yet Linz has transformed itself from grey, industrial capital of Upper Austria to a city of innovation, design and culture – and the 2009 European Capital of Culture. It’s time to cycle forth to discover more. I head for the river.
Over the river I visit Ars Electronic Center, partly a museum but mainly a workspace for cutting-edge electronic researchers and designers: “a platform for digital arts to explore the future”.
Its mission is to use technologies such as robotics, neuroscience and biotechnology in artistic and productive forms. At night its expansive glass walls, embedded with LED lights, shine swirling colours on the Danube. Colour of a different sort – a circus and permanent funfair – abuts the building; old and new entertainment for all tastes, cheek by jowl.
On the Danube’s south bank is Lentos Museum of Art. The building itself is sculpture. Its black glass façade is covered with the repetitive word: lentos. It too lights up each night casting vivid purple into fast-flowing waters. Lentos offers old and modern art including works from Warhol and Austria’s favourite sons Klimt and Schiele.
It’s fun darting around Linz by bike, traversing twisting streets that trace medieval goat tracks. A sharp turn leads me to Stadtpfarrkirche (parish church) dominating a spacious square. This lovely baroque church is where Emperor Friedrich III is interred – well, actually not all of him, only his bowels. At that time deceased royalty had a habit of leaving bits of themselves all over the country. Not unlike an animal marking (scenting) its territory.
Wheeling along another former goat track, I chance upon K.u.K. Hofbakerei, a bakery of renown with its shopfront clad in carved woodwork. It is a sign to dismount for a coffee and sample the famous Linzer Torte. The cosy café interior is a welcome contrast to old and new monumentalism. Walls are covered with ageing posters and newspapers while military regalia gleam in corners. It pays homage to the Austro-Hungarian Empire and especially Archduke Peter Ferdinand, a royal – and loyal – customer. Current proprietor, Fritz Rath, proudly tells me this site has been used as a bakery since 1371.
Linz has thrown up an eclectic bunch of noteworthy sons: Johannes Kepler (1571–1630), Anton Bruckner (1824–1896) and … Adolf Hitler. There is the Kepler University and the Brucknerhaus. As for Hitler, there’s no mention of the adoring crowds of Austrians cheering on the Anschluss and of Hitler’s plans for Linz as his “European Capital of Culture”. Things have changed since the Hauptplatz was Adolf-Hitler-Platz. Nazism is now a tourism feature. I begin a self-directed walking tour of buildings occupied by the Gestapo, finding the experience unfulfilling. Not only have we moved on, so have some of the buildings.
My assumption that a European capital of culture (Linz shared with Vilnius) is all musty museums and opera houses, is definitely dashed. After all, culture should be seen to be broad and diverse; Linz’s institutions are. They include the wonderful Brucknerhaus concert hall, its sweeping modern lines contrasting with the baroque architecture of nearby Landesgalerie housing classical and contemporary painting and sculpture, Linz Castle, first built in 799, now its largest museum, a puppet museum, the splendid Akustikon, (acoustic experiences), the House of (children’s) Stories. There’s even a museum of dental history. Linz’s cultural program goes all year: rock festivals, Easter passion play, summer rose garden cabarets, and even oddball events such as Der Kranke Hasse (the sick hare).
It’s been a busy day, ducking and diving. After dinner of schweinebraten with sauerkraut, it’s an early night. Suddenly my sleep is shattered with the sounds of explosions. I hope it’s just the nightly fireworks over the Danube.
Next morning there’s time for quick visits to the Landhaus (parliament) and Mozarthaus, home to the Linz Symphony. But first, courtesy of our cycle-tour company, we’re given a tasting with a chocolatier on gentlemanly Herrn Strasse, the poshest of addresses during the 17th century, now restored to its full splendour.
We pick up the bike path across and along, the river at the funfair, cycling through a beautiful greenbelt of remnant forest, with parklands, boating lakes, sporting fields and nature trails. What an antidote for the urban dweller, just minutes from the city. At the city outskirts there’s a broad sweep of industrial land; an economic powerhouse of chemical, oil and steel industries. Today, industry maintains Linz’s prosperity but increasingly, with that other powerhouse – cultural services.
Cycling on, I yearn for a longer stay to really savour likeable Linz.
