Photo by Miranda Siegel 

Wondering how we captured this excellent sky-high view over Salzburg?

We didn’t climb Mönchsberg, the mountain from which we snapped the photo. Instead, we entered a building in Museumsplatz, pressed a button the size of a dog’s paw, and took a bizarre James Bond-ish elevator straight up through the mountain rock.

Mönchsberg stands approximately 523 meters high and forms a fitting backdrop for the spires of the Altstadt. It provides a quick escape from the Altstadt’s tourist-congested bowels on a summer day, and offers a host of afternoon diversions. Numerous hiking paths, outdoor sculptures and installations, and a huge panoramic terrace are among the delights.

The mountaintop is also home to the second component of Museum der Moderne, the first of which—Rupertinum—can be found in the Altstadt. The gray, box-like museum, designed by the Münich architect firm Friedrich Hoff Zwink, is visible from the ground and showcases contemporary international art. It can be accessed for an additional €8.

Tickets for the Mönchsbergsaufzug (Mönchsberg Lift) are €2.90 roundtrip and €1.80 one-way. If you’re feeling particularly frugal (and energetic) you can reach the top of Mönschberg from the stairs at Toscaninihof in about 15 minutes.

Mozartkugeln boxes are stacked in pyramid form in countless Salzburg shop windows, bearing the sweet beponytailed face of W.A. himself.

Salzburg confectioner Paul Fürst dreamed up the chocolate-nougat-marzipan balls to sell in his shop back in 1890. He named them Original Salzburger Mozartkugeln after the city’s famous son. Much to Fürst’s dismay, other manufacturers began to cash in on the success of the chocolates. Nowadays visitors can choose from a whole slew of different-sized boxes. Some are even shaped like the little violins.

Intrigued by all this fuss, we ventured into a branch of the shop where it allegedly all began—Konditerei Fürst.

Our verdict? Tasty, but a little too soft in the center. The marzipan component is fundamental to the kugel. If you like marzipan, hop on board; if not, you’ll probably want to pass.

While marketed proudly as Salzburg’s hometown chocolate, it’s not hard to find Mozartkugeln outside of the city, or even beyond Austria’s borders. We spotted them among the clog keychains, pot-leaf visors, and stroopwafel canisters at Amsterdam Schiphol airport! We’ve even spotted them on a shelf crowded with Ukrainian jams in Brighton Beach!

Mozartkugeln, you’ve done your hometown proud.

Photograph by Miranda Siegel

We don’t want to give Salzburg a bad rap, and we especially don’t want to give Salzburg’s incredible bakeries a bad rap, but we couldn’t help cringing after discovering the above-pictured cupcakes in a cafe display case in Mozart’s hometown.

The display case started out cute. Men in top hats formed with cones, soldiers and clowns comprised the majority of the cupcakes’ characters. While our first instinct when glancing at their smiling faces was “awwwww,” it wasn’t long before we felt pits in our stomachs.

We wonder if images like these are seen as overtly racist; it’s unclear whether this type of imagery is considered unhealthy or offensive in Austrian culture.

Still…Salzburg! The last place we want to see signs of potential racial ignorance is in our treasured baked goods.

photograph courtesy of currybet

Our ongoing quest for a “scene” in touristy Salzburg brought us to a music venue in residential Schallmoos, just north of Kapuzinerberg: Rockhouse.

At first we were dorked out by the name: Rockhouse? Is Salzburg ironic enough for a name like this to work? Surely the name was meant literally. Was this going to be charming or embarrassing?

But we were the ones charmed when we arrived at Rockhouse, for we realized it was carved out of none other than ROCK—the rock of the Kapuzinerberg, to be precise. Giant wire-covered rocks adorned the lawn out front, while the entrance gave way to a cavernous space defined by its craggy walls. Kids festooned with punk studs slouched around tables drinking beer. On the mainstage, a local band was covering System of a Down’s “We’re on Drugs” to a crowd squealing “Innsbruck! Innsbruck!” Guess someone was from Innsbruck.

On the other side of the entrance, techno throbbed in a torpedo-shaped bar crowded with an artsier set.

ARGEKultur this was not—and without a restaurant serving Knödel, it never could be—but at least we’d found another spot where the Salzburg scene lives. Rock out.

Editor’s note: Check out Miranda’s previous post on the rock scene in Salzburg.

photograph courtesy of jonnnnn

Most major European tourist destinations want so badly for you to shop at their luxury stores that they even publish little ritzy “how-to” pamphlets, as though you need help figuring out how to use your credit card.

But all good Cheapos know that it’s the fleamarkets, not Louis Vuitton, that deserve our hard-earned euros. Not only are fleamarkets cheap, they’re a great way to connect with a city. Which material possessions inhabitants choose to own (and give away) is also quite revealing.

In an effort to supplement our touristy experience of Salzburg, we made the journey to a fleamarket—or Flohmarkt, in German—in Kleingmeinerhof, a suburb southeast of the city center. It took some planning to get out there. The signs advertising the fleamarket weren’t in English and we weren’t exactly sure where we were going.

But Mensch, was it worth it! The small wooden pavilion housing the Flohmarkt was packed with so much bric-a-brac that not even your devoted fleamarket-crazed editor had the energy to pick through everything. Genuine Lederhosen! Austrian Kinder board games! An ominous photo of grinning woman and baby dated 29.6.1961! Handmade leather sandals! A ratty backpack shaped like an owl!

Topping it all off, a 1960s German pop soundtrack in the background—Heino: is it you?!—and home-baked cream cakes rounded out the experience.