Destination: Fiction: Europe '81: Innsbruck

Often when you’re searching for something you won’t find it. And sometimes you come across something even better. That’s exactly what happened when I was trying to find one of the souvenirs I’d bought in Vienna. I have no idea where it’s hiding. But I did stumble across an old essay about the day I spent in Innsbruck, written at a time when the memories were much fresher.

Innsbruck, Austria (1981)

October 13, 1989

It was eight years ago that I wrote “Austria smells so good” in my diary during my first trip to Europe. I still feel the same way. My strongest memories are of the smells, sights and sounds of the streets I explored during the three weeks I spent abroad. And if you asked me to tell you about the Europe I discovered, these are the kinds of things I would want to share with you now.

Compared to the anticipation before a trip and the reminiscing afterwards, the time a person actually spends travelling is usually the shortest part of the total travel experience. The memories you bring home can last a lifetime and give meaning to the memorabilia you've collected along the way. And often the most enduring memories are the sensory impressions you pick up, perhaps without realizing their significance until many years later.

Inn River, Tributary of the Danube (1981)

To illustrate my point, I can't remember the name of a particular restaurant in Innsbruck where I had breakfast after arriving by overnight train from Vienna. But these things I do recall quite clearly. It was in a dark, antiquated cellar, with heavy beams spanning the ceiling. This was a sharp contrast to the piercing sunshine breaking through the morning mists that obscured the mountaintops rising into view at the end of the street. In this last refuge from daybreak I was served a simple but delectable breakfast: a steaming cup of hot chocolate that soothed away the September morning chill, and a small plate of rolls to be slathered in ambrosia – an apricot preserve that was not too sweet, not too tart, but a perfect foil for the creamy chocolate that washed it over my taste buds.

Early Morning on Maria-Theresien Strasse (1981)

I remember the smells of Innsbruck so well that it seems like only yesterday I took a stroll through her winding cobblestone streets. A profusion of enticing aromas wafted through the still morning air, converging into one sweet fragrance. It was a little like coffee, also like chocolate, and with just a hint of spice. It dared me to guess what it was but it was too sublime to put into words.