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| "The hills are alive...with the Sound of Music" |
Location: SALZBURG, AUSTRIA
Tired of being the line leader, Mom and I decided to take two tours the following day. I half expected to encounter someone from my middle school in Illinois or my elementary schools in Alabama or Washington D.C. Chances were extremely high at this point. With no reunions in sight, Mom and I partook in something so touristy, kitschy and tacky, but something nonetheless representative of a beloved childhood memory: The Sound of Music Tour.
It is one of those movies that you sing along to, even though Julie Andrew's voice is superior to all mezzo sopranos (including a little brother who hasn't yet hit puberty) and one that the parents don't have to ponder whether it could have "bad connotations" as so often cited by my parents regarding other movies, including Disney. It kept my brother and myself passive for 167 minutes on long, family car rides. And we had a lot of long car rides, always ending in Texas.
As the tour name insinuates, it was a veritable walk-down-movie-lane, except on a bus. With fifty others singing off key.
The fictionalized movie is based upon the true story of the Von Trapp Family Singers from Salzburg. While working at Nonnberg Abbey in 1926, Maria was asked to tutor one of seven children of widowed naval commander, Georg von Trapp. They were married in 1927, when Maria was 22 and Georg was 47 and their first child was born three months later. They went on to have two additional children, bringing the total of ten children.
No Nazi love interest for the eldest daughter. No discernible age difference between the happy couple or a six month baby bump under a white frock as Maria walked down the aisle. No midnight escapes from the Nazis. For that matter, had they escaped into the Alps, wearing very little protective clothing, and survived the temperament, they would have found themselves in Berchtesgaden, underneath the Kehlsteinhaus, otherwise known as Hitler's Eagles' Nest.
The United States Library of Congress selected the film for preservation in the National Film Registry as it was deemed "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant". The movie was aesthetically pleasing. But culturally and historically significant, I think not. Perhaps the non-fiction version was too sordid a love affair for Rodgers and Hammerstein, but to not even use the real names, events, or make the escape even feasible...No wonder most Salzburgers have never seen the film!
The bus continued its cheery sing-along, but as the tour progressed I seemed to be the only one having my childhood crushed. We were ushered to the gazebo made famous during the duet between Liezl and Rolf in "Sixteen Going on Seventeen". But there would be no jumping bench to bench, for me or anyone. The gazebo is locked up tight, but you are allowed to take pictures on the outside.
The large manor made famous as the von Trapp homestead is, in fact, two separate homes. One home provided its back siding for some of the more infamous scenes, like when Maria and the children fall out of the boat into the lake. Another home was the front side of the "manor", which can be spotted if one looks quickly on the tour as the bus speeds by on the highway.
Another spoiler: The fictionalized von Trapp wedding did not even occur in Salzburg. For the tour, we were taken to the Stiftskirche Mondsee, located about a 20 minute drive outside of Salzburg in Mondsee, Austria. It was a pretty Catholic church, but not nearly as grandiose or exceptional as the movie. In fact, it was rather dark and gaudy.
After arriving back in Salzburg a little dejected, we joined the next tour heading to the Austrian Alps, including a tour of the Salt Mines. Salzburg translated means "salt mountain"
Tired of being the line leader, Mom and I decided to take two tours the following day. I half expected to encounter someone from my middle school in Illinois or my elementary schools in Alabama or Washington D.C. Chances were extremely high at this point. With no reunions in sight, Mom and I partook in something so touristy, kitschy and tacky, but something nonetheless representative of a beloved childhood memory: The Sound of Music Tour.
It is one of those movies that you sing along to, even though Julie Andrew's voice is superior to all mezzo sopranos (including a little brother who hasn't yet hit puberty) and one that the parents don't have to ponder whether it could have "bad connotations" as so often cited by my parents regarding other movies, including Disney. It kept my brother and myself passive for 167 minutes on long, family car rides. And we had a lot of long car rides, always ending in Texas.
As the tour name insinuates, it was a veritable walk-down-movie-lane, except on a bus. With fifty others singing off key.
The fictionalized movie is based upon the true story of the Von Trapp Family Singers from Salzburg. While working at Nonnberg Abbey in 1926, Maria was asked to tutor one of seven children of widowed naval commander, Georg von Trapp. They were married in 1927, when Maria was 22 and Georg was 47 and their first child was born three months later. They went on to have two additional children, bringing the total of ten children.
The family began singing in Austria in 1935 and moved to the United States shortly before the Nazi annexation of Austria in 1938. There are conflicting accounts about their departure from Austria, but the majority state that the family left prior to the Anschluss on a train to Italy and then sailed to the United States.
No Nazi love interest for the eldest daughter. No discernible age difference between the happy couple or a six month baby bump under a white frock as Maria walked down the aisle. No midnight escapes from the Nazis. For that matter, had they escaped into the Alps, wearing very little protective clothing, and survived the temperament, they would have found themselves in Berchtesgaden, underneath the Kehlsteinhaus, otherwise known as Hitler's Eagles' Nest.
The United States Library of Congress selected the film for preservation in the National Film Registry as it was deemed "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant". The movie was aesthetically pleasing. But culturally and historically significant, I think not. Perhaps the non-fiction version was too sordid a love affair for Rodgers and Hammerstein, but to not even use the real names, events, or make the escape even feasible...No wonder most Salzburgers have never seen the film!
Another spoiler: The fictionalized von Trapp wedding did not even occur in Salzburg. For the tour, we were taken to the Stiftskirche Mondsee, located about a 20 minute drive outside of Salzburg in Mondsee, Austria. It was a pretty Catholic church, but not nearly as grandiose or exceptional as the movie. In fact, it was rather dark and gaudy.
After arriving back in Salzburg a little dejected, we joined the next tour heading to the Austrian Alps, including a tour of the Salt Mines. Salzburg translated means "salt mountain"
Once on the salt mine tour, claustrophobia set in. I was in my long winter coat, two layers of clothes, a jumpsuit provided by the organizers and was seated ponied-up with six other people on what strongly resembled a log flume from those adventure park rides, but with rails. The train, made of about seven cars, hurriedly descended into caverns intermittently-lit by lone industrial bulbs. The wind blew past quickly and the temperature drastically dropped as we dropped. At least that it what my face, the only piece of exposed anything, detected.
"Here. Here is for you. Stand next to speaker," the abrasive Austrian said as he ushered us to a small box labeled ENG/MAN/FRE/ESP. He pushed the ENG button and we listened to a recorded explanation about our current location and frankly, why we should give a damn. All in an nice English package.
By about the third cattle drive into yet another cavern with another piece of antiquated and unrecognizable machinery, I didn't give one damn any more. Let's be honest. It was about salt. Salt mining, salt collection, salt distribution. It was salt in my Sound of Music wounds.
"Here. Here is for you. Stand next to speaker," the abrasive Austrian said as he ushered us to a small box labeled ENG/MAN/FRE/ESP. He pushed the ENG button and we listened to a recorded explanation about our current location and frankly, why we should give a damn. All in an nice English package.
By about the third cattle drive into yet another cavern with another piece of antiquated and unrecognizable machinery, I didn't give one damn any more. Let's be honest. It was about salt. Salt mining, salt collection, salt distribution. It was salt in my Sound of Music wounds.
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