Great Continental Railway Journeys (2012–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - Hungary to Austria - full transcript
I'm embarking on a new railway
adventure
I'm embarking on a new railway
adventure
that will take me across the heart
of Europe.
I'll be using this,
my Bradshaw's Continental Railway
Guide, dated 1913,
which opened up an exotic world
of foreign travel
for the British tourist.
It told travellers where to go,
what to see
and how to navigate the thousands
of miles of tracks
criss-crossing the Continent.
Now, a century later,
I'm using my copy
to reveal an era of great optimism
and energy
where technology, industry, science
and the arts were flourishing.
I want to rediscover
that lost Europe
that in 1913, couldn't know
that its way of life
would shortly be swept aside
by the advent of war.
My 1913 Bradshaw's in hand,
I'm making a series of journeys
across Europe,
seeking out a lost pre-war world.
Today, I'm exploring the once-great
empire of Austria-Hungary,
domain of the pre-eminent
Habsburg monarchs.
The Habsburgs were one of the most
dynamic
and powerful European families.
In the empire's elegant cities...
We get this magnificent view
of the Chain Bridge.
..I'll immerse myself
in pre-war decadence.
What a beautiful cafe! Isn't it!
And experience
Edwardian tourist attractions.
Raar!
Before heading for the hills.
I never expected anything
as grand and as magnificent as this.
And the emperor's summer home,
from where, in 1914,
Europe departed along the track
to disaster.
I think he knew even then
that this was going to mean war.
My international itinerary begins
in the Hungarian capital Budapest,
then takes me west to Bratislava
in Slovakia.
Travelling along the Danube,
I'll cross into Austria,
where I'll taste the opulent glamour
of Imperial-era Vienna
before continuing on to Salzburg.
Finally, I'll explore
the stunning Salzkammergut,
finishing at the spot
where a fateful decision
sparked a global war
and the end of this extensive
European empire.
I'm in Hungary, which, in 1913
formed one half of a vast empire
alongside Austria.
My Bradshaw's Guide
hints that the Hungarian capital
had historically been
two distinct cities.
"Budapest is situated on both
banks of the River Danube.
"The part on the left bank of
the river is by far the larger,
"though down to the 15th century,
it was inferior in size
"and importance
to the part on the right bank."
It was the unification of those
two parts of the city in the 1870s
that made Budapest
the second capital of the empire
and one of Europe's great cities
in terms of elegance and power.
The railways also played their part
in Budapest's fin-de-siecle boom.
By 1900, Hungary had almost
6,000 kilometres of tracks
fanning out from the capital.
And money was poured into
the grand city centre termini.
This is Budapest's Nyugati station,
one of three major stations
in the city,
built just after Budapest
was unified.
And what a statement of confidence
it is.
Built by the French engineering firm
Eiffel, as in the Eiffel Tower.
I find it absolutely gorgeous,
but it is, these days,
rather faded grandeur.
Opened in 1877, this vast,
elegant railway palace
told visitors they'd arrived
in a city of consequence.
So it's hard to believe
that Budapest as we know it
was then just four years old.
To trace the story of its birth,
I'm following my 1913 guidebook
to the west, or Buda side
of the Danube,
where I'm meeting historian
Laszlo Muntean.
Lazlo.
Hello. Hello, Michael.
Very good to see you.
And from here, you get
such a strong impression
that this was once
two distinct cities.
Exactly.
We are in the Buda side right now
and we are overlooking the Pest side,
which had been completely separated
from the Buda side
by the River Danube.
For centuries, the only way
from the west bank,
home to the settlements of Buda
and Obuda,
to Pest was by ferry.
In the mid 19th century, the best
of British engineering changed that.
It was in 1849 that the two sides
were connected
by a permanent suspension bridge,
the Chain Bridge.
That would be the one mentioned
in my Bradshaw's Guide,
"One of the longest in Europe,"
it says,
"and the work of British engineers
Tierney and Clark." Exactly.
The Chain Bridge is
amongst Budapest's iconic landmarks.
And Lazlo's showing me
one of the best ways to admire it.
Lazlo, you're absolutely right.
As soon as the funicular set off,
we get this magnificent view of
the Chain Bridge. Exactly.
The story of this remarkable bridge
began in Industrial Revolution
Britain,
then impressing the world with
its pioneering constructions
in iron and steel.
Why did the Hungarians turn to
British engineers for this bridge?
Well, Hungarian constructors
back then,
they didn't have
the engineering expertise
to construct a bridge like this.
Just look at the metalwork and the
cables and all the suspension rods.
It was the great Hungarian statesman
Istvan Szechenyi
who decided to import
British technological know-how.
He paid several visits to England.
First in 1815 and then in 1832.
And he was particularly impressed
by William Tierney Clark's
suspension bridges
over the River Thames.
Two bridges in particular.
Hammersmith Bridge and Marlow Bridge.
Szechenyi challenged Tierney Clark
to apply his skill to spanning
the majestic Danube.
The result was a 202-metre-long
suspension bridge,
then amongst the largest
in the world.
This was the first bridge that
brought the two sides together.
It had, of course,
a functional relevance.
It made transportation
and commerce much easier,
but also, it had symbolic importance.
The Chain Bridge,
the construction of the Chain Bridge
was basically the first step
towards the unification
of the cities
on the two sides of the river.
While William Tierney Clark
designed this engineering triumph,
Scottish engineer Adam Clark was
called in to supervise construction.
And his role
in the bridge's history
won him a permanent place
in Hungarian hearts.
Hungary was part of
the Habsburg Empire
and there was a revolution
against the Habsburgs in 1848.
Now, the construction of the bridge
came to an end in 1849,
which was the year when
the revolution was defeated.
During the revolution,
the Austrians, not surprisingly,
they wanted to blow up the bridge,
which was almost ready.
Adam Clark flooded the chain chambers
and prevented the bridge
from being blown up.
All of a sudden, he became
a Hungarian national hero,
although he was a Scotsman.
A canny Scot and a Hungarian hero.
Exactly.
The bridge helped ignite
an economic boom
that ushered in a golden age
in Budapest's history.
In 1873, Buda, Obuda and Pest
were formally united
and Budapest became
the Hungarian capital.
Around the same time, Hungary
was granted
a degree of autonomy
within the empire,
winning the right to govern
its own internal affairs.
In 1904, a new home for the national
parliament was completed,
and was still dazzling
readers of my guide in 1913.
"The Parliament House,"
says my Bradshaw's,
"is an immense Gothic pile
by the architect Steindl,
"with a splendid facade to the
river."
Steindl was greatly influenced
by the parliament in London.
And whereas ours
looks more like a palace,
his came out
looking more like a cathedral.
Inside, it's much more ornate
and highly decorated than ours.
I was once here in 1989, the year
that communism was crumbling,
and I heard a brave young politician
making a speech here,
and I thought to myself,
if ever there's a parliament that
deserves a democracy, this is it.
I'm now leaving the west bank
of the Danube
and crossing the river to Pest.
At the time of my 1913 guidebook,
this part of town
was the beating heart
of commercial Budapest.
And places like this vast
indoor market, opened in 1897,
would have heaved with customers.
If the city owes
some of its engineering
and buildings to the west
you have to remember
that nonetheless, Budapest
was occupied by the Ottoman Turks
for nearly 150 years.
And therefore, as Bradshaw's says,
has a semi-Oriental influence,
to which I would add only that
that is nowhere to be seen more
than in the food, which is
typified by cumin and paprika
and sweet pastries and strudels,
all to be found in this marvellous
market,
which seems to owe its architectural
influence to a railway station.
These days,
Budapest's Great Market Hall
is a magnet for fans
of traditional cuisine.
And there's one local speciality
I have to try.
This is langos?
Yes, this is the langos. What is it?
It's a traditional Hungarian bread.
It's deep fried.
We have sweet and salty, too.
This deep-fried snack
is eaten all over Hungary,
and apparently grew up as a way of
satisfying workers
during the bitterly cold winter.
The traditional savoury option
is sour cream and cheese,
but these days, you can have it
topped with whatever you fancy.
Thank you very much. Enjoy it.
It's lovely and warm,
it's just come out of the fat.
He must have put on to it
a dozen different ingredients.
I really don't know where to begin.
It's absolutely piled high.
How do you like this?
Well, I'm just beginning it at the
moment. Do you eat langos?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Many times.
This is to satisfy many tastes
from many countries of the world.
It's got a mixture of everything.
As we say in English,
everything except the kitchen sink.
Hello. Hello.
Are you enjoying your langos? Yes.
Is it first time you've had it? Yes.
Would you have it again?
Yes. If I will, next time
in Budapest, perhaps.
And you had one, too? Yes.
Were you pleased or disappointed?
I liked it. It was good.
I'm not sure that it's exactly
slimming. What do you think?
No, it's definitely not.
The langos ought really to come
with a manual on how to eat it
because it's very, very tricky.
Wow! Good, though.
Energised by my lunch, I'm seeking
out more of belle epoque Budapest.
One ticket, please.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
Edwardian railway tourists
could explore the city
on its state-of-the-art
transport system.
I was rather surprised by this entry
in my Bradshaw's Guide.
"Underground electric railway
between Gellert Ter,
which is near the river
"and Varosliget,
which is the city park."
In fact, the railway
wasn't even new in 1913.
The first line had been built
in 1896,
making Budapest the second
European city after London
to have an underground railway.
The ambitious project was approved
seven years
after London's first underground
line opened in 1863.
And 2,000 workers were drafted in
to build the tunnels.
I get the impression
that the 70 years
before my Bradshaw's Guide
was published
was an extraordinary period
for Budapest.
The city acquired a new bridge,
a new name.
It became a capital,
built new railway stations,
a new parliament
and a new underground railway.
After a long day marvelling at
this thoroughly modern metropolis,
Edwardian tourists would have craved
a little rest and relaxation.
And this magnificent complex
of baroque buildings
was the perfect place to find it.
The famous Szechenyi baths,
one of Budapest's many mineral spas,
opened in the same year
my guidebook was published.
Bradshaw's tells me Budapest
has bathing establishments
supplied by warm sulphur springs.
If you weren't sufficiently
attracted by the boulevards,
by the cafes, by the goulash,
by the ballrooms or by the opera,
then you might come here
to take the cure,
or to allow your body to float
in the water.
By the late 19th century,
a fashion for water cures
had swept the Continent.
And soon, Budapest's bathing culture
entered its heyday.
City local Naomi Csondor
is an aficionado of the city's
hot-water springs.
Hello, Naomi. Hello.
Great to see you. Great to see you.
What were these waters
supposed to do to you?
This is very good for osteoporosis
and for rheumatism.
And it's excellent as a natural
multivitamin, as well.
What do the waters contain?
First of all, the sulphur,
that we can smell, as well.
And if you taste it,
you don't like it
because it's like a bad eggs taste.
We have some magnesium,
some calcium, ferrum.
For centuries,
the area's mineral springs
were found only on the Buda side
of the river.
But in the late 1800s, engineers
drilled down beneath Pest city park.
By 1913, the first permanent bath
had opened its doors here,
allowing the growing
Pest bourgeoisie
access to the hot, healing waters.
The temperature we're in
is quite like a bath.
It's a very comfortable warm water.
Is that the natural temperature
that it comes from the ground?
It's hard to believe, but the
temperature is 79 degrees centigrade,
how they find it.
This is still today.
But they cool it down.
And so we can bath in it
and swim in it and enjoy it.
79 degrees. That's very hot.
Is that one of the hottest natural
waters? In Budapest, yes.
But not in the country.
In the 1920s,
the medical spa expanded
to include a mixed bathing area.
Today, people hoping to improve
their health
mingle with tourists
and pleasure seekers
in this extraordinary temple
to Budapest's healing springs.
What are you enjoying about the
baths? It's nice and relaxing.
How long have you been in the water?
Too long, probably.
LAUGHTER
You should wallow for about three
hours minimum. No! Yes.
If you're talking about
taking the water,
it means spending time just relaxing,
taking it in.
So, would you do it again?
ALL: Definitely!
I'm going to come back
tomorrow. Back tomorrow? Yeah.
What about all the sights
of Budapest?
What about the Parliament Building?
No. Yeah.
THEY LAUGH
But the baths is the top thing
for you? ALL: Definitely!
I certainly understand why they'd
want to come back again and again.
A wallow in these waters
is the ideal way to end a day
soaking up Budapest's golden age.
Sadly, with the dawning
of a new day,
it's time for me to leave
this elegant city.
Today, my journey in the footsteps
of Edwardian railway tourists
is taking me west.
Following the course of the Danube,
I'm pushing deeper into the heart of
early 20th-century Austria-Hungary.
I'm on my way to Bratislava,
which is the capital of Slovakia.
But in 1913,
it was a part of Hungary
and an historically important city
within the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
That realm covered many territories
and many nationalities.
And I'm anxious to discover more
about the power and the decline
of that empire.
I'm travelling along one of the
empire's main railway arteries.
And with almost 150 miles to cover,
I'm whiling away the journey
with historian Mark Cornwall.
The Austro-Hungarian Empire is often
described as the Habsburg Empire.
Who were these Habsburgs?
The Habsburgs were one of the most
dynamic
and powerful European families
in European history, I suppose.
Um...and they started life
as a small aristocratic family
in Switzerland,
but by the 14th century,
they were dukes of Austria
and were dukes of Austria
for the next 600 years.
By the turn of the 20th century,
the Habsburg lands covered almost
half the Continent,
taking in 11 states
of present-day Europe,
from Romania in the east
to Switzerland in the west.
The ruler of this vast territory
was Emperor Franz Josef,
whose 68-year-reign was longer even
than that of our own Queen Victoria.
The rapidly-expanding
railway network
was a vital tool for controlling
his multinational realm.
This line was opened in 1850.
It was the quickest way to get
from Vienna to Budapest
or Budapest to Vienna.
It was also the route that the
Orient Express went on.
So for tourists, rich tourists,
this was a key line.
But for the Habsburg Empire,
what was important,
I suppose for the emperor was that
he needed go Budapest regularly.
One alternative was to go
by steamer down the Danube,
but that took 12 hours.
This took about five hours.
So this was by far
the quickest route.
Within the sprawling empire,
a dozen languages were spoken,
and a multitude of ethnic groups
lived side by side.
But by the time my guidebook was
written, growing nationalist
feeling was beginning to loosen
the Habsburgs' grip.
Certain nationalities felt that
others were more privileged
than them and that caused these
tensions in the empire.
Many commentators at the time,
in 1913, were very optimistic
and said these tensions are crises
of growth, but there were
also certainly pessimistic types who
thought that the empire was doomed.
By 1913, Franz Josef was
an elderly man, and it was
anticipated his nephew Franz
Ferdinand would soon succeed him.
By then, Austria-Hungary was
feeling increasingly
threatened by the neighbouring
Kingdom of Serbia.
In 1913, Serbia doubled in size, due
to various wars in the south east,
and therefore when the heir to the
throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand
was murdered in Sarajevo, Serbia was
thought to be behind this
from the point of view of the
Habsburgs,
and there was no question about it,
the Habsburg rulers were determined
to just go in and crush Serbia.
And that was the beginning of
World War One. Exactly.
The First World War would spell the
end of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
But for readers of my 1913
railway guide
that was all in the unimaginable
future.
I'm leaving the train at what is
today Bratislava,
the capital of Slovakia.
But in my guidebook, it
appears under Hungary
and goes by the Hungarian
name of Pozsony.
Bradshaw's recommends a visit to
what he calls the ancient "Dom,"
dating from 1204.
And here at the main altar is the
fantastic history of this cathedral.
19 kings and queens
of Hungary who were crowned here,
set out here in Latin,
from Maximilian in 1503 down to
Ferdinand V in 1830.
And what they were crowned with...
Is the crown with its distinctive
bent cross
that was set upon their heads.
No wonder the Hungarians have an
extraordinary sense of national
identity and of national destiny.
From the 16th century,
the kings and queens of Hungary
were members of the House of
Habsburg.
And even after the 1860s,
when Hungary won home rule,
Franz Josef reigned in the western
half of his realm
as Emperor of Austria,
and the east as King of Hungary.
Flowing through the heart of both
territories was Europe's
second longest river,
where Edwardian tourists could swap
the rails for a leisurely cruise.
Thank you.
My Bradshaw's helpfully reminds me
that Bratislava is beautifully
situated on the Danube,
and the river seems the best way to
reach my next destination.
Sadly, the paddle steamers that my
1913 guide describes
are no longer in service,
but this modern catamaran is a
worthy substitute.
Hello. Tickets and passports,
please. Oh, passport?
When you live in the United Kingdom,
it's perhaps easy to forget
how important for communication and
transport were and are
the great waterways of Europe,
the Rhine, the Rhone and the Danube,
and, even today, a really viable way
of travelling from one capital city
to another.
It takes just 90 minutes to speed
along the Danube to my next stop.
I'm now approaching what
was in 1913 the political
and cultural centre of the powerful
Austro-Hungarian Empire.
What a wonderful way to
arrive in Vienna,
my Bradshaw says the capital of
Austria lies on the Danube canal,
"It is regarded as one
of the brightest and healthiest of
"the large continental cities, with
cheerful and courteous inhabitants."
Certainly in 1913 the Viennese
aristocracy knew how to enjoy
itself, but could have no
idea that the Habsburg empire was
enjoying its last waltz.
Arriving here in 1913, the British
tourist would have plunged
head first into an intoxicating
world of ostentatious glamour.
And the best place to capture
the flavour of imperial Vienna
was the famous Ringstrasse.
My guidebook writes,
"A fine broad thoroughfare,
"it extends in a crescent
two miles long
"round three sides of the
Inner Town."
Still today, tourists flock to
this iconic avenue
to admire the best of Viennese
architecture.
Hello, Diane. Good afternoon,
Michael.
Welcome aboard.
In 1913, this road would have
bustled
with trams and horse-drawn
carriages.
I'm taking a ride with tour
guide Diane Naar.
Why was the Ringstrasse created
in the first place?
The city was suffocating. Vienna,
a medieval city,
was surrounded by huge
fortifications.
The fortifications had served their
purpose well,
but they were now suffocating
the old city.
And the emperor himself decided to
allow the razing of the
fortifications.
This happened in 1858.
The emperor Franz Josef wanted to
make Vienna a modern and beautiful
city to rival Paris, which had been
remodelled under Napoleon III.
Franz Josef's vision for Vienna was
to replace the old city walls
with a magnificent boulevard,
lined with monumental public
buildings and grand mansions.
So, how long was the construction -
both of the roadway
and of the palaces on either side?
The Ringstrasse was officially
inaugurated
on the first of May, 1865.
But construction work continued for
at least another 40 years. Good Lord,
right up to eve of the
First World War.
Right up to 1913, in fact.
Vienna, after the industrial
revolution, was home to
a moneyed class of bankers,
lawyers and merchants, who queued up
to build grand palaces on the city's
newest and most prestigious avenue.
Give me some idea of the palaces
and the people who lived in them.
The richest were the ones who were
able to afford the largest plots.
And they
hired the most expensive architects
and the most prominent artists.
And these buildings were four storeys
high and would cover four blocks
and they were filled with marble,
and carved wood,
and it was a matter of showing off.
The tourists who came
here following my 1913 guidebook
were among the last witnesses to
imperial era Vienna.
And no pre-war visit would be
complete without sampling
the nightlife.
To rest my head for the night, and
of course to change for the evening,
I need what Bradshaw's calls,
"A modern first class hotel
"in a central position," and an
advertisement informs me
that the Hotel Imperial,
"Since 1913 renovated and fitted
with every modern comfort."
And since it looks like a palace, it
will do very nicely.
The Grand Imperial hotel,
right on the Ringstrasse,
certainly makes a striking
first impression.
Everywhere you look there's marble,
crystal and gold.
It's the perfect place to
don my best bib and tucker
before heading out into the city.
My destination is a ballroom,
which once belonged to the wealthy
Rothschild family.
Here, dance teachers Heinz Grossmann
and Peter Benek are going
explain the intricacies
of the classic Viennese waltz.
What is the Vienna waltz?
Er... The Viennese waltz is the
famous dance the world...
But...the famous music also.
But the basic is very simple.
The basic is we have six steps,
we can dance six steps
and we can dance the Viennese waltz.
It is very, very simple.
Invented in the 18th century,
the Viennese waltz was the first
dance in which couples held
each other close as they whirled
around the floor.
At first it scandalized
polite society,
but by the time my railway guide was
published, tourists were
flocking here to waltz at the city's
glamorous public balls.
Vienna still hosts hundreds of such
events every year
during the
glittering winter season,
but I'm sure that I would fail to
make the grade.
I don't know whether you know
the expression in English,
but I have two left feet.
This is no problem. Normally we have
90 per cent success.
You've just met the 10 per cent.
I don't like... I don't believe.
No.
OK, you are the gentleman?
Please, yes.
OK, OK. I'm the lady.
Yes, please.
This position.
There opening, yes, there.
That is OK.
One, two, three, four, five.
One, two...
Oh, lost it. OK.
Six simple steps they may be,
but for me they're hard.
And look on the 11 o'clock....
Yes. Good.
You are a very good student.
LAUGHTER
One, slide, close, back.
Slide, close. Yes!
You're perfect.
I don't think so, but thank you.
I think it's time to step aside
for the experts.
MUSIC: Viennese Waltz
Watching them glide across
this belle epoque ballroom
perfectly ends a day that's evoked
Vienna's golden age.
A beautiful morning,
and I'm continuing my search
for traces of the Vienna that
Edwardian railway tourists saw.
They would have been
struck by the flowing lines
and natural forms of Art Nouveau -
a new style of art
and architecture then
transforming the city.
It first found favour in Paris,
but by the time my guidebook
was published,
the railways had helped to spread
its influence across the continent.
"The gallery of modern pictures
at the Belvedere,"
says my Bradshaw's guide,
"was formerly the residence
"of Prince Eugene of Savoy."
I'm here to explore one painter
in particular,
because behind the prim
facade of the empire,
artists were
pursuing more sensual ideas.
Vienna's most famous Art Nouveau
painter, Gustav Klimt,
horrified the establishment with
his interpretation of the genre.
And one work shows why
especially well.
This is Gustav Klimt's the Kiss,
painted in 1908, and at the time
it was thought very shocking.
The man is hungry for the woman
and she has gone
limp in a sort of trance of passion.
In the years since,
a lot of people have regarded this
painting as merely pretty.
But I understand completely why this
picture appalled the public,
and why Vienna at the time was
considered a very racy place.
The Kiss reveals an edgier
and subversive spirit that inhabited
turn of the century Vienna.
And I'm bound now
for its habitual haunt.
I'm in the old city
and my Bradshaw's says,
"Within this district are the most
interesting phases of Vienna life."
Which I take to be a reference
to cafe society,
which reached its high point when my
Bradshaw's guide was published.
Vienna's coffee
houses are famous around the world,
and one of the most
evocative of the city's heyday is
the Cafe Central,
which opened its doors in 1876.
Hello, Margarete.
Hello Michael, nice to meet you.
Lovely to see you.
What a beautiful cafe.
Isn't it?
Local, Margarete Stickler,
is going to help me
to navigate coffee house etiquette.
Um, what are you having, Margarete,
what is that? This a melange.
A melange. And what is that?
A melange is a strong coffee, black
coffee, with kind of...whipped milk.
A melange please,
thank you very much, indeed.
And we never say just "coffee." No?
"A cup of coffee." No.
Either melange, or cappuccino,
or grosse schwartze.
A big black coffee.
A big black coffee.
It's an unwritten rule that a single
cup buys you the right to linger
as long as you like.
And around the turn of the 20th
century, British visitors could
have rubbed shoulders with thinkers
who came to exchange radical ideas.
Tell me about some of the well-known
people that I might have
bumped into in the coffee houses at
the beginning of the 20th Century?
All sorts of people,
but of course mainly intellectuals,
artists, writers.
And as a former politician
I would like to know,
were there any people
of my trade here?
Oh, yes, very much so, but just
before they became famous!
LAUGHTER
Who are you talking about?
Trotsky, Leo Trotsky.
Lenin.
Stalin.
All here in Vienna?
They used to meet at the Cafe
Central for playing chess!
Not so much reds under the bed
as reds in the coffee house!
Quite so.
Alongside Russian
revolutionaries, Cafe Central
regulars included Sigmund Freud, the
founding father of psychoanalysis.
Nowadays, no trip to Vienna is
complete without visiting
a cafe, for a drink and of course
a slice of something sweet.
There is such a
variety of cakes here.
With my Bradshaw's in one hand
it feels like a metaphor for the
Austro-Hungarian empire in 1913.
You've got Albanians and Slovenes
and Slovaks and Bosnians
Hungarians and Bohemians, all mixed
together in one Empire...
But very crumbly.
Vienna was the cultural, military
and political heart of the Empire.
But there was another side to
early 20th century Austria.
I'm now doing as the Viennese elite
did in the summer months, and taking
the Western mainline, completed
in 1860, out to the mountains.
Having used my 1913 Bradshaw's to
explore the Empire's two
biggest cities, I'm now heading
over 180 miles west to Salzburg,
the birthplace of Mozart.
From there, I'll trace my
guidebook's recommended route
through the stunning Salzkammergut
mountains,
finishing up at Bad Ischl, home to
the Emperor's summer retreat.
This Austrian express is whisking me
across the country
at 120 miles per hour.
Edwardian tourists would have
travelled at a more leisurely pace,
but one custom that hasn't changed
is the civilised tradition
of the dining car.
Guten Abend. Guten abend!
Bitte schon, er...eine
Wienerschnitzel vom schwein, bitte.
Ja. Und, um, ein Grune Veltsiner
wein bitte. Grune Veltliner.
Ja, kleine, kleine.
Sonst noch etwas?
Do you have any other wishes?
Oh, you speak English!
No other wishes, thank you very
much. You are welcome! Thank you.
A traditional Viennese dish is
a perfect way to put
the Austrian capital behind me,
and set myself up for the stunning
scenery awaiting me
on the next leg of my trip.
Ah, that looks very good!
Schon, schon danke.
Enjoy it, I hope it tastes good.
Thank you.
As the sun sets, the train arrives
in Salzburg
which my Bradshaw's tells me is
"1,350 feet above sea
"on both banks of the river Zalzac,
below some lofty hills,"
and is "regarded as one of
the most beautifully situated
places of Europe."
What a tantalising invitation to
explore this city.
I'm leaving the train here
and going off in search of my bed.
My exploration of stunning Salzburg
will have to wait till the morning.
MUSIC: "Symphony No. 40" by Mozart
First thing in sunny Salzburg
and the streets are already
buzzing with tourists.
And none of them can have missed
this city's biggest attraction.
Some places are best known
for being the birthplace
of a famous person, like Stratford
Upon Avon with William Shakespeare,
and Salzburg is
celebrated for its most famous son,
one of the most important
composers in the history of music.
Salzburg's homegrown musical genius
is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
And by 1913, railway tourists were
flocking here to honour his memory.
My guidebook directs fans to
"Getreidegasse, where, at number
seven, Mozart was born'.
Director of the museum, Gabriele
Ramsauer is showing me round.
Well, this is a lovely, big room,
and here I think I see Mozart
and these are the
portraits of the family.
Yes. This was the living
room of the Mozart family.
They were living here,
they were playing music,
they were meeting friends.
And I think this room has a really
great and wonderful atmosphere.
It is indeed very atmospheric.
MUSIC: "Rondo Alla Turca" by Mozart
This building is where, aged five,
Mozart began his composing career.
And it's also the birthplace of the
thriving Mozart heritage industry,
thanks to a pair of British fans.
It started in 1829, there a British
couple came here to see
the location of Mozart and it was
the couple Vincent and Mary Novello.
The travel diaries of Vincent and
Mary Novello in the year 1829.
"Vin and I made a pilgrimage to the
house where the divine Mozart
"first drew breath. I cannot
describe my feelings.
"We are both in a complete trance."
That's beautiful!
The Novellos' published diaries
helped inspire
the official Mozart tourist trail.
And in the late 19th century,
special railway tours began bringing
Britons to see this house
and to attend many music festivals
held in the city.
"Cook's personally conducted tour."
Belgium, The Rhine, Nuremburg,
Salzburg and the Grand Mozart
Festival.
Departing apparently from Holborn
Station in London,
crossing the continent and spending
about four days here
at the Salzburg Mozart Festival.
That's fantastic.
Thomas Cook had organised his first
railway excursions in the 1840s,
and soon took advantage of
the rapidly expanding international
network
to launch continental tours. These
"Mozart trains"
continued to be popular into
the 20th century, and by 1913,
rail travellers had a new way to
experience their favourite composer.
Even on a glorious afternoon like
this, I feel I should find time
to hear some Mozart opera,
and I'm on my way
to a little gem of a theatre.
I've come to this bijou playhouse
in the heart of Salzburg,
to see a performance of The Magic
Flute with a difference.
OPERA SINGING IN GERMAN
Today, the Marionette Theatre
is one of Salzburg's best-loved
tourist attractions,
and it all began in the era
of my 1913 railway guide.
I'm going behind the scenes with
puppeteer Philippe Brunner.
How long has opera been performed
with these marionettes?
Since 1913 the theatre started with
a very small opera
by Mozart Bastien und Bastienne
and since then has done many
of Mozart's operas and also other
composers.
With ever more tourists visiting
Salzburg by rail,
the puppet theatre found
a ready-made audience.
And while these days the puppeteers
perform to recorded music,
Edwardian readers of my guidebook
would have watched the marionettes
miming to live singers.
Do any of the puppets from 1913
survive?
Yes, they do. We have a lot of them
in a museum but we have some here
I can show you.
This is father Mozart. He also dates
from 1913.
Hello, nice to meet you.
How do you do? Very well.
MICHAEL LAUGHS
He's beautiful. Yes, and you see,
he is a much smaller scale
than the puppets we use today.
These must be very splendid people
to work with.
Oh, absolutely. They don't fuss
around. No prima donnas!
No, not at all.
It takes up to eight years to learn
how to work these remarkable
marionettes, but Philippe's going to
see what he can teach me
in ten minutes.
You move from left to right
and the puppet is walking.
And with your other hand you use the
front and then you move the head
from left to right. And then you
push here
and then he opens his mouth. Raargh!
Great. You're doing very well.
My lion is taking a walk through
the forest...when he meets a...
Ooh! Very tall person. Raargh!
Raargh!
Raargh! I'm not afraid of you.
You may have a long neck,
I have a very long tail.
Raargh!
Ah! I scared him off.
Well, I've pulled some political
strings in my time
but I think I'd better leave
the puppets to the pros.
It's time for me to swap historic
Salzburg for the pure air
of the Austrian mountains.
Now my Bradshaw's urges me
to head for the country to
the Saltkammergut,
"A beautiful district of lake
and mountain east of Salzburg,
"easily accessible
by rail and steamer.
"Though a day may suffice for
a hasty visit,
"the attractions of two or three
favoured spots will hardly
"be appreciated unless a stay of
a few days be made at each."
Oh, for the leisure of
a 1913 traveller.
In the 1900s, only the wealthy
middle and upper classes
could afford to explore this
remarkable region,
but it's not hard to see why,
once here, they wanted to linger.
With limestone mountains, glacial
lakes and unspoilt villages,
it's a picture postcard landscape of
breath-taking beauty.
I'm picking up my next form of
transport in pretty St Gilgen,
to the east of Salzburg.
My Bradshaw's says that the steamer
may be taken in preference
to the train, which is fortunate
because some of the railway lines
that existed at the time of
my guide have been axed.
So I will proceed by water.
My authentic paddle steamer's route
hasn't changed since 1913.
Back then, this lovely scenery was
already a firm favourite
with tourists. But in the 1960s,
the region was shot to
international fame
as the setting for one of the most
successful movies of all time...
The Sound Of Music.
# BOTH: My heart will be blessed
with the sound of music
# And I'll sing once more. #
APPLAUSE
Wolfgang, do you find that
the tourists who arrive,
they're coming in large numbers?
Yes. They join in, the sing and they
dance and they clap their hands.
There are sometimes choruses
of 50 people
and everybody is singing with us
and that is a very high feeling.
Are they word perfect?
Yes, they know it by heart.
# BOTH: Doe, a deer, a female deer
# Ray, a drop of golden sun...
MICHAEL JOINS IN:
# Me, a name I call myself
# Fa, a long, long way to run
# Sew, a needle pulling thread
# La, a note to follow so
# Tea, a drink with jam and bread
# That will bring us back to doe
# Doe, ray, me, fa, so, la, tea, doe
# So, doe... #
Luckily for my fellow tourists,
there's no more time for singing.
My paddle steamer has carried me
across the Wolfgansee Lake
to St Wolfgang Station.
From here, Edwardian travellers
could experience the railway ride
of a lifetime.
HE SPEAKS IN GERMAN
My Bradshaw's is very clear about
the next stage of my journey.
"From St Wolfgang a climbing rail
ascends the Schafberg, 5,840 feet.
"The panorama from the top
is very extensive."
And fortunately the climbing rail
is still here.
I'm taking a trip on this beautiful
tourist line with its director,
Gunther Mackinger.
How very kind of you. Thank you very
much. Thank you. Take a seat.
WHISTLE BLARES
TRAIN WHISTLES
Built in 1893, it's one of Austria's
most vertiginous stretches of track.
This is a lovely railway. What
sort of gradient does it reach?
This is the steepest railway
with 26%.
That's what we would call one in
four, that's very steep indeed.
The line was built so that tourists
could admire the stunning views.
To cope with the gradient,
cogs were used for traction
and a rather unusual engine
was designed.
Your locomotive is very distinctive
because it's kind of
built at an angle.
Because the railway is so steep
and the water in the boiler
must always fill
the boiler complete,
otherwise there would be the danger
of a boiler explosion.
It's absolutely obvious when you say
it, but it had never occurred to me.
Although the railway does still run
original locomotives
from the 1890s, this engine is
a modern copy.
And powered by steam climbing the
Shafberg is an unforgettable ascent.
My Bradshaw's promised me a panorama
but I never expected anything as
grand and as magnificent as this.
Danke. Auf wiedersehen.
Fortunately for me,
as I leave the train,
it's not the last
I'll see of the vista.
Because amazingly,
the cog train has brought me
to my bed for the night.
After one of the most remarkable
train journeys in the world,
I am now going to be staying
in an extraordinary place...
on top of a mountain.
There's been a hotel perched atop
the Shafberg ever since 1862.
It must surely be one of the most
spectacular places in Europe
to break a railway journey.
Having woken at my hotel in the
clouds, it's time for me to descend
the mountain and continue my
exploration of the Salzkammergut.
From medieval times, this region
fuelled the wealth and power
of the Habsburg dynasty,
who had a monopoly
on the valuable salt deposits hidden
in the mountains.
But by the early 20th century,
the family was coming here by rail
on holiday.
Their favourite bolt hole
was Bad Ischl,
described in my 1913 guide as
"a very fashionable resort."
To get there, my Bradshaw's outlines
"a comparatively tame train ride
"of half an hour" on the
Salzkammergut Local Railway.
But that service was closed in 1957,
so I'm taking a very scenic route
to my final destination.
At Bad Ischl, my Bradshaw's tells me
that the park of Imperial Villa
may be visited during absences
of the family.
I'm headed for the place where,
with a few strokes of the pen,
a Habsburg Emperor consigned
his dynasty to history.
Just a year after my guidebook was
published, the spa town of Bad Ischl
played a pivotal role in the events
which led to the First World War.
But the story began half a century
earlier, when this grand villa was
given to the Emperor Franz Josef by
his mother, as a wedding present.
Nice to see you.
I'm taking a tour with historian
Lothar Hobelt.
Now, Franz Josef was not necessarily
a very happy man
during his life, was he happy here?
I think this is where, the part of
the world he found easiest to relax.
So he came here almost every summer.
I mean, Franz Joseph was not
a great man to relax, anyway.
A great pastime he enjoyed most
was hunting.
One's of course got remember that
that was the pastime for aristocrats
or the elite in general,
just like golfing today.
And it was also a place where he
could meet people informally,
you know? I mean, everything else
is at a court like Franz Josef's
and he's a stickler for detail.
Everything else is arranged
according to ceremonial,
but with hunting
it gets a little more relaxed.
But soon after my guidebook
was written,
events caught up with the Emperor
even in his private paradise.
By the summer of 1914, simmering
tensions with the neighbouring
Kingdom of Serbia had reached
boiling point.
In June of that year, Franz Josef's
nephew and heir,
Franz Ferdinand, was visiting
the Empire's Balkan territories
when a Serbian nationalist
took drastic action.
And he receives news here, does he,
of the assassination of the heir
Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo?
Yes. And I think he knew even then
that this was going to mean war.
By 1914, Franz Josef was
increasingly worried
about Serbia's aggressive
nationalist ambitions,
and the assassination of the heir
apparent was the final straw.
On 28th July, here in Bad Ischl,
the Emperor declared war
on his troublesome neighbour.
Once the Emperor had signed the
declaration of war at Bad Ischl,
does he go back to Vienna?
Yes, he does, and he leaves by train,
of course,
and it seems he never came back to
this house, because during wartime
it simply wasn't thought appropriate
to take summer holidays.
Thanks to complex alliances,
other powers were soon
drawn into the conflict.
Germany sided with Austria-Hungary,
while Russia, allied to France,
backed Serbia.
The Emperor's show of strength
quickly snowballed
into a global war.
Franz Josef died in 1916.
And when German and Austro-Hungarian
forces were defeated
two years later,
his successor abdicated
as the empire crumbled around him.
But the Habsburg family
didn't die out.
Amazingly, this villa is still
family home to Markus Habsburg.
Wilkommen. How very nice to see you.
Michael Portillo. Come here.
So, I am addressing the great
grandson of the Emperor Franz Josef.
Ja. What a great pleasure.
Having made his fateful decision,
Franz Josef wrote to his peoples,
making the case for war.
And the manifesto that he produced
was signed in this very room.
Yes, these are the four sheets
of paper typewritten,
and it bears a signature
of Franz Josef
and it was signed on 28 July 1914.
It was finally printed
in all the newspapers
and in all the languages
of the monarchy.
There were 13 languages
in his empire.
The most important decision
of Franz Josef's life?
It was heavy decision for him
personally,
but an important decision in
European history, unfortunately.
A very historic document and
a very historic piece furniture.
On this journey, I've discovered
the rich complexity of pre-war
Austria-Hungary.
An patchwork of nationalities, it
was held together by one family
and its historic power.
But by the time my guidebook
was published,
the seeds of its demise had already
been sown.
When Franz Josef left here by train
in 1914, he had unknowingly
sealed the fate of the Habsburg
Empire.
The First World War destroyed it
and Austria, Hungary
and the other countries
went their separate ways.
My Bradshaw's has guided me through
the Empire's twilight years
of extravagance and sensuality.
Compared with the horrors
that were to befall those countries
in the rest of the 20th Century,
it was an age of innocence.
Next time, I'll take to the tracks
in the former German Empire,
Europe's industrial powerhouse...
I can actually see into
everybody's window,
I can see into everybody's house.
..in its most scenic spots.
When on the Rhine,
eat as Rhinelanders do.
I'll learn what attracted
Edwardian tourists...
Hello, my beauties!
Nice to meet you!
..and discover how
its close ties with Britain
were soon to be shattered.
So the two countries
that went to war
were ruled over by first cousins?
Yes, first cousins.
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd
adventure
I'm embarking on a new railway
adventure
that will take me across the heart
of Europe.
I'll be using this,
my Bradshaw's Continental Railway
Guide, dated 1913,
which opened up an exotic world
of foreign travel
for the British tourist.
It told travellers where to go,
what to see
and how to navigate the thousands
of miles of tracks
criss-crossing the Continent.
Now, a century later,
I'm using my copy
to reveal an era of great optimism
and energy
where technology, industry, science
and the arts were flourishing.
I want to rediscover
that lost Europe
that in 1913, couldn't know
that its way of life
would shortly be swept aside
by the advent of war.
My 1913 Bradshaw's in hand,
I'm making a series of journeys
across Europe,
seeking out a lost pre-war world.
Today, I'm exploring the once-great
empire of Austria-Hungary,
domain of the pre-eminent
Habsburg monarchs.
The Habsburgs were one of the most
dynamic
and powerful European families.
In the empire's elegant cities...
We get this magnificent view
of the Chain Bridge.
..I'll immerse myself
in pre-war decadence.
What a beautiful cafe! Isn't it!
And experience
Edwardian tourist attractions.
Raar!
Before heading for the hills.
I never expected anything
as grand and as magnificent as this.
And the emperor's summer home,
from where, in 1914,
Europe departed along the track
to disaster.
I think he knew even then
that this was going to mean war.
My international itinerary begins
in the Hungarian capital Budapest,
then takes me west to Bratislava
in Slovakia.
Travelling along the Danube,
I'll cross into Austria,
where I'll taste the opulent glamour
of Imperial-era Vienna
before continuing on to Salzburg.
Finally, I'll explore
the stunning Salzkammergut,
finishing at the spot
where a fateful decision
sparked a global war
and the end of this extensive
European empire.
I'm in Hungary, which, in 1913
formed one half of a vast empire
alongside Austria.
My Bradshaw's Guide
hints that the Hungarian capital
had historically been
two distinct cities.
"Budapest is situated on both
banks of the River Danube.
"The part on the left bank of
the river is by far the larger,
"though down to the 15th century,
it was inferior in size
"and importance
to the part on the right bank."
It was the unification of those
two parts of the city in the 1870s
that made Budapest
the second capital of the empire
and one of Europe's great cities
in terms of elegance and power.
The railways also played their part
in Budapest's fin-de-siecle boom.
By 1900, Hungary had almost
6,000 kilometres of tracks
fanning out from the capital.
And money was poured into
the grand city centre termini.
This is Budapest's Nyugati station,
one of three major stations
in the city,
built just after Budapest
was unified.
And what a statement of confidence
it is.
Built by the French engineering firm
Eiffel, as in the Eiffel Tower.
I find it absolutely gorgeous,
but it is, these days,
rather faded grandeur.
Opened in 1877, this vast,
elegant railway palace
told visitors they'd arrived
in a city of consequence.
So it's hard to believe
that Budapest as we know it
was then just four years old.
To trace the story of its birth,
I'm following my 1913 guidebook
to the west, or Buda side
of the Danube,
where I'm meeting historian
Laszlo Muntean.
Lazlo.
Hello. Hello, Michael.
Very good to see you.
And from here, you get
such a strong impression
that this was once
two distinct cities.
Exactly.
We are in the Buda side right now
and we are overlooking the Pest side,
which had been completely separated
from the Buda side
by the River Danube.
For centuries, the only way
from the west bank,
home to the settlements of Buda
and Obuda,
to Pest was by ferry.
In the mid 19th century, the best
of British engineering changed that.
It was in 1849 that the two sides
were connected
by a permanent suspension bridge,
the Chain Bridge.
That would be the one mentioned
in my Bradshaw's Guide,
"One of the longest in Europe,"
it says,
"and the work of British engineers
Tierney and Clark." Exactly.
The Chain Bridge is
amongst Budapest's iconic landmarks.
And Lazlo's showing me
one of the best ways to admire it.
Lazlo, you're absolutely right.
As soon as the funicular set off,
we get this magnificent view of
the Chain Bridge. Exactly.
The story of this remarkable bridge
began in Industrial Revolution
Britain,
then impressing the world with
its pioneering constructions
in iron and steel.
Why did the Hungarians turn to
British engineers for this bridge?
Well, Hungarian constructors
back then,
they didn't have
the engineering expertise
to construct a bridge like this.
Just look at the metalwork and the
cables and all the suspension rods.
It was the great Hungarian statesman
Istvan Szechenyi
who decided to import
British technological know-how.
He paid several visits to England.
First in 1815 and then in 1832.
And he was particularly impressed
by William Tierney Clark's
suspension bridges
over the River Thames.
Two bridges in particular.
Hammersmith Bridge and Marlow Bridge.
Szechenyi challenged Tierney Clark
to apply his skill to spanning
the majestic Danube.
The result was a 202-metre-long
suspension bridge,
then amongst the largest
in the world.
This was the first bridge that
brought the two sides together.
It had, of course,
a functional relevance.
It made transportation
and commerce much easier,
but also, it had symbolic importance.
The Chain Bridge,
the construction of the Chain Bridge
was basically the first step
towards the unification
of the cities
on the two sides of the river.
While William Tierney Clark
designed this engineering triumph,
Scottish engineer Adam Clark was
called in to supervise construction.
And his role
in the bridge's history
won him a permanent place
in Hungarian hearts.
Hungary was part of
the Habsburg Empire
and there was a revolution
against the Habsburgs in 1848.
Now, the construction of the bridge
came to an end in 1849,
which was the year when
the revolution was defeated.
During the revolution,
the Austrians, not surprisingly,
they wanted to blow up the bridge,
which was almost ready.
Adam Clark flooded the chain chambers
and prevented the bridge
from being blown up.
All of a sudden, he became
a Hungarian national hero,
although he was a Scotsman.
A canny Scot and a Hungarian hero.
Exactly.
The bridge helped ignite
an economic boom
that ushered in a golden age
in Budapest's history.
In 1873, Buda, Obuda and Pest
were formally united
and Budapest became
the Hungarian capital.
Around the same time, Hungary
was granted
a degree of autonomy
within the empire,
winning the right to govern
its own internal affairs.
In 1904, a new home for the national
parliament was completed,
and was still dazzling
readers of my guide in 1913.
"The Parliament House,"
says my Bradshaw's,
"is an immense Gothic pile
by the architect Steindl,
"with a splendid facade to the
river."
Steindl was greatly influenced
by the parliament in London.
And whereas ours
looks more like a palace,
his came out
looking more like a cathedral.
Inside, it's much more ornate
and highly decorated than ours.
I was once here in 1989, the year
that communism was crumbling,
and I heard a brave young politician
making a speech here,
and I thought to myself,
if ever there's a parliament that
deserves a democracy, this is it.
I'm now leaving the west bank
of the Danube
and crossing the river to Pest.
At the time of my 1913 guidebook,
this part of town
was the beating heart
of commercial Budapest.
And places like this vast
indoor market, opened in 1897,
would have heaved with customers.
If the city owes
some of its engineering
and buildings to the west
you have to remember
that nonetheless, Budapest
was occupied by the Ottoman Turks
for nearly 150 years.
And therefore, as Bradshaw's says,
has a semi-Oriental influence,
to which I would add only that
that is nowhere to be seen more
than in the food, which is
typified by cumin and paprika
and sweet pastries and strudels,
all to be found in this marvellous
market,
which seems to owe its architectural
influence to a railway station.
These days,
Budapest's Great Market Hall
is a magnet for fans
of traditional cuisine.
And there's one local speciality
I have to try.
This is langos?
Yes, this is the langos. What is it?
It's a traditional Hungarian bread.
It's deep fried.
We have sweet and salty, too.
This deep-fried snack
is eaten all over Hungary,
and apparently grew up as a way of
satisfying workers
during the bitterly cold winter.
The traditional savoury option
is sour cream and cheese,
but these days, you can have it
topped with whatever you fancy.
Thank you very much. Enjoy it.
It's lovely and warm,
it's just come out of the fat.
He must have put on to it
a dozen different ingredients.
I really don't know where to begin.
It's absolutely piled high.
How do you like this?
Well, I'm just beginning it at the
moment. Do you eat langos?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Many times.
This is to satisfy many tastes
from many countries of the world.
It's got a mixture of everything.
As we say in English,
everything except the kitchen sink.
Hello. Hello.
Are you enjoying your langos? Yes.
Is it first time you've had it? Yes.
Would you have it again?
Yes. If I will, next time
in Budapest, perhaps.
And you had one, too? Yes.
Were you pleased or disappointed?
I liked it. It was good.
I'm not sure that it's exactly
slimming. What do you think?
No, it's definitely not.
The langos ought really to come
with a manual on how to eat it
because it's very, very tricky.
Wow! Good, though.
Energised by my lunch, I'm seeking
out more of belle epoque Budapest.
One ticket, please.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
Edwardian railway tourists
could explore the city
on its state-of-the-art
transport system.
I was rather surprised by this entry
in my Bradshaw's Guide.
"Underground electric railway
between Gellert Ter,
which is near the river
"and Varosliget,
which is the city park."
In fact, the railway
wasn't even new in 1913.
The first line had been built
in 1896,
making Budapest the second
European city after London
to have an underground railway.
The ambitious project was approved
seven years
after London's first underground
line opened in 1863.
And 2,000 workers were drafted in
to build the tunnels.
I get the impression
that the 70 years
before my Bradshaw's Guide
was published
was an extraordinary period
for Budapest.
The city acquired a new bridge,
a new name.
It became a capital,
built new railway stations,
a new parliament
and a new underground railway.
After a long day marvelling at
this thoroughly modern metropolis,
Edwardian tourists would have craved
a little rest and relaxation.
And this magnificent complex
of baroque buildings
was the perfect place to find it.
The famous Szechenyi baths,
one of Budapest's many mineral spas,
opened in the same year
my guidebook was published.
Bradshaw's tells me Budapest
has bathing establishments
supplied by warm sulphur springs.
If you weren't sufficiently
attracted by the boulevards,
by the cafes, by the goulash,
by the ballrooms or by the opera,
then you might come here
to take the cure,
or to allow your body to float
in the water.
By the late 19th century,
a fashion for water cures
had swept the Continent.
And soon, Budapest's bathing culture
entered its heyday.
City local Naomi Csondor
is an aficionado of the city's
hot-water springs.
Hello, Naomi. Hello.
Great to see you. Great to see you.
What were these waters
supposed to do to you?
This is very good for osteoporosis
and for rheumatism.
And it's excellent as a natural
multivitamin, as well.
What do the waters contain?
First of all, the sulphur,
that we can smell, as well.
And if you taste it,
you don't like it
because it's like a bad eggs taste.
We have some magnesium,
some calcium, ferrum.
For centuries,
the area's mineral springs
were found only on the Buda side
of the river.
But in the late 1800s, engineers
drilled down beneath Pest city park.
By 1913, the first permanent bath
had opened its doors here,
allowing the growing
Pest bourgeoisie
access to the hot, healing waters.
The temperature we're in
is quite like a bath.
It's a very comfortable warm water.
Is that the natural temperature
that it comes from the ground?
It's hard to believe, but the
temperature is 79 degrees centigrade,
how they find it.
This is still today.
But they cool it down.
And so we can bath in it
and swim in it and enjoy it.
79 degrees. That's very hot.
Is that one of the hottest natural
waters? In Budapest, yes.
But not in the country.
In the 1920s,
the medical spa expanded
to include a mixed bathing area.
Today, people hoping to improve
their health
mingle with tourists
and pleasure seekers
in this extraordinary temple
to Budapest's healing springs.
What are you enjoying about the
baths? It's nice and relaxing.
How long have you been in the water?
Too long, probably.
LAUGHTER
You should wallow for about three
hours minimum. No! Yes.
If you're talking about
taking the water,
it means spending time just relaxing,
taking it in.
So, would you do it again?
ALL: Definitely!
I'm going to come back
tomorrow. Back tomorrow? Yeah.
What about all the sights
of Budapest?
What about the Parliament Building?
No. Yeah.
THEY LAUGH
But the baths is the top thing
for you? ALL: Definitely!
I certainly understand why they'd
want to come back again and again.
A wallow in these waters
is the ideal way to end a day
soaking up Budapest's golden age.
Sadly, with the dawning
of a new day,
it's time for me to leave
this elegant city.
Today, my journey in the footsteps
of Edwardian railway tourists
is taking me west.
Following the course of the Danube,
I'm pushing deeper into the heart of
early 20th-century Austria-Hungary.
I'm on my way to Bratislava,
which is the capital of Slovakia.
But in 1913,
it was a part of Hungary
and an historically important city
within the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
That realm covered many territories
and many nationalities.
And I'm anxious to discover more
about the power and the decline
of that empire.
I'm travelling along one of the
empire's main railway arteries.
And with almost 150 miles to cover,
I'm whiling away the journey
with historian Mark Cornwall.
The Austro-Hungarian Empire is often
described as the Habsburg Empire.
Who were these Habsburgs?
The Habsburgs were one of the most
dynamic
and powerful European families
in European history, I suppose.
Um...and they started life
as a small aristocratic family
in Switzerland,
but by the 14th century,
they were dukes of Austria
and were dukes of Austria
for the next 600 years.
By the turn of the 20th century,
the Habsburg lands covered almost
half the Continent,
taking in 11 states
of present-day Europe,
from Romania in the east
to Switzerland in the west.
The ruler of this vast territory
was Emperor Franz Josef,
whose 68-year-reign was longer even
than that of our own Queen Victoria.
The rapidly-expanding
railway network
was a vital tool for controlling
his multinational realm.
This line was opened in 1850.
It was the quickest way to get
from Vienna to Budapest
or Budapest to Vienna.
It was also the route that the
Orient Express went on.
So for tourists, rich tourists,
this was a key line.
But for the Habsburg Empire,
what was important,
I suppose for the emperor was that
he needed go Budapest regularly.
One alternative was to go
by steamer down the Danube,
but that took 12 hours.
This took about five hours.
So this was by far
the quickest route.
Within the sprawling empire,
a dozen languages were spoken,
and a multitude of ethnic groups
lived side by side.
But by the time my guidebook was
written, growing nationalist
feeling was beginning to loosen
the Habsburgs' grip.
Certain nationalities felt that
others were more privileged
than them and that caused these
tensions in the empire.
Many commentators at the time,
in 1913, were very optimistic
and said these tensions are crises
of growth, but there were
also certainly pessimistic types who
thought that the empire was doomed.
By 1913, Franz Josef was
an elderly man, and it was
anticipated his nephew Franz
Ferdinand would soon succeed him.
By then, Austria-Hungary was
feeling increasingly
threatened by the neighbouring
Kingdom of Serbia.
In 1913, Serbia doubled in size, due
to various wars in the south east,
and therefore when the heir to the
throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand
was murdered in Sarajevo, Serbia was
thought to be behind this
from the point of view of the
Habsburgs,
and there was no question about it,
the Habsburg rulers were determined
to just go in and crush Serbia.
And that was the beginning of
World War One. Exactly.
The First World War would spell the
end of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
But for readers of my 1913
railway guide
that was all in the unimaginable
future.
I'm leaving the train at what is
today Bratislava,
the capital of Slovakia.
But in my guidebook, it
appears under Hungary
and goes by the Hungarian
name of Pozsony.
Bradshaw's recommends a visit to
what he calls the ancient "Dom,"
dating from 1204.
And here at the main altar is the
fantastic history of this cathedral.
19 kings and queens
of Hungary who were crowned here,
set out here in Latin,
from Maximilian in 1503 down to
Ferdinand V in 1830.
And what they were crowned with...
Is the crown with its distinctive
bent cross
that was set upon their heads.
No wonder the Hungarians have an
extraordinary sense of national
identity and of national destiny.
From the 16th century,
the kings and queens of Hungary
were members of the House of
Habsburg.
And even after the 1860s,
when Hungary won home rule,
Franz Josef reigned in the western
half of his realm
as Emperor of Austria,
and the east as King of Hungary.
Flowing through the heart of both
territories was Europe's
second longest river,
where Edwardian tourists could swap
the rails for a leisurely cruise.
Thank you.
My Bradshaw's helpfully reminds me
that Bratislava is beautifully
situated on the Danube,
and the river seems the best way to
reach my next destination.
Sadly, the paddle steamers that my
1913 guide describes
are no longer in service,
but this modern catamaran is a
worthy substitute.
Hello. Tickets and passports,
please. Oh, passport?
When you live in the United Kingdom,
it's perhaps easy to forget
how important for communication and
transport were and are
the great waterways of Europe,
the Rhine, the Rhone and the Danube,
and, even today, a really viable way
of travelling from one capital city
to another.
It takes just 90 minutes to speed
along the Danube to my next stop.
I'm now approaching what
was in 1913 the political
and cultural centre of the powerful
Austro-Hungarian Empire.
What a wonderful way to
arrive in Vienna,
my Bradshaw says the capital of
Austria lies on the Danube canal,
"It is regarded as one
of the brightest and healthiest of
"the large continental cities, with
cheerful and courteous inhabitants."
Certainly in 1913 the Viennese
aristocracy knew how to enjoy
itself, but could have no
idea that the Habsburg empire was
enjoying its last waltz.
Arriving here in 1913, the British
tourist would have plunged
head first into an intoxicating
world of ostentatious glamour.
And the best place to capture
the flavour of imperial Vienna
was the famous Ringstrasse.
My guidebook writes,
"A fine broad thoroughfare,
"it extends in a crescent
two miles long
"round three sides of the
Inner Town."
Still today, tourists flock to
this iconic avenue
to admire the best of Viennese
architecture.
Hello, Diane. Good afternoon,
Michael.
Welcome aboard.
In 1913, this road would have
bustled
with trams and horse-drawn
carriages.
I'm taking a ride with tour
guide Diane Naar.
Why was the Ringstrasse created
in the first place?
The city was suffocating. Vienna,
a medieval city,
was surrounded by huge
fortifications.
The fortifications had served their
purpose well,
but they were now suffocating
the old city.
And the emperor himself decided to
allow the razing of the
fortifications.
This happened in 1858.
The emperor Franz Josef wanted to
make Vienna a modern and beautiful
city to rival Paris, which had been
remodelled under Napoleon III.
Franz Josef's vision for Vienna was
to replace the old city walls
with a magnificent boulevard,
lined with monumental public
buildings and grand mansions.
So, how long was the construction -
both of the roadway
and of the palaces on either side?
The Ringstrasse was officially
inaugurated
on the first of May, 1865.
But construction work continued for
at least another 40 years. Good Lord,
right up to eve of the
First World War.
Right up to 1913, in fact.
Vienna, after the industrial
revolution, was home to
a moneyed class of bankers,
lawyers and merchants, who queued up
to build grand palaces on the city's
newest and most prestigious avenue.
Give me some idea of the palaces
and the people who lived in them.
The richest were the ones who were
able to afford the largest plots.
And they
hired the most expensive architects
and the most prominent artists.
And these buildings were four storeys
high and would cover four blocks
and they were filled with marble,
and carved wood,
and it was a matter of showing off.
The tourists who came
here following my 1913 guidebook
were among the last witnesses to
imperial era Vienna.
And no pre-war visit would be
complete without sampling
the nightlife.
To rest my head for the night, and
of course to change for the evening,
I need what Bradshaw's calls,
"A modern first class hotel
"in a central position," and an
advertisement informs me
that the Hotel Imperial,
"Since 1913 renovated and fitted
with every modern comfort."
And since it looks like a palace, it
will do very nicely.
The Grand Imperial hotel,
right on the Ringstrasse,
certainly makes a striking
first impression.
Everywhere you look there's marble,
crystal and gold.
It's the perfect place to
don my best bib and tucker
before heading out into the city.
My destination is a ballroom,
which once belonged to the wealthy
Rothschild family.
Here, dance teachers Heinz Grossmann
and Peter Benek are going
explain the intricacies
of the classic Viennese waltz.
What is the Vienna waltz?
Er... The Viennese waltz is the
famous dance the world...
But...the famous music also.
But the basic is very simple.
The basic is we have six steps,
we can dance six steps
and we can dance the Viennese waltz.
It is very, very simple.
Invented in the 18th century,
the Viennese waltz was the first
dance in which couples held
each other close as they whirled
around the floor.
At first it scandalized
polite society,
but by the time my railway guide was
published, tourists were
flocking here to waltz at the city's
glamorous public balls.
Vienna still hosts hundreds of such
events every year
during the
glittering winter season,
but I'm sure that I would fail to
make the grade.
I don't know whether you know
the expression in English,
but I have two left feet.
This is no problem. Normally we have
90 per cent success.
You've just met the 10 per cent.
I don't like... I don't believe.
No.
OK, you are the gentleman?
Please, yes.
OK, OK. I'm the lady.
Yes, please.
This position.
There opening, yes, there.
That is OK.
One, two, three, four, five.
One, two...
Oh, lost it. OK.
Six simple steps they may be,
but for me they're hard.
And look on the 11 o'clock....
Yes. Good.
You are a very good student.
LAUGHTER
One, slide, close, back.
Slide, close. Yes!
You're perfect.
I don't think so, but thank you.
I think it's time to step aside
for the experts.
MUSIC: Viennese Waltz
Watching them glide across
this belle epoque ballroom
perfectly ends a day that's evoked
Vienna's golden age.
A beautiful morning,
and I'm continuing my search
for traces of the Vienna that
Edwardian railway tourists saw.
They would have been
struck by the flowing lines
and natural forms of Art Nouveau -
a new style of art
and architecture then
transforming the city.
It first found favour in Paris,
but by the time my guidebook
was published,
the railways had helped to spread
its influence across the continent.
"The gallery of modern pictures
at the Belvedere,"
says my Bradshaw's guide,
"was formerly the residence
"of Prince Eugene of Savoy."
I'm here to explore one painter
in particular,
because behind the prim
facade of the empire,
artists were
pursuing more sensual ideas.
Vienna's most famous Art Nouveau
painter, Gustav Klimt,
horrified the establishment with
his interpretation of the genre.
And one work shows why
especially well.
This is Gustav Klimt's the Kiss,
painted in 1908, and at the time
it was thought very shocking.
The man is hungry for the woman
and she has gone
limp in a sort of trance of passion.
In the years since,
a lot of people have regarded this
painting as merely pretty.
But I understand completely why this
picture appalled the public,
and why Vienna at the time was
considered a very racy place.
The Kiss reveals an edgier
and subversive spirit that inhabited
turn of the century Vienna.
And I'm bound now
for its habitual haunt.
I'm in the old city
and my Bradshaw's says,
"Within this district are the most
interesting phases of Vienna life."
Which I take to be a reference
to cafe society,
which reached its high point when my
Bradshaw's guide was published.
Vienna's coffee
houses are famous around the world,
and one of the most
evocative of the city's heyday is
the Cafe Central,
which opened its doors in 1876.
Hello, Margarete.
Hello Michael, nice to meet you.
Lovely to see you.
What a beautiful cafe.
Isn't it?
Local, Margarete Stickler,
is going to help me
to navigate coffee house etiquette.
Um, what are you having, Margarete,
what is that? This a melange.
A melange. And what is that?
A melange is a strong coffee, black
coffee, with kind of...whipped milk.
A melange please,
thank you very much, indeed.
And we never say just "coffee." No?
"A cup of coffee." No.
Either melange, or cappuccino,
or grosse schwartze.
A big black coffee.
A big black coffee.
It's an unwritten rule that a single
cup buys you the right to linger
as long as you like.
And around the turn of the 20th
century, British visitors could
have rubbed shoulders with thinkers
who came to exchange radical ideas.
Tell me about some of the well-known
people that I might have
bumped into in the coffee houses at
the beginning of the 20th Century?
All sorts of people,
but of course mainly intellectuals,
artists, writers.
And as a former politician
I would like to know,
were there any people
of my trade here?
Oh, yes, very much so, but just
before they became famous!
LAUGHTER
Who are you talking about?
Trotsky, Leo Trotsky.
Lenin.
Stalin.
All here in Vienna?
They used to meet at the Cafe
Central for playing chess!
Not so much reds under the bed
as reds in the coffee house!
Quite so.
Alongside Russian
revolutionaries, Cafe Central
regulars included Sigmund Freud, the
founding father of psychoanalysis.
Nowadays, no trip to Vienna is
complete without visiting
a cafe, for a drink and of course
a slice of something sweet.
There is such a
variety of cakes here.
With my Bradshaw's in one hand
it feels like a metaphor for the
Austro-Hungarian empire in 1913.
You've got Albanians and Slovenes
and Slovaks and Bosnians
Hungarians and Bohemians, all mixed
together in one Empire...
But very crumbly.
Vienna was the cultural, military
and political heart of the Empire.
But there was another side to
early 20th century Austria.
I'm now doing as the Viennese elite
did in the summer months, and taking
the Western mainline, completed
in 1860, out to the mountains.
Having used my 1913 Bradshaw's to
explore the Empire's two
biggest cities, I'm now heading
over 180 miles west to Salzburg,
the birthplace of Mozart.
From there, I'll trace my
guidebook's recommended route
through the stunning Salzkammergut
mountains,
finishing up at Bad Ischl, home to
the Emperor's summer retreat.
This Austrian express is whisking me
across the country
at 120 miles per hour.
Edwardian tourists would have
travelled at a more leisurely pace,
but one custom that hasn't changed
is the civilised tradition
of the dining car.
Guten Abend. Guten abend!
Bitte schon, er...eine
Wienerschnitzel vom schwein, bitte.
Ja. Und, um, ein Grune Veltsiner
wein bitte. Grune Veltliner.
Ja, kleine, kleine.
Sonst noch etwas?
Do you have any other wishes?
Oh, you speak English!
No other wishes, thank you very
much. You are welcome! Thank you.
A traditional Viennese dish is
a perfect way to put
the Austrian capital behind me,
and set myself up for the stunning
scenery awaiting me
on the next leg of my trip.
Ah, that looks very good!
Schon, schon danke.
Enjoy it, I hope it tastes good.
Thank you.
As the sun sets, the train arrives
in Salzburg
which my Bradshaw's tells me is
"1,350 feet above sea
"on both banks of the river Zalzac,
below some lofty hills,"
and is "regarded as one of
the most beautifully situated
places of Europe."
What a tantalising invitation to
explore this city.
I'm leaving the train here
and going off in search of my bed.
My exploration of stunning Salzburg
will have to wait till the morning.
MUSIC: "Symphony No. 40" by Mozart
First thing in sunny Salzburg
and the streets are already
buzzing with tourists.
And none of them can have missed
this city's biggest attraction.
Some places are best known
for being the birthplace
of a famous person, like Stratford
Upon Avon with William Shakespeare,
and Salzburg is
celebrated for its most famous son,
one of the most important
composers in the history of music.
Salzburg's homegrown musical genius
is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
And by 1913, railway tourists were
flocking here to honour his memory.
My guidebook directs fans to
"Getreidegasse, where, at number
seven, Mozart was born'.
Director of the museum, Gabriele
Ramsauer is showing me round.
Well, this is a lovely, big room,
and here I think I see Mozart
and these are the
portraits of the family.
Yes. This was the living
room of the Mozart family.
They were living here,
they were playing music,
they were meeting friends.
And I think this room has a really
great and wonderful atmosphere.
It is indeed very atmospheric.
MUSIC: "Rondo Alla Turca" by Mozart
This building is where, aged five,
Mozart began his composing career.
And it's also the birthplace of the
thriving Mozart heritage industry,
thanks to a pair of British fans.
It started in 1829, there a British
couple came here to see
the location of Mozart and it was
the couple Vincent and Mary Novello.
The travel diaries of Vincent and
Mary Novello in the year 1829.
"Vin and I made a pilgrimage to the
house where the divine Mozart
"first drew breath. I cannot
describe my feelings.
"We are both in a complete trance."
That's beautiful!
The Novellos' published diaries
helped inspire
the official Mozart tourist trail.
And in the late 19th century,
special railway tours began bringing
Britons to see this house
and to attend many music festivals
held in the city.
"Cook's personally conducted tour."
Belgium, The Rhine, Nuremburg,
Salzburg and the Grand Mozart
Festival.
Departing apparently from Holborn
Station in London,
crossing the continent and spending
about four days here
at the Salzburg Mozart Festival.
That's fantastic.
Thomas Cook had organised his first
railway excursions in the 1840s,
and soon took advantage of
the rapidly expanding international
network
to launch continental tours. These
"Mozart trains"
continued to be popular into
the 20th century, and by 1913,
rail travellers had a new way to
experience their favourite composer.
Even on a glorious afternoon like
this, I feel I should find time
to hear some Mozart opera,
and I'm on my way
to a little gem of a theatre.
I've come to this bijou playhouse
in the heart of Salzburg,
to see a performance of The Magic
Flute with a difference.
OPERA SINGING IN GERMAN
Today, the Marionette Theatre
is one of Salzburg's best-loved
tourist attractions,
and it all began in the era
of my 1913 railway guide.
I'm going behind the scenes with
puppeteer Philippe Brunner.
How long has opera been performed
with these marionettes?
Since 1913 the theatre started with
a very small opera
by Mozart Bastien und Bastienne
and since then has done many
of Mozart's operas and also other
composers.
With ever more tourists visiting
Salzburg by rail,
the puppet theatre found
a ready-made audience.
And while these days the puppeteers
perform to recorded music,
Edwardian readers of my guidebook
would have watched the marionettes
miming to live singers.
Do any of the puppets from 1913
survive?
Yes, they do. We have a lot of them
in a museum but we have some here
I can show you.
This is father Mozart. He also dates
from 1913.
Hello, nice to meet you.
How do you do? Very well.
MICHAEL LAUGHS
He's beautiful. Yes, and you see,
he is a much smaller scale
than the puppets we use today.
These must be very splendid people
to work with.
Oh, absolutely. They don't fuss
around. No prima donnas!
No, not at all.
It takes up to eight years to learn
how to work these remarkable
marionettes, but Philippe's going to
see what he can teach me
in ten minutes.
You move from left to right
and the puppet is walking.
And with your other hand you use the
front and then you move the head
from left to right. And then you
push here
and then he opens his mouth. Raargh!
Great. You're doing very well.
My lion is taking a walk through
the forest...when he meets a...
Ooh! Very tall person. Raargh!
Raargh!
Raargh! I'm not afraid of you.
You may have a long neck,
I have a very long tail.
Raargh!
Ah! I scared him off.
Well, I've pulled some political
strings in my time
but I think I'd better leave
the puppets to the pros.
It's time for me to swap historic
Salzburg for the pure air
of the Austrian mountains.
Now my Bradshaw's urges me
to head for the country to
the Saltkammergut,
"A beautiful district of lake
and mountain east of Salzburg,
"easily accessible
by rail and steamer.
"Though a day may suffice for
a hasty visit,
"the attractions of two or three
favoured spots will hardly
"be appreciated unless a stay of
a few days be made at each."
Oh, for the leisure of
a 1913 traveller.
In the 1900s, only the wealthy
middle and upper classes
could afford to explore this
remarkable region,
but it's not hard to see why,
once here, they wanted to linger.
With limestone mountains, glacial
lakes and unspoilt villages,
it's a picture postcard landscape of
breath-taking beauty.
I'm picking up my next form of
transport in pretty St Gilgen,
to the east of Salzburg.
My Bradshaw's says that the steamer
may be taken in preference
to the train, which is fortunate
because some of the railway lines
that existed at the time of
my guide have been axed.
So I will proceed by water.
My authentic paddle steamer's route
hasn't changed since 1913.
Back then, this lovely scenery was
already a firm favourite
with tourists. But in the 1960s,
the region was shot to
international fame
as the setting for one of the most
successful movies of all time...
The Sound Of Music.
# BOTH: My heart will be blessed
with the sound of music
# And I'll sing once more. #
APPLAUSE
Wolfgang, do you find that
the tourists who arrive,
they're coming in large numbers?
Yes. They join in, the sing and they
dance and they clap their hands.
There are sometimes choruses
of 50 people
and everybody is singing with us
and that is a very high feeling.
Are they word perfect?
Yes, they know it by heart.
# BOTH: Doe, a deer, a female deer
# Ray, a drop of golden sun...
MICHAEL JOINS IN:
# Me, a name I call myself
# Fa, a long, long way to run
# Sew, a needle pulling thread
# La, a note to follow so
# Tea, a drink with jam and bread
# That will bring us back to doe
# Doe, ray, me, fa, so, la, tea, doe
# So, doe... #
Luckily for my fellow tourists,
there's no more time for singing.
My paddle steamer has carried me
across the Wolfgansee Lake
to St Wolfgang Station.
From here, Edwardian travellers
could experience the railway ride
of a lifetime.
HE SPEAKS IN GERMAN
My Bradshaw's is very clear about
the next stage of my journey.
"From St Wolfgang a climbing rail
ascends the Schafberg, 5,840 feet.
"The panorama from the top
is very extensive."
And fortunately the climbing rail
is still here.
I'm taking a trip on this beautiful
tourist line with its director,
Gunther Mackinger.
How very kind of you. Thank you very
much. Thank you. Take a seat.
WHISTLE BLARES
TRAIN WHISTLES
Built in 1893, it's one of Austria's
most vertiginous stretches of track.
This is a lovely railway. What
sort of gradient does it reach?
This is the steepest railway
with 26%.
That's what we would call one in
four, that's very steep indeed.
The line was built so that tourists
could admire the stunning views.
To cope with the gradient,
cogs were used for traction
and a rather unusual engine
was designed.
Your locomotive is very distinctive
because it's kind of
built at an angle.
Because the railway is so steep
and the water in the boiler
must always fill
the boiler complete,
otherwise there would be the danger
of a boiler explosion.
It's absolutely obvious when you say
it, but it had never occurred to me.
Although the railway does still run
original locomotives
from the 1890s, this engine is
a modern copy.
And powered by steam climbing the
Shafberg is an unforgettable ascent.
My Bradshaw's promised me a panorama
but I never expected anything as
grand and as magnificent as this.
Danke. Auf wiedersehen.
Fortunately for me,
as I leave the train,
it's not the last
I'll see of the vista.
Because amazingly,
the cog train has brought me
to my bed for the night.
After one of the most remarkable
train journeys in the world,
I am now going to be staying
in an extraordinary place...
on top of a mountain.
There's been a hotel perched atop
the Shafberg ever since 1862.
It must surely be one of the most
spectacular places in Europe
to break a railway journey.
Having woken at my hotel in the
clouds, it's time for me to descend
the mountain and continue my
exploration of the Salzkammergut.
From medieval times, this region
fuelled the wealth and power
of the Habsburg dynasty,
who had a monopoly
on the valuable salt deposits hidden
in the mountains.
But by the early 20th century,
the family was coming here by rail
on holiday.
Their favourite bolt hole
was Bad Ischl,
described in my 1913 guide as
"a very fashionable resort."
To get there, my Bradshaw's outlines
"a comparatively tame train ride
"of half an hour" on the
Salzkammergut Local Railway.
But that service was closed in 1957,
so I'm taking a very scenic route
to my final destination.
At Bad Ischl, my Bradshaw's tells me
that the park of Imperial Villa
may be visited during absences
of the family.
I'm headed for the place where,
with a few strokes of the pen,
a Habsburg Emperor consigned
his dynasty to history.
Just a year after my guidebook was
published, the spa town of Bad Ischl
played a pivotal role in the events
which led to the First World War.
But the story began half a century
earlier, when this grand villa was
given to the Emperor Franz Josef by
his mother, as a wedding present.
Nice to see you.
I'm taking a tour with historian
Lothar Hobelt.
Now, Franz Josef was not necessarily
a very happy man
during his life, was he happy here?
I think this is where, the part of
the world he found easiest to relax.
So he came here almost every summer.
I mean, Franz Joseph was not
a great man to relax, anyway.
A great pastime he enjoyed most
was hunting.
One's of course got remember that
that was the pastime for aristocrats
or the elite in general,
just like golfing today.
And it was also a place where he
could meet people informally,
you know? I mean, everything else
is at a court like Franz Josef's
and he's a stickler for detail.
Everything else is arranged
according to ceremonial,
but with hunting
it gets a little more relaxed.
But soon after my guidebook
was written,
events caught up with the Emperor
even in his private paradise.
By the summer of 1914, simmering
tensions with the neighbouring
Kingdom of Serbia had reached
boiling point.
In June of that year, Franz Josef's
nephew and heir,
Franz Ferdinand, was visiting
the Empire's Balkan territories
when a Serbian nationalist
took drastic action.
And he receives news here, does he,
of the assassination of the heir
Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo?
Yes. And I think he knew even then
that this was going to mean war.
By 1914, Franz Josef was
increasingly worried
about Serbia's aggressive
nationalist ambitions,
and the assassination of the heir
apparent was the final straw.
On 28th July, here in Bad Ischl,
the Emperor declared war
on his troublesome neighbour.
Once the Emperor had signed the
declaration of war at Bad Ischl,
does he go back to Vienna?
Yes, he does, and he leaves by train,
of course,
and it seems he never came back to
this house, because during wartime
it simply wasn't thought appropriate
to take summer holidays.
Thanks to complex alliances,
other powers were soon
drawn into the conflict.
Germany sided with Austria-Hungary,
while Russia, allied to France,
backed Serbia.
The Emperor's show of strength
quickly snowballed
into a global war.
Franz Josef died in 1916.
And when German and Austro-Hungarian
forces were defeated
two years later,
his successor abdicated
as the empire crumbled around him.
But the Habsburg family
didn't die out.
Amazingly, this villa is still
family home to Markus Habsburg.
Wilkommen. How very nice to see you.
Michael Portillo. Come here.
So, I am addressing the great
grandson of the Emperor Franz Josef.
Ja. What a great pleasure.
Having made his fateful decision,
Franz Josef wrote to his peoples,
making the case for war.
And the manifesto that he produced
was signed in this very room.
Yes, these are the four sheets
of paper typewritten,
and it bears a signature
of Franz Josef
and it was signed on 28 July 1914.
It was finally printed
in all the newspapers
and in all the languages
of the monarchy.
There were 13 languages
in his empire.
The most important decision
of Franz Josef's life?
It was heavy decision for him
personally,
but an important decision in
European history, unfortunately.
A very historic document and
a very historic piece furniture.
On this journey, I've discovered
the rich complexity of pre-war
Austria-Hungary.
An patchwork of nationalities, it
was held together by one family
and its historic power.
But by the time my guidebook
was published,
the seeds of its demise had already
been sown.
When Franz Josef left here by train
in 1914, he had unknowingly
sealed the fate of the Habsburg
Empire.
The First World War destroyed it
and Austria, Hungary
and the other countries
went their separate ways.
My Bradshaw's has guided me through
the Empire's twilight years
of extravagance and sensuality.
Compared with the horrors
that were to befall those countries
in the rest of the 20th Century,
it was an age of innocence.
Next time, I'll take to the tracks
in the former German Empire,
Europe's industrial powerhouse...
I can actually see into
everybody's window,
I can see into everybody's house.
..in its most scenic spots.
When on the Rhine,
eat as Rhinelanders do.
I'll learn what attracted
Edwardian tourists...
Hello, my beauties!
Nice to meet you!
..and discover how
its close ties with Britain
were soon to be shattered.
So the two countries
that went to war
were ruled over by first cousins?
Yes, first cousins.
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd