I press my finger against the slightly misted bus window, tracing jagged mountains meeting the starry expanse above. On any other night, darkness would blur these stark contrasts. But tonight, flickers of pumpkin-hued flames serve as my beacon.
Once a year, in June, Tyrol revives its ancient tradition of Kreidfeuer – chalk fires atop the Eastern Alps. Silhouettes of falcons, crosses, and other symbols blaze across the valley, marking the arrival of midsummer rather than signaling adversaries. Like guiding lights, they lead us from the tranquil countryside to the bustling city below.
As I step off the bus, I shake off the enchanting yet lengthy journey through Switzerland’s vineyards, lakes, and now these oil lantern-lit pathways. Midnight has come and gone, and the solstice draws near. Somewhere above the city, nestled in Austria’s Nordkette range, bonfires continue to roar, and steins overflow with cheer.
By daybreak, the scent of smoke will have vanished, and Innsbruck’s summer will dawn with the first light.
Terraces and towers
If the Stadtturm represented the lowest of the summertime highs I would encounter in Innsbruck, then the city was setting some lofty expectations indeed.
Perched atop the Stadtturm, a towering structure dating back to the 1450s and standing 51 meters tall, I found myself surrounded by a breathtaking 360-degree panorama – a veritable pop-up book of the city’s highlights, seemingly within arm’s reach. Below me shimmered the Goldenes Dachl, a picturesque landmark adorned with frescoes and crowned with copper-gilded tiles, commanding attention in a quaint square. Across the cobblestone streets, the ornate facade of the Baroque Helblinghaus vied for my gaze.
Behind me, the verdant slopes of the mountains provided a striking backdrop, with the green-domed copper roofs of the Imperial Palace blending seamlessly into the landscape. Meanwhile, Maria-Theresien-Straße – named after the archduchess who held a deep affection for the city – wound its way through the Altstadt. From the bustling Town Square, flanked by grand, pastel-hued buildings, to the majestic Triumphal Arch, a marble-clad monument reminiscent of Rome, this thoroughfare formed the heart of the historic district. Beyond lay the imposing Bergisel, a prominent hilltop that served as a perpetual reminder of Innsbruck’s vibrant sporting culture.
Yet, despite the allure of the city’s architectural wonders and bustling streets, my gaze was inevitably drawn upwards, towards the towering peaks that surrounded Innsbruck. Innsbruck wasn’t a city nestled among the mountains; rather, it was a city where the mountains formed an integral part of its very essence. Wherever you turned, you couldn’t help but feel enveloped and humbled by their majestic presence. I closed my eyes and envisioned the city draped in a blanket of winter snow, resembling something out of a Christmas card. When I opened them again, the summer landscape stretched out before me, with only a dusting of snow atop the rugged peaks.
Inspired by the gentle toll of church bells – there was no urgency to rise early on the year’s longest day – I set out in search of a quintessential Tyrolean lunch. While the sun may not evoke cravings for hearty winter fare, a traditional Gröstl (diced potatoes and meat topped with an egg) seemed the ideal complement to the season’s inaugural beer.
As the streets basked in Sunday afternoon sunlight, terraces brimmed with plates, pints, and people; charming timber-beamed cafes served up indulgent ice cream treats, while locals, donned in their breeziest summer attire, congregated around the main town square, soaking in the ambiance. Innsbruck’s streets were far from crowded – the city’s peak season being the winter ski months – yet they buzzed with the joyous energy of summer.
Returning to my temporary refuge, the Stage 12 Hotel, and resisting the allure of the top-floor sauna, I added a few extra layers. While Innsbruck’s quaint streets exuded summer’s warmth, a rugged, almost winter-like landscape awaited high above the city.
Alps open to all
Disembarking the Hungerburgbahn funicular at its eponymous station, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was somehow in the wrong place. Everything seemed far too effortless.
From there, the promised peaks were a mere eight minutes away, courtesy of the Nordkettenbahnen cable car. And then, after a brief ride on a second lift, I would arrive at the summit of Hafelekar. Just ten minutes earlier, I had been amidst the hustle and bustle of city center shops and churches, and in just as little time, I would apparently be nearing the highest point in Innsbruck – Austrians certainly don’t skimp on mountain accessibility.
The initial stop on any journey up the Nordkette (Northern Range) is the Seegrube station. Exiting the glass enclosure, I felt Innsbruck’s summer beginning to fade, a refreshing breeze accompanying the paragliders soaring high above.
At the mountain restaurant, tables were in high demand. Families, retirees, and weary climbers from the Via Ferrata were refueling with hearty meals, while others sipped on beers or Hugos – an elderflower and prosecco cocktail – beside the lingering embers of last night’s fires. It seemed as though everyone had congregated here, and the cable car’s accessibility fostered an inclusive atmosphere. For those seeking a less strenuous excursion, the easily navigable Path of Perspectives, with its protruding platforms, offered a gentler alternative.
Year-round Alpine architecture
In my excitement to reach Innsbruck’s summit, I had overlooked the Alpine stations we had passed. Designed by the visionary Zaha Hadid, who drew inspiration from local ice formations, the stations’ sleek, curved roofs appear to float effortlessly against the backdrop of the lush slopes.
Even the Hungerburgbahn itself showcases ingenious design; the carriage’s varying heights as it ascends the slope demonstrate a forward-thinking approach to funicular design.
Yet, Zaha Hadid’s architectural legacy in Innsbruck extends beyond transporting mountain enthusiasts. Her most renowned design in the city is the Bergisel.
Located on the outskirts of the city, where urban development gives way to reclaiming forests, stands a towering structure that embodies Innsbruck’s enduring passion: skiing. So deeply ingrained is this sport in the city’s identity that Zaha Hadid devoted herself to crafting a tower that not only boasted flawless aesthetics but also offered spectators a panoramic view to appreciate the daring feats of athletes from every angle.
While the stadium itself dates back to the 1930s, having been rebuilt for the 1964 Winter Olympics, Hadid’s ski jump arrived much later, yet its impact remains timeless.
For those yearning to experience a taste of Innsbruck’s ski season during summer, this tower beckons. Whether in the early morning or late afternoon, these thrill-seeking athletes will leave you spellbound, whether viewed from the observation platform or the inviting glass-fronted restaurant. Filled with a sense of wonder and fortified with a shot of espresso, I found myself once again pressed against the glass, tracing the steep descent of the jumpers in utter disbelief.
