The day was winding down, and we decided to just walk around the city some more, and explore the other side of the river Salzach which divides the city into two parts. (“Salzburg” means salt castle, and is named for being in essence a major tollbooth for the salt barges moving down the river.) We watched a fisherman on the river bank as the whole scene was bathed in brilliant blue light.
Once across the river, it was time for a break! Loved the craft beer here, but not the heavy cigarette smoke. The “working class” signage is not ironic – this is clearly a place for the local guys to meet and hang out. The local dialect was as thick as the smoke in the air, and some people were playing cards, and just generally chewing the fat.
We continued strolling along Linzergasse, one of the main streets on this side of the river, charming in the dusk as the lights were coming on.
As I was looking at it, a 30-something blond man asked me if I knew what it was and I said yes, and that it was sad. The café there (where he either worked or was simply hanging out having a smoke) had been the home of a Jewish resident (all of whom were deported and murdered during the war). We talked about it briefly. Then he said, “It wasn’t just the Jews, you know” – as if that somehow made the history less damaging, or not anti-Semitic? I asked him if he was Jewish. He said in a shocked tone of voice, “Me!? No!” Here, too, the denial is thick, and anti-Semitism is vague but ubiquitous, like the cigarette smoke in the air.