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It all started on the phone, talking to a friend about a girlie trip that I was organising to Innsbruck. Slinging my bag down at the Goldener Adler, a chintzy, ritzy atmospheric hotel where greats including Mozart, Goethe and Wagner have stayed, I head out to admire the view. From the top of the 15th century Stadturm city tower with its green onion dome where guards once kept watch while the city slept, I recover from climbing steps and sniff deep breaths of fresh mountain air.
Invented by Franz Sacher in Vienna in for sweet-toothed Prince Wenzel von Metternich, this creamy chocolate cake, glazed with apricot jam and served with a cloud of fresh whipped cream, is a royal — and calorie-packed — treat. I linger longest in the Sisi Museum, where a clutter of personal objects relates the fascinating tale of this carefree year-old, who married an Emperor and was later assassinated. Emperor Maximilian, who built the Hofburg, has an outrageously ornate tomb in the Gothic Hofkirche church and the Tyrolean folk art museum, full of traditional costumes, and reproductions of old farmhouses, is fascinating.
Seeking something quirky, I hop into a carriage and jingle all the way to the Bell museum just outside of town. For four centuries, the Grassmayr family have cast bells here and you can watch them manipulating the man-sized chimes, then listen to them jangling in the museum next door.
We swish up to the top of Alpengasthof Meisnerhaus on a snowmobile and Franz hands me a pair of raquettes.
