Business called for a trip from Tokyo to Salzburg, Austria. As I mapped out the itinerary, a discovery was made: flying into Munich in neighboring southern Germany and continuing by rail was not only more economical than connecting through Vienna but also offered greater scheduling flexibility. This is Europe, after all, where freedom of movement is cherished and ground transportation networks are superb. Opting for the German route without hesitation turned the journey into an opportunity to reaffirm the joy and importance of having diverse travel options. What follows is an account of the overland trek from Munich International Airport to the city of Salzburg and its airport.
My journey began aboard an Etihad Airways flight from Abu Dhabi, landing at Munich International Airport. Nearly all 260 passengers filling the Airbus A330-200 shuffled towards a single immigration checkpoint in Terminal 1. The hall was surprisingly cramped, funneling into just three open booths for officers – a setup clearly exceeding its capacity. The throng wasn’t primarily Europeans returning home, but a diverse mosaic of people from across the globe, routed through the massive Middle Eastern hub of Abu Dhabi en route to the European continent. The collective urgency to move forward, mixed with vastly different behaviors, manners, and cultural norms, brewed a scene of barely controlled chaos. And there I was, caught right in the middle of this frantic scrum.
After nearly an hour of waiting in a state resembling being trapped in a stalled, packed elevator, relief washed over me as my turn at the counter finally approached. Suddenly, a group of about twenty individuals, appearing to be of South Asian descent, calmly cut in front of me from behind. Dumbfounded by this unexpected maneuver, I found my position instantly relegated to 21st or further back in the queue (or what vaguely resembled one). It was hard to believe such disorder could unfold at a major EU international airport in this day and age. Or perhaps, I mused, until immigration is cleared, one isn’t truly in hyper-efficient Germany yet? Standing rooted to the spot, I muttered to myself, wondering if this was some sort of trial by fire to enter the realm of free Europe.
When my turn finally did come, the German immigration officer seemed past the point of exhaustion. Any trace of annoyance had faded into sheer, expressionless apathy. “Next time,” he muttered, handing back my passport with words that hung ambiguously between jest and genuine advice, “(If you’re Japanese) you’d be wise to take the direct flight from Tokyo arriving at Terminal 2.” It struck me then: the relentless expansion of global travel must be creating these kinds of pressure points, these distortions, wherever its currents reach. Setting foot on German soil felt like a tangible encounter with the world’s uneven realities, something impossible to grasp solely from online information.
In striking contrast to the bedlam at immigration, the terminal building itself was a picture of order. Everything seemed compact yet meticulously designed. While Munich International is one of Europe’s venerable airports, its commitment to functionality and design is deeply impressive. As the officer noted, direct flights from Japan do arrive (presumably at the more modern Terminal 2), so many readers might already be familiar with this typically “German,” buttoned-down efficiency. Between Terminals 1 and 2 lies the “Airport Center,” housing shops, services, and the train station, alongside a vast, covered plaza reminiscent of a grand railway station hall. This plaza hosts a quintessential Munich beer garden and, during the holiday season, a large Christmas market. It’s a pioneering example of an airport facility enjoyable even for non-travelers, yet it avoids being overly commercial or event-driven, retaining an understated European flair. It’s easy to see why this airport likely ranks high in public favor. My choice to enter via Munich felt vindicated.
Trains to the city depart from the subterranean station beneath the Airport Center. Purchasing a ticket for the DB (Deutsche Bahn) is straightforward using multilingual automated machines that accept cash or credit cards. The graphically intuitive route maps are easy to follow; anyone accustomed to Japan’s rail system would navigate it with little trouble. The ride to Munich Hauptbahnhof (Central Station) takes about 45 minutes. Though the airport is 30 kilometers from the city center, the distance feels negligible during the swift journey. The Hauptbahnhof itself exudes the quintessential atmosphere of a grand European terminus. While the overall structure is modern, incorporating numerous underground platforms, the main hall sheltering the tracks under a vast, iron-framed roof retains the traditional romance of the end of the line. Destinations displayed on the waiting trains span not just Germany, but cities across Europe – France, Switzerland, and beyond.
A train station pulses with ceaseless activity. Here, travelers of every stripe, from businesspeople to backpackers, occupy themselves, using the station as their personal travel hub. In Europe, I find the ambiance of airports and major train stations remarkably similar. Are airports becoming more like stations, or vice versa? Though the modes of transport differ, they share a core identity: functions and conveniences distilled and refined over decades of use, serving as vital nodes for human movement.
Digital departure boards are highly visible, updating information with second-by-second accuracy. Train punctuality, naturally, is said to be equally high. Locating the Salzburg-bound train among the departures listed minute-by-minute, I headed for the platform. Boarding the carriage, I noted the destination simply read “Salzburg,” with no mention of “Austria.” The journey between Munich and Salzburg takes about two and a half hours. Though international, it’s a major regional artery with several departures per hour, feeling more akin to a frequent intercity bus service than a cross-border expedition.
Departing punctually, the train carried local business commuters and students alongside travelers (myself included) seemingly from all corners of the globe. Gliding smoothly at high speed, we cut southeast through the southern German countryside and entered Austria before I knew it. There were no immigration facilities, no passport checks, not even an announcement. The very concept of a border seemed absent. I only realized we’d crossed into Austria when a roadside sign indicated Salzburg city center was just a few kilometers away.
This “borderless” experience is thanks to the Schengen Agreement, which Germany and Austria are both party to. This pact, primarily involving EU member states (excluding the UK, Ireland, and a few others), abolishes internal border checks, serving as a powerful symbol of European integration. Freedom of movement between member states is guaranteed, creating a de facto borderless zone. Travelers arriving from outside the area, like myself from Japan, clear immigration upon first entry; subsequent travel within the Schengen zone is free of border controls. While some land and air borders between member countries retain vestigial immigration booths or conduct cursory passport glances, the rail journey between Germany and Austria genuinely involved “nothing.”
This seamlessness is underpinned not only by national policies but also by the deep historical and cultural ties connecting Bavaria in southern Germany and the state of Salzburg in Austria. Indeed, some in Munich view Salzburg almost as a historic suburban town, while many Salzburg residents feel a stronger connection to Munich, 140 kilometers away, than to their own capital, Vienna, which lies 300 kilometers distant. The flow of people and goods between the two regions is immense. Pondering this could lead to philosophical questions about nationhood, but for the traveler, this level of freedom is undeniably convenient.
However, this “nothingness” at the border was temporarily suspended starting in September 2015. The influx of refugees, estimated in the millions, primarily from conflict zones like Syria arriving overland into Europe, prompted temporary border checks. While long-term refugee policies were debated at EU and national levels, the immediate reality necessitated measures to manage the flow, leading to limited restrictions on movement within the EU (a provision allowed as an exception under the Schengen framework). It served as a sobering reminder that even the freedom of internal European travel can be subject to global events. As a traveler, I always try to remember how fortunate we are to enjoy freedom of movement, whether by land or air.
Lost in these thoughts, the train quietly pulled into Salzburg Hauptbahnhof. The station building seamlessly blends the charm of a historic Central European railway hub with the design, functionality, usability, and amenities of a modern European airport terminal. Arriving directly in the heart of a neighboring country’s ancient capital just three hours after leaving Munich Airport, with only one change of trains, felt remarkably efficient and deeply satisfying. Compared to flying into Vienna and taking a domestic connection to Salzburg, this route held its own in terms of both cost and travel time. These two distinct options exemplify the choices available in a mature travel market.
Salzburg, the capital of the Austrian state of the same name, boasts an Old Town (Altstadt) and historic center designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site. The name itself means “Salt Fortress”; the Salzach River flowing through the city once carried vital salt mined nearby to destinations across Europe, bringing immense wealth to the city. Cobblestone streets wind through the Old Town, seemingly unchanged since the Middle Ages. The imposing Hohensalzburg Fortress, originally built in the 11th century and one of Europe’s best-preserved medieval castles, dominates the skyline from almost anywhere in the city. Other highlights are countless, including the elegant 17th-century Mirabell Palace and Gardens, and Nonnberg Abbey, founded before the turn of the first millennium.
Yet, Salzburg’s allure as a historic tourist destination is magnified immensely by its status as the birthplace (in 1756) of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who lived and worked here until age 25. For musicians and classical music aficionados worldwide, the city is akin to a pilgrimage site. Visitors can tour Mozart’s Birth House on the famous Getreidegasse, and performances of his works are a cornerstone of the renowned annual Salzburg Festival held each summer. In Salzburg, one can experience a sense of time travel amidst the medieval streetscapes unlike almost anywhere else. Even for someone like me, not particularly versed in music, it offers a chance to grasp how classical music intertwines with European urban history and art. It’s truly one of those places every world traveler should visit at least once.
Wrapped in a peculiar sense of contentment, I headed from the city center to Salzburg International Airport to meet my colleague. The “business” that brought me here was, in fact, to rendezvous with this acquaintance, who was visiting Salzburg for a separate assignment. Their itinerary followed the path I’d forgone: flying into Vienna and connecting domestically to Salzburg Airport. The drive from the city to the airport is short, about 20 minutes, and easily accessible via city bus for just a few euros.
Salzburg International Airport’s official name is “Salzburg Airport W. A. Mozart.” Even the smaller second terminal is dubbed “Amadeus Terminal 2” – the city and airport fully embracing the Amadeus connection. While not enormous in operational scale, the airport possesses an understated elegance befitting a city of history and art, evident in its terminals and control tower. Besides scheduled flights primarily within Europe, the airport is notable for handling a high volume of charter flights, business jets, and private aircraft. During the Salzburg Festival, wealthy music lovers fly in directly on their private planes day after day, creating a glamorous buzz.
The terminal building features a rooftop observation deck, refreshingly open with no fences or wires obstructing the view. A proper cafe with waiters and waitresses offers full service, with tables and umbrellas set up outside on the deck. Watching families and couples leisurely enjoying beer and salads while waiting for arrivals or departures evoked a subtle sense of the unhurried local quality of life. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy, wishing more regional airports back home in Japan offered such relaxed, civilized spaces.
Gazing out from the deck, beyond the ramps and runway, a gleaming structure catches the eye: Hangar-7. This shell-shaped, glass-and-steel building belongs to the energy drink company Red Bull. Its Austrian founder, the late Dietrich Mateschitz, was a renowned aviation enthusiast who amassed a diverse collection of aircraft as a personal passion project separate from his main business. Hangar-7 serves as a facility for maintaining, storing, and displaying parts of this collection. Although located on airport grounds, it’s not part of the general airport infrastructure but is operated directly by Red Bull.
While waiting leisurely for my colleague’s flight, I watched as a lovingly restored Lockheed Super Constellation (in Breitling livery) and a Douglas DC-6 (painted in Red Bull colors) gracefully landed and taxied directly into Hangar-7. To eyes accustomed to seeing modern jets land and take off at airports, it felt like witnessing apparitions from another era on a late summer afternoon. The routine presence of such extraordinary sights makes Salzburg Airport truly unique. Incidentally, parts of Hangar-7 are open to the public for free viewing, complete with a cafe and shop. If you find yourself in Salzburg, it’s well worth a visit. It’s located across the airfield from the main terminals, but easily reachable by asking a taxi heading from the airport towards the city to make a brief stop.
Airports, railways, highways… In Europe, one truly feels that various modes of transport are simply interchangeable means to an end – tools for individual movement. Here, the value of each option seems judged not solely on infrastructural efficiency or cost, but also as a matter of lifestyle or “style.” Decisions about superiority, differences, or convenience rest ultimately with the individual user. We often hear the term “travel options” these days. In the European context, this word signifies more than just a wider range of services or price points; it embodies the individual’s freedom and potential to shape their own journey. There is much to learn from a travel culture where “movement” and “freedom” are almost synonymous.
A small aircraft emerges between the distant mountains beyond the runway. It seems my colleague’s flight is about to arrive. After concluding our work in Salzburg over the next few days, should I take the train back to Germany? Or perhaps change plans and fly out from this very airport? The freedom to weigh these different choices, to savor the possibilities – that, perhaps, is the very definition of travel.
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