destination St Florian, Austria

The Augustinian Monastery at St Florian – about 12km from the Austrian city of Linz – was built in the Baroque style on the site of earlier Norman and Gothic churches, though the earliest records of an abbey on the site date back to 819 AD. It's named after a Roman official and Christian martyr who was buried here after being executed by drowning in the River Enns in 304 AD; in memory of his watery death he is now the patron saint of protection again flood and fire. My musical interest in St Florian was the composer and organist Anton Bruckner (1824-1896), who was a pupil here from 1837-40, returning as a teacher in 1845, and finally moving to Vienna in 1868. / more

St Florian highlights

Monastery Exterior

The Monastery as it now stands was built between 1686 and 1751 by Carlo Antonio Carlone and Jakob Prandtauer. It was constructed on the site of earlier Norman (consecrated 1074) and Gothic (consecrated 1291) churches, and its exterior has remained unchanged since 1751. The 214 metre west elevation is dominated by the Trumpeters' Tower over the main entrance, and by the towers of the church.

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Monastery Interior

An interesting tour (in German) of the inside of the monastery, including the fantastic decorated library built by Gotthard Hayberger in 1751, with a ceiling by Bartolomeo Altomonte depicting the Marriage of Virtue and Science, which contains 125,000 printed books and 1000 hand-written manuscripts dating back to the 9th century; the Marble Hall, a Baroque masterpiece by Jakob Prandtauer with a ceiling by Martin Altomonte; and the outstanding series of paintings by Albrecht Altdorfer from around 1500 depicting The Legend of St. Sebastian and the Passion of Christ.

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Church and 'Bruckner Organ'

The guided tour of the monastery finished in the magnificent Baroque church, with the 'Bruckner organ' and Bruckner's tomb below it in the crypt of particular interest to me. The remarkable ceiling of the church illustrates the martyrdom of St Florian – he is flagellated, beaten, thrown into the River Enns and assumed into Heaven, where he is glorified as the patron saint against fire. I returned to the church later, after a break outside in the watery sun, for an excellent 20-minute organ recital; I'd already bought a CD of the organ from a choice of several in the monastery shop.

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Canons Regular of the St Augustine's order have been working at St Florian's since 1071. Today, most of the 80 members of the order serve across 30 parishes, while in the monastery itself they teach at the Theological College and in the Choir School.

I'd travelled to St. Florian on a day trip from Salzburg. The train arrived in Linz eight minutes late, which meant that I just missed the hourly bus to St Florian (although to be fair I would have needed to know where the bus station was and which of its many platforms to stand at). A total of an hour's wait for the 10:35 bus, then, which itself arrived in the village of St Florian 15 minutes late due to heavy traffic; I then I had a ten minute walk up the hill to the monastery.

The bus stop for the monastery is not obvious, but a fellow passenger kindly pointed out where I should get off – the shelter is labelled Einsatzzentrale [literally 'Operations Centre', which I suppose is 'town centre' in bus-speak] in Linzer Straße, and the return journey to Linz starts in nearby Stiftstraße.

I'd been aiming for (and missed) the 11:00 tour, which I thought was the last of the morning, but in fact there was a 12:00 tour so all was well. I bought a joint ticket for the (German) tour and the 14:30 organ recital, and bought an orange juice in the cafe/restaurant (I think the waiter was a bit sniffy because I didn't order a meal). The journey back to Salzburg was easier, but it had still been a long day: four hours to get there, four hours in St Florian, two and a half hours back to Salzburg. The rush-hour train was crowded, with everyone playing the usual tricks to stop anyone sitting next to them (bag on seat, pretending to be asleep...) but I used my best British and London Underground training to elbow my way in.