Innsbruck sits in a bowl. The Inn river runs through the middle, the town name means bridge over the Inn, and on both sides steep limestone mountains rise almost from the streets. To the north the jagged Nordkette stands over the rooftops, and a funicular and a cable car carry you from the old centre to over two thousand metres in about twenty minutes, so that you can drink a morning coffee in town and an afternoon coffee among the rocks.
The old town is compact and colourful, with arcaded houses, narrow lanes and a small balcony roofed in gilded copper tiles that Emperor Maximilian ordered around the year 1500, now known as the Golden Roof. Maximilian was fond of this place and is buried, in a manner of speaking, in a vast tomb in the Hofkirche, surrounded by life-size bronze figures of ancestors and heroes. In the modern era the town hosted the Winter Olympics in 1964 and 1976, and the ski jump at Bergisel, redesigned by Zaha Hadid, stands above the town as a dramatic curve of steel and glass.
Innsbruck is the great crossroads of the Alps for riders. South of it the Brenner road leads to Italy, passing under the tall bridge called the Europabrücke, and the old pass itself, at about thirteen hundred and seventy metres, is one of the lowest crossings of the main Alpine chain, which is why it has been used since Roman times. West, the road goes into the valleys of the Ötztal and Kühtai, where the climbs are steeper and the passes higher. Traffic in the valley can be heavy, particularly lorries on the Brenner corridor and holiday queues at weekends, so leave early.
Fuel and food are plentiful in a city of well over a hundred thousand. Station prices on the motorway are higher than in town, and Austrian vignette rules apply on motorways, so check that you have one. Föhn winds can bring warm air and startling clarity, with the mountains looking close enough to touch, and they sometimes bring headaches and gusts too. Spring and autumn are quieter, summer is busy but lovely, and winter belongs to the skiers.