In search of the maestro ... You get a real intimate sense of Mozart in Salzburg. Photograph: Roland Grant Archive
It's the last day of our family trip to Salzburg and the last day of my bid to turn my two children into Mozart aficionados. Mozart spent most of his time in Salzburg working for the archbishop, so it felt only fitting to start the day in St Rupert's Cathedral where he worked, and where he was baptised. If you're a fan of choral music, St Rupert's is the business. The singing here is heavenly, the organ playing is divine, and the best time to hear them come together is during mass, in this cavernous cathedral for which Mozart, a devout Catholic, wrote some of his most lovely melodies.
Our kids actually go to church fairly regularly when we're back home, but we're bog standard C of E, and they're certainly not used to sitting through an entire service in German. I had my doubts whether they'd last the distance – they're only eight and four, after all – but they both did pretty well, and I like to think the music had a lot to do with it. It certainly knocked the stuffing out of Songs of Praise. High up in the balcony, hidden from the congregation, the sound of the choir filled this vast dome, and the effect was spectacular. You didn't need to be remotely religious to feel overwhelmed.
Our final bit of Mozart was another concert, a recital of his majestic Requiem - the last thing he ever wrote, still unfinished when he died, aged just 35. It's performed every week in his local church, the Kollegienkirche, just across the street from his Geburtshaus, and this setting is sublime. The acoustics aren't the greatest, but somehow that hardly seems to matter. You feel really close to Mozart here, and I found the whole experience intensely moving. Though the exterior of the church is splendid the interior is a bit dilapidated, yet for me this merely heightened its emotional appeal.
But what about the children? Were they just as thrilled? Well, my daughter Thea (aged four) didn't last long - my wife had to take her out after about ten minutes - but to my surprise (and pride and pleasure) my son Edward (aged eight) was mesmerised. And to top it all, at the end Thea came back in to join in the applause. She'd been listening with her mum outside.
So, after five days in Salzburg, what do my kids think of Mozart? Have they been transformed into avid fans, or do they never want to hear his name again? Well, I wouldn't say they're fanatical, but it's certainly enhanced their interest. Now they feel it's something they really know about, and they're right – they really do. Despite the camera-clicking sightseers, you get a really intimate sense of Mozart here – much more intimate, in a way, than someone who knows his music inside out but has never been.
When we got back home to London, Edward and Thea slumped down in front of the telly. But instead of switching on Cbeebies, as usual, I put on an old video of Ingmar Bergman's Magic Flute, and went to make their tea. When I came back in half an hour later, they were still watching, both enthralled.
Make my child a Mozart lover: Day one
Make my child a Mozart lover: Day two
Make my child a Mozart lover: Day three
Make my child a Mozart lover: Day four
