The origin of this trip dates back to my childhood. The Sound of Music was one of those movies that would be shown once a year, like The Wizard of Oz. Each year we would watch the movie and my Mom would comment on how pretty the Alps were and how much she would like to see them. Our vacations when I was young took my family to the Rockies many times for backpacking and camping. The mountains were universally enjoyed and an appreciation of the grandeur of nature was instilled in all of the Malake children.
As a grown man I have had the fortune to travel abroad. I glimpsed the Alps from afar during a drive from France to Italy and have flown over them when going from Barcelona to Zurich. Each time I thought of my Mother and her love of the mountains and desire to see the Alps. Finally, last year Rhonda and I proposed the idea of leading my parents on their first European vacation. We are somewhat experienced travelers and we felt that we could take them under our wing and show them the mountains they had only seen in movies and pictures.
The trip would be a little bit of a challenge for all of us. Rhonda and I speak no German, and we would be heading to Switzerland, Austria and Germany. I took it upon myself to learn a little rudimentary German. Although we weren’t too worried based on conversations we had had at different times with Germans we had met during our travels and their statement that English was readily spoken by many where we would be going. For my parents there was a little more trepidation. Getting passports was easy compared to not being in control in a land where English is not the first language. The planning was all mine to do as I found places to stay, bought train tickets and booked a few activities. Like most of my trips I purposely left a lot of free time to wander and soak up the atmosphere of the land we were going to be visiting.
Anticipation grew as 2017 arrived and tickets were bought and reservations made. The closer the summer came the more we all got excited. A couple of weeks before the trip the foreign currency ordered from the bank arrived and everything was in place. Mom and Dad drove from Davenport, Iowa to Richmond, Virginia over the course of two days. Last minutes items were checked and then everything was ready.
Day 1 – July 25th (The Friendly Skies)
We have the morning to pack and get our things together. We are flying out of Washington Dulles and need to leave town by noon. Our flight is not until 17:40, but we are not sure what the traffic around Washington, D.C. will be like. We are all in agreement that it is better to get to the airport early and wait than be in a rush. All of the bags get packed and we are on the road on time. The drive to Dulles is fairly easy with no really bad traffic and takes us about two and a half hours. The parking ramp is surprisingly full, but we find a space and take the long walk to the terminal with our bags in tow. This scene will be repeated many times over the coming days; the four of us walking in a row, each pulling their suitcase behind them.
I have never been to Washington Dulles before. The main terminal has a nice, airy feel to it. The architecture is dated, but attractive. It is one wide open building with sweeping lines that make you want to fly. The architect did his job back in the sixties. It puts me in mind of the movie Catch Me if You Can, which features the jet age coming into its own when travel by air was still somewhat exotic and romantic. Now air travel is big business and has lost almost all of its charm. Seeing a grand old structure like this terminal that is dedicated to lifting the spirit makes me smile and long for some of the old charm.
We get our bags checked and head towards our gate. It is located in a terminal apart from the main terminal we are in. There is no tram or underground walkway here in Dulles. Instead you are loaded into shuttles, the like of which I haven’t seen before. They are four wheeled vehicles that have a door at either end and “dock” with a door in the building. We walk onto the shuttle which looks like a section of airplane fuselage with two dorsal fins. After the doors close and the ramps retract the vehicle settles on its wheels and begins to move. We see other shuttles coursing their way around the airfield. The two protrusions from the roof may house exhaust, or just provide a way to make the shuttles more visible while driving behind other objects. It is amusing to see these ungainly looking vehicles tooling around with their human cargo. We arrive at the remote terminal and dock. Despite its odd look, the shuttle does its job well and we are soon by our departure gate.
At the gate we learn the flight is delayed in leaving. The good news is that there is a favorable tailwind and we will arrive almost an hour early in Zurich. We stroll the terminal just to stretch our legs. It will be a long flight and we take advantage of the chance to walk. As we go along Rhonda notices a pet relief room. With the explosion of service animals these days this doesn’t surprise us. What is funny is the facility itself. The room is carpeted with Astroturf and there is a plastic fire hydrant in the middle. This makes us all laugh. After the walk we still have some time to kill at the gate and I ask my Mom about her last flight. She can recount all of the flights she has been on in her life, which isn’t too many. This helps remind me that many of the things I take for granted while traveling will be unfamiliar to my parents.
We are flying a Swiss Air flight being operated by United. That means we are flying United. While I am not fond of United as an international carrier, the fare savings was attractive enough for us to go with them. The flight is nearly full, as most every flight I seem to take nowadays is. Unfortunately we couldn’t get our seats rearranged, so there are three of us in one row of the middle section with the fourth person in the aisle seat just adjacent. Rhonda volunteers to sit with the stranger and I sit with my Mom and Dad in the middle three seats. We get settled in for the long haul ahead.
The flight is easy enough. The meal is passable and at least the wine is complementary here on United. Mom and I read while Dad and Rhonda watch movies. We all try to sleep after dinner, which doesn’t work too well. It never does on airplanes. They are just not comfortable enough to get good rest on. We all manage to doze to some degree, except for my Mom, who doesn’t get any sleep. I see a kid playing Ken Ken on his entertainment console in the next row up and try the game myself. I enjoy it and show my Dad where to find it on his menu. It is related to Sudoku and was created by a Japanese math teacher. He takes to it and whiles away the last couple of hours of the flight playing. We are all a little blurry eyed as the wheels touch ground in Zurich, Switzerland.
Day 2 – July 26th (Zurich to Salzburg)
The flight does indeed arrive an hour early at a little after seven in the morning. Given the early hour immigration and customs are a breeze, though Mom and Dad get behind a guy in immigration that gets fingerprinted and asked a lot of questions. Mom also gets an introduction to eastern culture when an Asian lady behind her in line stands too close and Mom has to give her a scathing look to get her to backup. Soon we have our big bags in hand. The next leg of the journey is from the flughafen (airport) to the hauptbahnhof (main train station) by rail. We follow the signs leading outside and find a terminal at which you can buy tickets for the commuter train that runs downtown. A local girl sees us at the terminal and helps us through the process of getting the four tickets purchased. We thank her and then head down to the tracks. Now that we have a ticket with a platform on it we can locate the track that is the express run downtown. We haul our bags on board and take the ten minute ride into the city proper.
We arrive at the main station in Zurich on one of the street level platforms that lead right into the old terminal. It is a lovely old building that is large and cavernous. We can see outside through the tall, arched doorways and it is raining. Rhonda and I have brought a couple of large umbrellas that can shelter two people each, but with the bags in tow exploring the city nearby is not a possibility. We have reserved seats on the Railjet train to Salzburg. The train will not depart until 12:40, and it is not even nine o’clock yet, so we have a lot of time to kill. The track will not be announced until about noon. Given that United only provided a dab of yoghurt on the way in, we decide to see what can be done about breakfast. We explore the different restaurants that are open in the terminal and settle on Bistro Atrio. The menu lists some European style breakfast choices and we go in.
The restaurant is lovely. The high ceilings are painted beautifully and the whole place has an old world feel to it. Rhonda and I each opt for the Boun Giorno Atrio which is coffee with bread or a croissant and a couple of additional items from the buffet. The buffet has cheeses, meats and baked goods, which is typical for the region. Mom and Dad share a couple of pastries. Rhonda has a surprise chocolate pastry and some cheese while I have some nice preserves on hearty bread and a croissant and another pastry with sweet ricotta. Everything is tasty and we pass the time nicely. The restaurant is a pizzeria and bar during non-breakfast times and I notice a large, old meat slicer in the prep area. The thing is a red colored beast that is all operated by hand, eschewing any motor. I would love to see it in operation. Breakfast is pricey, but this is Zurich. It seems everything in Zurich is pricey, let alone at the train station. We sit for a little while, but eventually ask for the check and walk back out into the terminal.
The eastern half of the terminal is taken up with a market that is getting set up. There are stalls with meats, cheeses, baked goods, dried fruit, nougats, and flowers. The vendors are still setting up and the area is roped off. We walk on and gaze outside at the city for a while. The rain is still coming down and the clouds are low. Not much can be seen. We are looking for a place to sit and take the escalators down a level or two. We find some massage chairs that are unoccupied and sit there. Rhonda actually plugs in the three Swiss Francs required and enjoys a ten minute massage as given by the rollers embedded in the chair. She says it feels pretty good. The public restrooms in the station cost money, as expected. They are called McClean and are located on the same level as the chairs we are in. I walk down there with Dad to check out the operation. It costs two Swiss Francs to gain entry to the facilities. Each stall is its own closet with lights outside the door. A green light indicates the stall is ready for use. Red means it is in use, while yellow means it is waiting to be cleaned by the attendant. The men do have a 1,50 CHF option for urinals in a separate section. You pay your money at a gate that looks like a subway turnstile without the turnstile. You drop your coins in a slot and then the glass door splits open to allow you access. There is even a change machine nearby in case all you have are bills. This is the most elaborate and expensive public restroom we will see on the trip.
After the market upstairs is open we take turns watching the bags as Mom and Dad and then Rhonda and I go up to explore. Mom and Dad get some dried fruit on their first trip. Rhonda and I head upstairs to the market looking for cheese. We stroll around the stalls and as we approach the second cheese stall a young Italian man offers us a sample of Parmigiano Reggiano. The sample is nice and the price pretty good. He wants to sell us a large wedge of it but we describe a smaller amount which he cuts off the wedge and wraps for us. We try a couple of more samples while chatting and settle on a good goat cheese. Now that we have 100 grams of two different cheeses, it is time for something to go with it. The right hand side of his stall has some cured meats and we try a salami. It is nice but a little too fatty. I ask about a dark colored salami and try it out. It is very good and I ask what it is. Now the fun begins. He can’t think of the English word for the animal that supplies the meat. He yells down to the next stall and asked the fellow there and comes up with nothing. He then puts his splayed hands up to his head like antlers. He looks like Robin Williams pretending to be a moose, which is what we offer. He says no and then hails the fellow across the aisle and asks. Still no luck. Then he realizes the creature is depicted on the wrapper and points it out. It is deer salami. While this is going on the helper in the stall goes to offer some cheese to a couple walking by. The man we have being working with shushes him and motions to not offer the sample. He then explains to us that several people come by just for samples and never buy. We are good customers and add a little deer salami to our provender for the train, which the vendor kindly slices up for us.
We walk to the next aisle over to find some bread. The older gent there has baguettes of which we get half of one. While he slices the bread for us we notice a decidedly overcooked looking crescent. The baker explains in halting English that he had problems with the batch. They taste good, but look bad. The problem has something to do with the type of flour and the baking time. He tosses one in the bag for us along with a slice of hearty looking bread with some dried fruit in it. We walk around the rest of the market, but we know we have enough for our immediate needs. Returning to my parents we ask if they had seen the nougat. We know my Dad likes it. Rhonda takes them back upstairs to show them the stall in question. There are large blocks of nougat of all types on display. Dad opts for a chocolate coconut variety and gets a Texas toast sized slice. Our morning marketing done we find a table in a small picnic area on the lower level. There are picnic tables with a large awning overhead and fake stone walls surround them. The spot is near some restaurants and is setup to look like and outside picnic area. The floor has grass and flowers printed on it. We occupy a table a play some cribbage to pass the time. Eventually our track is assigned and we walk up to the platform.
The train that will take us to Salzburg is called the Spirit of Budapest. We find our wagon easily and also our seats. The challenge is figuring out what to do with the big bags. There is no obvious baggage storage area. Taking a cue from another traveler in our car we put them all on the baggage shelf above the seats. They are a little large for the space, but it works. We are in the first class quiet car adjacent to the business class area. I booked this area so we would have four reserved seats around a table. Interestingly there is a small digital display next to the seat number above our heads and it is displaying our embarkation and debarkation points. The train ride is scheduled for five and a half hours. An additional half hour is being added due to some track work east of Innsbruck. Thus we have six hours on the train to look forward to. The seats are comfortable and the ride smooth. There is no click clack that is synonymous with typical trains in the States. On straight stretches of rail the ride is silent and you wonder if the train has stopped. The engines are electric and the sections of rail have been welded together and the top and side ground even and burnished to effectively make one long run of rail. We see one of these joints later in the journey while stopped in a station. The gentle ride allows us all to nap at various times during the trip. The sleep is welcome.
Unfortunately the day is rainy and overcast. The ride along the lakes Zurichsee, Obersee and Walensee is scenic, but the mountains are shrouded in clouds. We see hints of a gorgeous landscape along Walensee and it has us excited for what lies ahead. There are many waterfalls cascading down the steep slopes into the lakes and rivers we run along. As we pass through the Innsbruck area the closest mountains are visible, but everything else is hidden. Fortunately we will be spending some time in the area later in the week. The miles roll under the wheels and time passes. A waitress comes by and takes orders for a couple across the aisle from us. Later Mom and Dad along with Rhonda order a couple of items from her. I just have a little of the cheese and salami. The station stops are few and quick. There are screens at the head of the cabin space and hung from the ceiling that show the next few stations coming up and the time we will arrive at each. Salzburg appears on the list and moves up as we continue east, the arrival time now being a bit after six. The screen also displays our current speed. East of Innsbruck the train travels through a very long tunnel. During this stretch the engineer opens it up and we can see we are going 220 kilometers per hour, or 132mph. Eventually Salzburg is the next stop and we start getting our things together. We get ourselves off of the train in good order and look for the taxi stand.
The day in Salzburg is still overcast with rain coming and going. We are staying at the Haus Wartenberg, which is a pension, or bed and breakfast. It is located on the other side of the River Salzach, about a mile and a quarter away. We find a taxi outside of the station that can handle all four of us and our bags. Soon we are passing through the streets of Salzburg. The journey is hampered by traffic and construction as we are passing through the newer part of town. The neighborhoods get older as we get closer. There is still a mix of old and new buildings and we are in one of the old ones. Haus Wartenberg is about 350 years old. It hasn’t been a hotel that whole time, but more on that later. The taxi is paid and we take our bags in through the walled and gated front yard which contains an eclectic mix of items. Eclecticism more or less defines Haus Wartenberg, which is where it gets its charm. The owner greets us and helps us upstairs to get checked in. Haus Wartenberg is also a restaurant, which is located on the first floor along with some other common areas. The big room on the main floor is getting setup for Tango night. There will be music, lessons and dancing. The reception desk and the rooms for the pension are all on the second floor.
Our rooms are across the hall from each other near the top of a long stairway, numbers three and eight. There are two sets of stairs. The one we just came up from the front door has a turn and steps that are what we would consider a normal height. The second stairway, by our rooms, is long and straight with a very shallow step height. It makes it very easy to ascend and puts me in mind of the staircase in Montpelier that James Madison built for his wife Dolley, who didn’t like stairs because she had trouble getting up them. After getting our keys we head to the rooms. The locks are manual and the door immense. They are at least three inches thick solid wood, but look of newer construction. Being so old the house has very thick walls, so the doors seem appropriate. As we will find later, the thick walls and doors will make the rooms very quiet as we will here no noise from the small restaurant or Tango festivities. The rooms are large and look comfy. There are no closets, only armoires. The one in our room is definitely an antique and has an interesting little catch that holds the second door in place which takes us a little bit to figure out. Rhonda finally sees a ring that needs to be pulled to get the door to open. We all get settled in our rooms before turning our attention to what to do for dinner.
Taking up our umbrellas just in case, we inquire with the owner about nearby restaurants. He describes four that are all within a few blocks. We decide to go for the traditional Austrian faire that is not the expensive option he told us about. The evening is cool and the walk pleasant. We arrive at Restaurant 28 quickly. There is a small bar with a few tables, then an adjoining room with a dozen more tables. The waitress is very friendly and helpful. She helps Rhonda and I select a bottle of Austrian wine from the Burgenland region of Austria. The white wine is very good. I imagine, like Mexico, Austria produces some very nice wines, but their production is so small they can’t effectively export, which is why we never see them in the States. Dishes are shared since it is late and we did snack on the train. Mom and Dad have a pork schnitzel that is a wonderful introduction for them to Austrian cuisine. Rhonda and I have a dish of local mushrooms in a cream sauce with dumplings. The dumplings have been cooked as balls, then sliced and fried. The mushrooms are fabulous. A couple of deserts are ordered to share around the table. The first is an apricot dumpling, and the second a blueberry pancake. We misunderstood when ordering thinking there would be blueberries on a small type of pancake. What we find is that the pancake is actually made from the blueberries themselves. Both are tasty and a good finish to the meal.
The sun is gone and there is just a glow on the horizon as we make our way back to Haus Wartenberg. When we get back Mom and Dad decide to call it a night. Rhonda and I want to sit for a bit and have a seat in the main restaurant area. There are only five tables on two sides of the room and a tiny bar. There is a continuous bench running along two of the walls that provides half of the seating for the five tables. There is another small room with six more tables across the hall. Apparently the restaurant is a small operation. There are a few people in attendance. We approach a genial fellow named Anoush who seems to be the waiter/bartender. We are looking for a nightcap and he helps us out. He has a grappa that Rhonda tastes and enjoys and I inquire about schnapps. There are a half dozen bottles, some of which he is not sure about. Anoush is Iranian in origin and has lived and worked in several countries in his adult life. There is one schnapps I ask about, but he is not sure of the English word for the main ingredient. He gives me a small taste and I quite like it. The taste is familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it. I ask for a pour and Rhonda and I have a seat. The glasses Anoush has served our cordials in are small, stemmed and adorable. As introductions are being made in the room a voice pipes up and says “Hazelnut.” One of the employees, who is sitting by the door to the kitchen has looked up the translation for the flavor of my schnapps. The hazelnut schnapps is delightful and lightly sweet, unlike the schnapps that we see in the States that are like syrup.
Conversation in the room is lively and engaging. There is a couple from California in the corner. The woman of the pair had stayed in this house as a youth when it used to host exchange students before its days as a proper B&B and restaurant. Next to us is a young family from Paris. The only child is a girl that looks to be just getting into middle school. There is also, of course, Anoush, who seems to emcee the evening and keep things going. Topics range from cuisine and spirits, to travel and language. For a while I question the Parisians about their city and the things I shouldn’t miss upon a return visit. Before we know it we have gone through a couple drinks as the time whiles away. The effects of the long two days of travel creep back into our bones and we decide to get some sleep. We pay Anoush a paltry twelve euro for the two drinks apiece and say goodnight to the company.
Day 3 – July 27th (Salzburg)
Today we have the first of three structured tours we are taking during this trip. It is The Sound of Music day. We have to be at Mirabellplatz to check-in at nine o’clock. We are up a little after seven and downstairs for breakfast at about seven-thirty. Breakfast is provided in the same room Rhonda and I were in last night. The tables are all set and breakfast is spread out on the small bar. There is the usual European fair. Meats, cheeses, pastries, a couple of cereals and muesli, fruits, toast and jams. The lady acting as hostess and making sure folks have what they need speaks no English. Interactions are stilted and humorous. All are fed and we look forward to the day ahead.
Mirabellplatz is a main square in the older part of the city on the other side of the river from where we are. It sits between St. Andrew’s Church and the Mirabell Palace, thus the name. The walk is about a mile through the oldest part of Salzburg. We opt to take the walk as the morning is bright and lovely. Mönchsberg is one of the five mountains of Salzburg. It is a forest capped plateau, roughly hourglass shaped, that the old medieval fortress sits upon and looks down into old Salzburg. There is a tunnel that runs through the plateau which we have to pass through. Haus Wartenberg sits to the west of the plateau, old Salzburg lies to the east sandwiched between the plateau and the river. Our destination is on the east side of the river. The route is easy, but I carry a map in my back pocket just in case. We walk the block to Neutorstraße, the main road that passes under the mountain. As we approach the cliff face where the road carves its way through the mountain we see that there is an adjacent pedestrian tunnel. The tunnel slopes down as we pass through until we finally emerge into old Salzburg. This is the medieval part of town I really want to explore. That will have to wait until this afternoon. For now I consult my map so we can cut the quickest path to the footbridge over the river. The river is running high and fast due to all of the rain over the last few days. The views from the bridge are lovely. We see that there are love locks on the bridge. It seems the practice of placing a lock on the bridge and tossing the key into the river has made its way here. We cross to the eastern bank and continue on towards Mirabellplatz. A few block along we see a bus across the street with a Sound of Music Tour mural on the side and know we have arrived.
We show our tickets to the tour guide, Peter, and board the bus. There are seats towards the back that we occupy so we are all together. The bus is near capacity when we pull away from the curb. Peter introduces Niko, the driver and starts to describe the agenda for the day. The pace and manner of speaking that Peter has reminds both Rhonda and I of Jon Lovitz. Peter is entertaining, even if some of his jokes are old and dusty. He delivers them enthusiasm and always elicits laughs and groans alike. The guests on the tour are a mix of ages and nationalities. Most are probably in their forties and up and there are no young children. As the tour gets going Peter points out some filming locations we pass but can’t stop at because of traffic. One is Frohnburg Palace, which was used for the front of the von Trapp home. The road that passes directly in front is restricted to horse and pedestrian traffic. We have to be content viewing from across a field as we drive, or coming back and taking a walk. He doesn’t limit his information to the movie, but also tells some of the history and significance of the major sites we pass by. It is very informative. The first stop is near a man-made lake where we take a short walk around the end of it. Where the group stops affords us a view of Leopold Palace, which was used as the backyard on the von Trapp home in the movie. It is the one with the view over the lake to Untersberg, the mountain that dominates the southern horizon. Peter tells the group stories about the filming, the palace and the challenges therein before the group proceeds back to the bus.
Once aboard we continue on to Hellbrunn Palace. We are going there to visit the gazebo that playing prominently in two musical numbers in the movie. The gazebo used to be at Leopold Palace, but was moved because the residents at the palace didn’t like all of the tourists coming into their yard. Hellbrunn Palace was built in the early 1600s by Prince Archbishop Sittikus and has the trick fountains which the Prince used to dampen his guests to his own amusement. The gazebo has been moved to the gardens that adjoin the palace. We have another nice stroll accompanied by a story or two from Peter. The bus next stop will be Mondsee, which is about forty-five minutes away. Most people avail themselves of the portable restrooms setup nearby. There are a couple of amusing pictorial signs on them indicating that people should not pee in the sink nor should they wash their clothes in the sink. Niko has setup a little table that he is selling drinks from. Rhonda and I get a couple of sodas and Niko sees that I have quite a few of coins in my pocket. He offers to change them for a bill. I am a little short of five euros, but he makes the exchange anyway. It gives him smaller denominations to make change with and lightens my pocket, so we both make out. Peter asks everyone to do a neighbor check and we find there is one couple still missing. Peter scares them up as Niko gets things ready to go. Once onboard we are off to the lake and mountain district.
The bus passes back through the east side of Salzburg as we pick up a road that will take us east. During this we take a side road and do a slow turn through a traffic circle that passes close under Nonnberg Abbey where the real Maria spent two years of her life before getting married into the von Trapp family. After leaving Salzburg the scenery becomes quite picturesque as we pass by Lake Fuschl. The small town and large mountain both nestled against the lake makes for a pretty scene. As we approach Lake Wolfgang Niko pulls the bus over at an overlook. This vista deserves the attention. The lake fills the valley between the imposing peaks. The villages of St.Gilgen and Furberg sit on the near end, below us where the land is sloped, but not too steep. The sun is high and the mountains on the far end are hazy in the distance. Their jagged tops fading into the distance the further up the lake you look. I can see why Maria wanted to sing music to the hills while traipsing in a meadow. This is remarkable. Peter told us prior to the stop about a hotel that sits on the top of Schafberg Mountain, which is the tall peak close on the left. We can see the structure sitting up there and wonder what the view is like from that height where all the lakes in the district would be visible. Not that we feel slighted for what is offered us at this moment. No one wants to go as we are urged back on the bus to continue on to Mondsee.
Our exploration of the lake district of upper Austria continues as we travel a little north to Mondsee, or Moon Lake. The views continue to marvel as we drive along the south side of the lake and approach the town that shares a name with the lake. The bus gets parked in a large lot down by the lake and everyone debarks. While there is a little tram you can ride to the heart of town, most people opt to follow Peter as he leads a group on the short walk. The town is small and quaint, set in a lovely place. Dominating the middle of town is the Collegiate Church of St. Michael. This is the church where the wedding scene in The Sound of Music was filmed. After a brief talk, Peter puts everyone at liberty for a little over an hour. We explore the town and do a little shopping during which Rhonda and I purchase a lacy table runner that is adorned with edelweiss for our dining room table. The four of us decide to have a snack and occupy a table on the square at Braun. It is here that Mom and Dad discover that they do not like mineral water. We also have our first encounter with the sweat bees, or vespas, which are out in force during these warm months. With our snack complete we take the walk back down to the lake and the bus. Another neighbor check is done and we are off, back to Salzburg. Niko takes the more expedient route along the expressway that runs near Mondsee and heads into the city. During the drive Peter plays portions of a documentary of The Sound of Music and some of the soundtrack as well. He leads a couple of sing-alongs which a few of us participate in. We arrive back at Mirabellplatz in the early afternoon with plenty of time left to explore. We say our goodbyes and take off on our own.
We decide to continue the Sound of Music theme and explore the Mirabell gardens that are close by. This is the height of summer and the gardens are in full bloom. I recognize some of the locations used in the movie during the Do-Re-Mi scene. The gardens are well manicured. White stone paths break the gardens into geometric shapes and everything is low to the ground. Red and yellow flowers swirl in patterns across the deep green of the rectangles of close cut grass. Statues surround one end while steps are on the other. The pegasus fountain sits in the center and looks very much at home there. The gardens are essentially a back yard for the Mirabell Palace. We climb the steps and take the long view back across the grounds. It would be a nice place for a picnic if there were there a lot fewer people. But it is summer and crowds are to be expected. Walking west from the gardens in a couple of blocks we arrive back at the River Salzach. We are at a more northerly footbridge across the river than the one we crossed this morning. The views of the city with the mountains both near and far creating a backdrop are quite lovely. I am glad we have come this way. We complete the crossing and stroll along the bank towards the old part of town. A grassy bank slopes down to the swollen and swift river from the sidewalk. Trees shade the walkway and the road and single strip of buildings are huddled under the cliff face of Mönchsberg to our right. The buildings are right up against the rock, as if they sprouted from it. The cliff slowly diverges from the river as we walk, pulling away to the right as the river gently curves to the left. Much further on the river turns back to the right, meeting the mountain as it comes back to the left. Filling the almond shaped area between the mountain and the river is the oldest part of Salzburg.
We arrive at the second footbridge, which we crossed this morning. We find a musician there, playing to the passersby, hoping to received tips and CD sales. His instrument is unlike any I have ever seen. It looks like a large gourd that has been hollowed out and then had a skin stretched over one side that has been cut off so it resembles an odd lute body. The strings and the top resembled a harp, which is how he is playing the thing. It has a pleasant sound, but is more interesting for itself than anything else. Mozart’s birthplace is nearby and we wander that way to see if we can find it. The streets are mostly limited to pedestrian traffic, though the occasional car does come by on some of them. They are narrow and close, like any medieval aged town. Most of the shops on the larger ways have a sign hanging perpendicular to the wall out over the street. Some have a simple name wrought in fanciful metal swirls. Others depict the product that can be obtained inside, like a pretzel hanging above a bakery. Even the McDonald’s conforms and has an elaborate black metal wreath with a small arched “M” in the middle. They vary in character, but all lend to the charm and atmosphere of the area. There are narrow passages that cut through the building like tiny alleyways connecting the larger streets. We idly pop into a few shops on our stroll down Getreidegasse, one of the main ways. We find the birthplace of Mozart without issue. Shortly after that Mom and Dad decide to walk back to the B&B for a rest. Rhonda and I walk them to where they can see the tunnel and make sure they are clear on the directions. We part knowing we will be back together for dinner.
As Rhonda and I dive back into the streets of old Salzburg we pass through a narrow street on which we find a pastry shop our waitress told us about the previous evening. She had also told us about a chocolate shop named Berger. She had said to ask anyone and they would know where it is. With this in mind we decide to search. Our first few inquiries with employees in the shops we browse come up with nothing. I decide to try and lookup the address on my phone. The map is very slow to load, to the point it doesn’t load. Thus armed with an address and vague notion of where it is we direct our wanderings that way. The general direction is southeast, towards the fortress. Close to Mozartplatz and his statue we pass a café with outdoor seating and decide to have something to quench our thirst. I enjoy an Austrian beer and Rhonda an Austrian wine. Some light rain begins to fall as we sit and people watch. Eventually we decide to pop up our umbrella and continue our search. We do eventually find Berger after having passed it by. It is easy to miss as it sits on a corner and has only one small sign in fancy script. The shop has some delectable looking truffles and chocolates in their case. We opt to simply purchase some handmade bars. One with espresso in it and another with coconut. We also buy some chocolate for Mom and Dad. As we pay we are offered a sample and Rhonda selects a champagne and rose confection from the case. It is unusual and tasty.
At this point we are close by the fortress, which sits above us on the mountain. We decide to wander back close by the cliff, towards the tunnel. As we go we come across Kapitelplatz, or Chapter Square. It is a large square next to the Salzburg Cathedral. The square has a large theater setup in it with a huge screen over the stage like a jumbotron. There is a recording of a performance that took place on this stage playing on the screen. Also in the square are several stalls selling various goods, and a jumbo chess set next to a huge golden sphere with a man standing on top. I have no idea what the statue is about, but the man standing on the eight foot tall sphere looks to be just an ordinary fellow in generic 20th century attire. There are some public restroom in the corner near the cathedral which we both decide to use. The sign next to the men’s room door is a simple plaque with a dapper gent from what looks like the 50s on it. While I am inside Rhonda spies a clergyman walking by dressed in a white cassock, black pea coat and sneakers, which is quite the eclectic mixture.
The rain has abated by now and we select a random archway in the southwest corner through which to continue our journey. It is not really random since it goes in the direction of the cliff. It brings us to a tiny square with a waterwheel which is powered by a stream running down from the mountain. As we continue right we come into St. Peter’s church and cemetery. The cemetery is amazing. A chapel dating from 1491 stands in the middle. There are catacombs tunneled into the cliff ahead of us, but we don’t enter those. Instead we wander around the graveyard and remark its unusual character. The plots are all small and set close to one another. They are framed in stone and within the space are flowers or other plants. There are flowers of all colors, though red seems to dominate. There are also some that are filled with ivy, ferns, or other ground cover. It looks more like an odd, well kept garden than a cemetery. Most of the markers are fancy ironwork poles that are capped with a sign that is sheltered by a small roof. Almost all have several names on them, making us wonder if they just stack them up. There are crypts behind fancy iron gates set in the walls that enclose the cemetery. A well stands in the middle of the walkway near the old chapel. There is a watering can on the stones so I imagine those that tend the graves can have easy access to water. The whole scene is quite unlike any cemetery I have seen before and we both find it fascinating.
We follow the path west and come out of the cemetery into the University area. We pass through a couple of squares and arrive at the road that runs back to the tunnel. Along this road is a lot of foot traffic and some cars. A large indoor theater and adjoining buildings stand between the road and the cliff. The Rock Riding School, which is the theater with all the stone arches where the music competition near the end of The Sound of Music takes place, is what lies inside. A roof has been built over the theater and it is now part of this large festival complex. There is a red carpet coming out of one big entryway where a couple of police stand. We talk with the officers and they explain it is the opening night of the festival and some political dignitaries have been here. We have been told the music festival will last for weeks with performances at the various theaters by groups from all over the world. As we continue on our way we notice men in tuxes and ladies in dresses heading the other direction, towards the theater. We arrive back at Haus Wartenberg and catch Mom and Dad up on our escapades. After a recap and chance to put aside our jackets and umbrella we all go downstairs to dinner.
Dinner is a tasty affair filled with Austrian cuisine. I try the Augustiner beer, which is brewed a couple of miles from where we are sitting. It is fresh and easy drinking. I am finding that the summer beers here are very flavorful and not hoppy at all, which is perfect for me. During dinner I ask the waiter about the original use of the house. He defers to the owner, Johannes Wachter, who comes to visit us while we are still at table. He is happy to recount the tale, at least what he knows of it. The house was built about 350 years ago as the residence of the master of the brick factory. It remained associated with the brick industry in one way or the other until the 1800s when the industry changed. The house then became the property of the church when Salzburg was an independent religious state. The owner’s grandmother bought the place in 1954 and went to work making it what it is today. The floor of the two dining rooms is tiled in the pieces of a dome from a church that was destroyed during World War II. His grandmother collected religious iconography and other items. She made a living teaching German and held her classes in the house. It is quite the tale and I am sure I am forgetting bits here and there. When our meal and talk are done we still have a couple of hours before we want to go to bed. I find Johannes and ask him if we can setup a table in the “tango” room so we can play cards. He says that the chimney room is already setup and we can use that.
I fetch the cribbage board and we look for the chimney room. We find Anoush, who is off tonight, talking to a friend in the second dining room. There is another room off of that which is our destination. The lights are on and a large dining table sits in the middle with several chairs around it. Rhonda, Dad and I sit down to our game while Mom kibitzes and browses the room. Anoush pops in to see if there is anything we want to drink. Rhonda and I both go for some hazelnut schnapps to sip as a digestive. Mom has no lack of material to look over. One wall is solid bookshelves. We see lots of German text books and then other literature of all types. Of course, everything is in German. On the wall with the fireplace are two portraits. One of an old woman who we guess is the grandmother we heard about earlier. The other is of a man in a German uniform from WWII. I recognize the rank insignia as gefreiter, which roughly equates to a lance corporal. We will ask Anoush later and he will confirm that the paintings are of the grandmother and grandfather. In the room is also a military footlocker from what looks like the 1800s. The name Wachter is on it along with a rank in German. Mom locates a German-English dictionary on the shelf and looks up the word. Apparently the owner was the equivalent of a colonel. There are some stories there to tell, I am sure. The rest of the room is a mixture of artifacts of all types from ages past. It is quite the display, and while the meanings behind most are only guesses to us, they still capture your attention and imagination. At one point Anoush comes in and offers Rhonda and I a shot of real Russian vodka, the stuff that doesn’t get exported. This is from the bottle he and his friend are sharing. He serves it with a lemon wedge. All four of us try the liquor. I find it extremely smooth, but pretty much flavorless. I guess it would be good for getting drunk fast. After a couple of games Mom and Dad retire. Rhonda and I stay up just a little longer talking with Anoush, but then turn in after a long, enjoyable day.
Day 4 – July 28th (Salzburg)
Breakfast is a little earlier today. We have another tour, but it leaves half an hour earlier than yesterday. At least we know where we are going and I recall the shortcuts through the old part of town. The selection for breakfast for Rhonda is limited. She is essentially having a meat and cheese sandwich again. She would like some mayonnaise and tries to communicate as much to our hostess. While trying to describe how mayonnaise is made her face lights up and Rhonda is hopeful. Unfortunately I am standing up at the bar when I see the lady bustle into the kitchen and approach the stove. I get the feeling she didn’t get the message. Shortly the energetic woman comes out with two eggs that are fried sunny side up. The whites are a little runny in the middle which is not good for Rhonda. She can’t even look at the plate. After a bit I take the plate from her and eat most of the eggs so the effort will be appreciated, even though mistaken. We wrap things up and decide to get going as we may be cutting it close.
We are off to Mirabellplatz again. We arrive close to the departure time. Walter, the tour guide, greets us and we say there are four of us. Rhonda then asks how to pronounce four in German. Walter then recites a rhyme, “Eins, zwei, drei, vier. Stick a finger in your ear.” which clarifies the issue with a chuckle. When we board the bus it is almost full and there are only two seats together. I sit with Dad in the back row. Rhonda sits up a ways next to a Belgian girl and Mom is on the aisle a couple of rows up from Dad and I. Hopefully we can get rearranged at the first stop and put some of the singles together. For the moment we are warm from the walk and need to cool off in a full bus. When the engine revs up and the air conditioning gets going things improve. The morning is partly sunny and Walter begins to speak as we get moving. He maintains a monologue as we cruise along, imparting a lot of good information and history. We are headed into Germany today, which is straight south of Salzburg. At least the small nub that juts into Austria and contains our destination is south. As we cross the border Walter tells us we can get out our passports and wave them, but that there is nobody at the border to see them. The highway we have been on parallels a fast moving river. The mountains around us have grown taller, more rugged and closer as we have traveled south. It has been a pleasant enough drive with some nice scenery. After about forty minutes we turn off the highway and begin heading up a very windy road into the hills. Walter tells us something about the complex we are headed to, Obersalzberg. He describes what existed during WWII and what remains today, which is only one building. Allied bombing runs had a lot to do with that. The location is significant to us today because that is where the ticket office and buses for Kehlsteinhaus are located.
The road up the mountain is narrow and steep. Special buses are maintained that make the journey at regular intervals. There are eight-eight of us on the tour so Walter has us gather by shuttle buses one and two, which we will fill. There are five buses that make the journey all at once, on a strict schedule. This is because the road has only one spot in the middle where it is wide enough for buses to pass each other and the ascending and descending convoys have to meet at that point. Walter takes care of the business of getting everyone cleared to board and we are at liberty for the moment to stretch our legs and make use of the restrooms. When the time comes the drivers come out of the building in a group like they are coming on stage. We load up and begin the ascent. As stated, the road is narrow and winding. It is four miles long and gains 2,300 feet on the way to the Eagle’s Nest parking area. While it has been resurfaced and shored up, this is the same road cut into the mountain when Kehlsteinhaus was constructed. Rhonda sits on the aisle and shrinks from the window. I, on the other hand, have my face plastered to the window to admire the view. At times the road is not visible out the window as we are so close to the edge and the mountain drops away at a severe declination. The views of the landscape get better and better the higher we go. I admire the deftness of the drivers. While they take this trip all day long, it is no easy feat. We arrive at a small parking area that provides space for the buses to unload passengers and turn around. We debark and head straight for the mouth of the tunnel.
Where we are going now is a step back in time. The keystone above the tunnel entrance has a stone shield with the year 1938 carved into it. The tunnel burrows 410 feet directly back into the mountain. It leads to a domed space with an elevator door. We queue on one side of a velvet rope and wait for the lift to arrive and disgorge its passengers. The elevator is the original. It is all brass and polished to a mirror finish. Hitler was claustrophobic and the brass made the space appear larger than it was. He would only ride with a maximum of six people in the elevator. We cram in a lot more than that, including the elevator operator. Instead of floors, the elevator displays meters. The top number is 124, which is how high we are going. The trip is made in about 46 second according to Rhonda’s timer when we descended later. Walter has instructed everyone to meet in Eva Braun’s tea room and has given directions on how to get there from the elevator. The place is not large and we find it with ease. Excitement and anticipation to explore has heightened when we get to the tea room and see the views out the window. After the next elevator load arrives we are soon all together. Walter gives some more information about the room we are in, the adjoining conference room and other interesting details and anecdotes about the building. For one, the building is only a conference center that was used to hold meetings and impress people. Hitler was afraid of heights and never spent the night here. In fact there are no bedrooms here and the kitchen was never used. He always stayed down the mountain in Obersalzberg. Walter puts everyone at liberty giving us a particular time to meet in the parking area outside of the tunnel.
The first thing we want to do is get outside. We backtrack through the conference room, stopping to admire the original red Carrara marble fireplace. The year 1938 appears again in the metal in the back of the firebox. There is evidence where some of the marble of the mantel has been chipped away. According to Walter these pieces were taken away as souvenirs by Allied soldiers when everything portable was gone. We find the outer door next to the elevator and step out onto the walkway. The path is stone with a stone wall and iron rail. It clings to the side of the building as it makes it way to the precipice at the front, below the conference room. If you keep following this path it will shortly turn to dirt and take you all the way down the mountain to Obersalzberg. Looking out rather than down the view is astonishing. There is a mix of clouds and blue sky above us. There are also clouds below us. Many sit in small clumps on the sides of mountains and in valleys like stubborn children that have not gotten out of bed and risen to the sky yet. One such is a little to our right. We can watch the cloud undulate as it creeps up the slope before us. The bare peaks of the mountains that surround the wide valley below seem to be one continuous, jagged line. As you move more summits can be descried, extending in ranks one beyond the next. The forest dominates the valley adding its dark green as a stark backdrop to the clouds that linger there. Multiple large patches of sun pass through the scene lighting cloud, stone, forest and meadow and make them pop out from their neighbors. It is like the sun is attempting to warm the valley and has to chase the clouds that have settled there back into the sky. It is just another episode in the age old conflict between light and dark, hot and cold. I am glad to have the clouds at play because they lend perspective to the scene and make you appreciate how vast the vista before you is. As we admire the views and the flowers the playful cloud has crept all the way up to our path and is now covering us in mist and sprinkling us with rain. We capitulate and walk back inside to see what we can see.
We pass back through the conference and tea room and arrive at a hall that has large windows looking to the south and leads outside again towards the back of the house. Along this hall are many pictures with accompanying text that highlight the construction and life of Kehlsteinhaus. We look these over as our antagonist cloud passes on to the east and allows the sun to shine on us again. Kehlsteinhaus does not sit at the highest point of this mountain. There is a trail a couple of hundred yards long that leads to the top of Kehlstein, the mountain we are on. The trail has an easy slope, but I am the only one that walks on beyond the beer garden at the back of the house. Yes, there is a modern restaurant here in Kehlsteinhaus. I do not follow the trail all the way to the summit. I go far enough to get above the house and look around. I am running out of adjectives. The views are a wonder, but I see another cloud coming up the northern side of the mountain. The northern slope is shrouded in mist and the southern slop is clear. The summit is keeping opposing forces from fighting. I rejoin Mom, Dad and Rhonda and we see the time has come for us to descend. Our hour has been enough to admire and appreciate the majesty of the Alps. While we could spend more time, the cloud coming up the slope is chasing us off because it knows it is time to go. We make it back down the elevator and to the parking area in plenty of time. As we wait to board the bus Rhonda notices the street sign at the head of the road down. There is a normal European speed limit sign, but also another which is much more amusing. It is a red circle with a drawing of a small snail in the middle. I don’t think these drivers have to be reminded to go slow.
When we get back down to the parking area with our tour bus in it we can see that Keinstein is now completely covered in cloud. Our timing was perfect. On the ride down to the valley and to the town of Berchtesgaden Walter imparts some information I find heartening. After WWII the Allies were going to dynamite Kehlsteinhaus and erase another of the Third Reich’s symbols. The lead politician in Berchtesgaden persuaded them not to do it. The building and surrounding area was eventually turned over to the state of Bavaria in the sixties. The trust that manages the maintenance of the building, roads and such donates any profit to charitous organizations. That is a nice bookend to how this place started out. The town of Berchtesgaden has a quaint town center with many of the buildings’ facades painted with luftlmalerei. These are very colorful painting of scenes from everyday life, mythology, religion, or other embellishments to the architecture like trompe l’oeil. We decide to lunch at the restaurant in the Hotel Edelweiss. We sit at a table outside on the street. I have the best beer I have had on this trip, which is a German wheat beer made by Franziskaner. I pair that with the white sausages Walter recommended. The sausages come in a small tureen filled with the water the sausage were boiled in which the two sausages are floating. There is a pretzel and sweet mustard on the plate too. This is a very German meal for my first meal in the country. Rhonda enjoys some cheese spaetzle and Mom and Dad share a very long bratwurst with sauerkraut. It is an excellent meal and the only bad part are the bothersome bees that come and go. After lunch we pop our heads into a couple of shops and browse before walking back to the bus. On the drive back to Salzburg the rain begins to fall in earnest. We stop at the entrance to a salt mine to drop off a few people that have included that visit on their tour.
The rain has mostly abated by the time we reach Salzburg and Mirabellplatz. It will sprinkle off and on for a while yet, but we have our umbrellas handy. Rhonda and I want to show Mom and Dad the cemetery we found so we direct our wanderings that way. We poke around a couple of shops, including a toy store. I am amused by the alternate titles to some of the games I know and others that I am wholly unfamiliar with, but are very funny. One example is a child’s game titled “Gack, Gack!” The subtitle is “Das Explosive Huhnerspeil”. The box art shows a rather distressed hen launching an egg from her hindquarters. I can only imagine what the objective of the game is. It is these types of small observances that I find so enjoyable about foreign travel. Contrast laughing at a silly child’s game box with just having been viewing the magnificence of the Alps from Kehlsteinhaus only a couple of hours ago. Now we are continuing on to a beautiful cemetery that dates back to the 1400s. The variety of life’s experiences is what makes it worth living and enjoying. It is also why I enjoy travel so much.
On the way to the cemetery we pass through Residenzplatz. It is on the opposite side of the Salzburg Cathedral from where Rhonda and I were yesterday when we saw the outdoor theater. There is a massive fountain in the middle of the square with four aquatic horses spraying water from their nostrils and mouths into the basin. They point in each direction of the compass from a large mound that rises from the center. On top of this are brawny men holding a six foot wide bowl. On top of that are a couple of fish holding up a smaller bowl with their tails. On top of that stands another person holding the fountain that jets into the sky. This is quite the impressive display. Near at hand are a row of carriages with their attendant horses. The team on the end has tails that trail all the way to the ground within which a long braid can be seen. They must be the stylish horses and the envy of their peers. We pass into the Cathedral square in front of the church. There is another outdoor theater setup here. While admiring the sculptures on the front of the church the bells begin to chime at three o’clock. Our smiles widen at the sound. These are real bells, not recordings or electronic simulations. The deep reverberations of the largest bells can be felt in your bones. While there is no structure or tune in the peals, the music of the various bells all sounding at once is magical. After the last of the vibrations have died away we continue to wander. Eventually we arrive where we want to be. Mom enjoys the cemetery as much as Rhonda and I had the previous day and we spend a fair amount of time exploring. After the visit both Mom and Dad decide to walk back to the B&B. Rhonda and I get them on the right path and then continue on our own back into old Salzburg.
We pass by a wine and liquor shop and stop in. We find the hazelnut schnapps we have been drinking in the B&B and purchase a bottle to take home. We get some Mozart chocolates that we have seen displayed and advertised all over the city. I am not sure of the significance, but we will give them a try. Finding ourselves in the Old Market we decide to have a sit. The Old Market is a large square wherein stands the Forianibrunnen, which is a fountain dating from 1488. There is an outdoor café in the middle of the square and we take a table on the outside edge. Beer and wine are ordered and we sit and enjoy one of our favorite pastimes, people watching. We notice a lot of people in traditional dress which we think is unusual, but we will learn later is rather common. At one point small girl toddles along with her parents and the family dog. She insists on being allowed to walk the dog and her Mom gives her the leash. The dog is as tall as she is and probably outweighs her by two to one. A cute scene is created as the dog walks alongside the tiny girl with the leash dragging on the ground between them. There is a couple with a dog on a leash at another table. When friends approach and greeting are exchanged the dogs have to do the same. Each of them begins to sniff the other, first face to face and them muzzle to tail. They begin to circle as they do this twisting the leashes together in a knot.
We see several young men come along all clothed the same. They have long black coats, black pants and some are carrying musical instruments. The last in the group is carrying a flag and the only word I can make out is Porto. I guess they are from Portugal and heading to the music festival for a performance. I am only half right. Partway up the square, maybe twenty yards from us they begin to gather and get out instruments. Here is a happy accident. We wave over the waiter, pay for our drinks and walk over to get in the front of the onlookers that are beginning to multiply. The group is Tuna Musicatta Contractile. There are fifteen members performing here. Nine of the guys are playing stringed instruments ranging from mandolins to standard guitars. There is an accordion, three guys with small tambourines, the gent with the flag and another with a monkey. Well, at least a monkey puppet dressed in matching garb. After a couple of tunes they announce they are here from Portugal to play traditional songs from their country for us. They play and sing. The three with the small tambourines come out front from time to time and perform dances, playing the tambourines with their elbows, hips, knees and feet. The flag bearer also steps forward and spins and tosses the flag. I cross the circle created by the people to talk to the young man with the monkey. He has CDs he is selling and I want to get one. He tells me the organization has over a hundred members that perform all over Portugal. The fifteen fellows here are the only ones that could make this trip. I thank him for the music and the CD. At one point during the performance a small delivery truck, one of the few vehicles we have seen in the old part of town, slowly passes right through the circle of people, interrupting the song. As the truck passes the Portuguese they hide behind the truck and walk with it as if it had swept them away. At least they were having fun with a bad moment. After listening to the group for about half an hour we give up our spots and walk back to Haus Wartenberg.
Back at the B&B we meet up with Mom and Dad and recount the tale of the Portuguese folk music. We also share a video we took of one of the songs. We decide to try the Italian place a couple of blocks down tonight. After walking there we find it is full and without reservations we are out of luck. We walk back a block and then take a turn south just looking to see what we can find. A couple of blocks down we see a place named Gosser Stub’n on our side of the road. The sign says “essen & trinken”, eat and drink, so I know we can get some dinner. We go in on a whim. There are a few older men at the bar conversing with a lady who is tending bar. She greets us and shows us to a table in the adjoining room. The menus are only in German. She kindly runs us through the offerings, translating each item on the menu. The fair is tasty and very satisfying. The potato salad, in particular, is very good. There is another vegetable salad that is also a highlight. Aside from the kind waitress and food, two other things bring us pleasure. The first is a dog, Charley by name, who is lying under a table in the corner. He is obviously young and is leashed to the table so he doesn’t wander. He makes no noise, but lies quietly unless his master, the lady of the house, is near. Then he becomes very animated, but not noisy. He is a cute companion to dinner. The funniest item is the sign for the water closet. The sign has the requisite “WC” on it, but also has two figures, a man and women on it. They are in a posture of need. They are both slightly hunched over and have their hands over their crotches as if trying to hold back the tide. I suppose that is the universal gesture for having to pee. After the meal we thank the waitress profusely for being so helpful and walk back to the B&B. There is still some light in the sky, even at this late hour. Upon returning to Wartenberg Mom and Dad retire. Rhonda and I sit up in the dining room and have a nightcap while I take some notes for this journal. I try a rowan berry schnapps and Rhonda enjoys a glass of Austrian white wine. It has been a full and very fun day.
Day 5 – July 29th (Innsbruck)
Today we travel to Innsbruck. We have plenty of time before the train leaves so we come down to breakfast a little later than we had the last two days. This morning we sit in the second dining room across the hall. Armed with knowledge lent by the helpful waitress from dinner Rhonda is able to properly ask for mayonnaise. She is brought the big, industrial sized squeeze bottle from the kitchen. Another laugh is had. Dad would like a scrambled egg and a woman sitting at the only other occupied table in the room helps translate that he wants them scrambled hard. After breakfast we get our bags together. The morning is sunny and Mom and I stroll the grounds to take some picture of where we have been staying. Rhonda wanders out to the front yard and observes the bunnies in their interconnected hutches along the front wall. Eventually I walk up to the corner to see if there is a taxi available. We had noticed a few sitting there before when we walked by. It must be where they congregate to wait since it is a side street close to downtown. Luckily I see a taxi that can handle all of us and our bags and I ask the driver if he can take us to the hauptbahnhof, or train station. He brings the taxi down to the house and we get loaded up. As we begin to drive I take notice of the music playing. It is country and Rhonda identifies the singer as Toby Keith. I don’t know if the driver put that on for our benefit, or if that happens to be what he was listening to. The ride is quick and only costs us eleven euro. We still have about forty-five minutes before our train leaves at around eleven. While we wait Rhonda walks over to the bakery in the station to buy some bread for the cheese and sausage we still have left from the ride here. I go to the Spar, a local grocery chain, and buy some bottled drinks for the group. They are various juices and teas with an Austrian flair. One is an apricot spritzer (sprizz), which will provide you a sense of the difference. We hear an overhead announcement that states that some trains may be delayed because of international rail work. That sounds imposing, but it is the same work we had to come through on the way here.
Once our train’s track is displayed on the board we walk up to the platform and board. The train is more crowded today, but it is a Saturday. We find our table and get the bags stowed. The ride is only supposed to be about two hours to Innsbruck. We have a long delay in Ubersee and the whole trip will take about two and a half hours. There is no worry because we have no plans in Innsbruck this evening. Not having to worry about getting somewhere at a certain time alleviates stress on a trip. When we get out the food for lunch I simply break apart the remaining parmigiano reggiano as it is a harder, dry cheese. The goat cheese is another matter. I have no knife or even a fork. Inspiration strikes and I take out my wallet. I use my driver’s license to slice the soft cheese. This elicits some grins from the folks across the aisle, but at least I have sliced cheese. The bread is fresh and good and we make an admirable light lunch. When the snack cart comes down the aisle we can see that a Nespresso machine has been built into it. I guess that is better than hauling pots of premade coffee. With the sun being out we are able to observe all of the terrain we missed on the journey in. I am amazed at how much corn is being grown. It is probably a third to half of the fields we see that are being farmed for something other than livestock feed. The ride is extremely smooth again and we arrive in Innsbruck ready to go.
The train pulls in at one thirty. We have our bags in hand and disembark before the train moves on. There are no clouds in the sky and the temperature is hot, probably in the upper eighties. The weather from here on out is going to be much hotter than we planned on. I know the hotel where we are staying is in the old part of town and a taxi will not be able to get to it during a Saturday afternoon when the streets will be filled with pedestrians. The hotel is half a mile away and the route is simple, so we take off, bags being pulled behind us. We walk along one street for about a quarter of a mile and then make one turn and head north. After a block we reach a pedestrian lane that is wide and reminds me of the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. We aren’t confined to the sidewalk, but pulling our bags along behind us in the middle of the afternoon is a bit embarrassing. We cross a major road and then we are in the old part of town. The street is narrow and lined with tables for the restaurants. We are heading almost to the end of the road where it runs into the Goldenes Dachl. The street is full of tourists. After all, this is small area and the Golden Roof are one of the main attractions in town. We are looking for the Hotel Happ. We find Weinhaus Happ and walk to the build between the tables of diners, still pulling our bags. We ask a waiter about the hotel and he takes us down a hall that leads to the utility areas of the hotel and restaurant. There he stops and shows us a tiny elevator that would freak Hitler out. He says go up one floor to registration. We have to take two trips because we all don’t fit with our bags. I wait. When I get up to the first floor the hall is as narrow as on floor below. We try to stay out of the way of employee traffic and see the small desk that probably used to be a closet that serves as reception now. A fellow comes over and gets us checked in and gives us keys for rooms 501 and 502. We are all hot and sweaty and ready to stop hauling our bags and find some breeze somewhere and cool off. Mom and Dad take the elevator first, then Rhonda and I follow. It is on this trip I realize the fifth floor is the top floor. In my exasperated state all I can think is that the elevator will be the only option when we leave. We arrive on the top floor and find that there are only two rooms here, and they are ours. Rhonda and I approach 501, open the door and enter. Then everything changes, including our collective dispositions.
As I pull my bag into our room I hear music. This is live music, not recorded. Looking forward from the entryway I see a large room with our bed and a sitting area. Beyond that there are two windows that overlook the square, and one is swung open. It is from there that I hear a string trio playing Mozart. Leaving my bag forgotten for the moment I walk to the window and gaze out. Then a smile comes to my face and it will stay there quite a while. A slight breeze greets me as if to say, “Welcome to the Innsbruck you were looking forward to.” Looking out the window the scene is enchanting. As I mentioned we are on the top floor. All the buildings in this area are of the same height as this one. The only structures that I can see that are higher are the clock tower directly across the street and the steeples of churches with their patinaed domes and tulips. The Goldenes Dachl shines below us to the left. The building that contains the balcony with the golden roof has flower boxes in almost every window, adding red and pinks to the scene. Gazing into the square I can people passing to and fro and the tops of the umbrellas shading the restaurant tables. I then see the source of the music. There are three kids of various ages playing at the base of the clock tower. They have their violin case out for tips and jump from one tune to the next as each is completed. Looking over the roofs of old Innsbruck the Alps stand sentinel. They are high and run in line as far as I can see each way. Looking up the road to the way we came the peaks on the other side of the valley are visible as well. The murmur of the crowd, footsteps on cobblestone, the music, the centuries old architecture with splashes of color and the mountains rising in the background paint a wonderful vista. Then my Mom pops her head out of the window to the right, gazing from her own room. The smile on her face is wide and gleeful. It perfects the moment and it makes me very happy that we have come here.
Rhonda and I share the window at first, then I move over to the other one in our room. I figure out how to close it from the tilt is in and then swing it wide open using the same lever. From the ground it must look kind of silly with the three top windows of the building occupied by smiling faces poking out into the breeze. After a while of looking about we all make quick work of hanging up a few clothes and getting settled. We then proceed back down to the street and grab an outer table in front of Weinhaus Happ. Cold drinks are had all around and we sit and soak in the atmosphere of a Saturday afternoon in the heart of Innsbruck. The people watching is great and we are all feeling much better about where we are then when we passed this way less than an hour ago. While sitting we see people on the balcony surrounding the top of the clock tower. Mom and Dad decide to walk up and look around. Rhonda and I stay at the table for now. Before long we see Mom and Dad on at the top of the tower. After a break the string trio is playing again. This time an adult guitarist joins them for some songs. Mom and Dad return to the table and we all talk for a bit more. I then decide to walk the seven flights to the top of the tower myself.
There is a modest three euro admission fee for the tower. It includes use of the public restroom, so there is that. I ascend one flight of stairs to arrive at the first floor of the building attached to the tower. The ground floors here are referred to as floor zero, just like in our hotel. There I learn the proper name is the City Tower. Construction of the tower was completed in 1450. The mid-1400s is the vintage of most of the building in the immediate area, again, including our hotel. The City Tower would be occupied by guards who would stand on the high platform and watch for trouble of various types. I scan the barcode on my ticket and the turnstile allows me access to the 133 step spiral staircase that ascends the tower. It is actually a double helix. One staircase is for upward traffic and one for downward. I pause on the second to last floor to observe the clocks from the inside. There are four clocks, one on each side. While the face and hands are old, there are modern clocks inside turning the gears that operate the hands. I continue on and make it to the top of the stairs. I duck through the low, small door and find myself on the walkway that surrounds the tower. Above me is one last floor that is not accessible to the public. On top of that sits the stonework that supports the large, patinaed onion dome on the top. The walkway encircles the tower and is enclosed in a fence cage. I guess people jumping or falling to their death is not good business. The view is remarkable. I spot Rhonda, Mom and Dad below and we exchange waves and pictures. I take my time and circle the tower slowly, enjoying the view and cooling breeze at this height. I stand for a bit more after making my circuit before heading back down the long flights of stairs to the street.
I find the trio browsing some shops nearby. Dad is on the hunt for a hat of the Alpine variety. He finds one he likes and makes the purchase. We find a Swiss Army knife for Evan and add that to the loot. The transactions complete we walk northward. The Nordkette Funicular station is on the other side of the convention center, which is just outside of the old part of town. It is only a few blocks away, past the cathedral. We are walking to the station to find out what the Sunday hours are. We want to take the cable train in the morning. Once we have gathered the desired information we continue to walk through the adjoining park. Upon entering the park we see a sign with a lot of symbols on it. They are describing everything you can’t do. Some are expected, like walking a dog without a leash, some are not. Those include putting up a hammock and tight rope walking between the trees. I guess that is a problem around here. Arriving at a footbridge over the Inn River we walk out onto the bridge to enjoy the view along the river and up to the Nordkette range. We discuss possible property costs of the houses and apartments that line the river. Returning to the eastern bank we walk along the river to the next bridge, which is by Old Town again. We stroll lazily, taking in the feel of the place. The walkways become busier the closer to Old Town we get. After taking in the river views we cross the traffic laden street and enter the pedestrian, old part of town. Old Innsbruck was a walled city and the building we are walking by now used to be an old gatehouse, or some such thing. There is a statue of two freedom fighters near the building that look like frontier hunters to me. Especially since they are mounted on a plinth that is covered in vegetation and bushes that make them look like they are creeping through a forest. Maybe that is the effect they were going for.
We idly browse a few more shops and Mom and Dad declare they are going to return to Weinhaus Happ for a meal. Rhonda and I decide to continue our browsing and stroll and we go our different ways. A little later after circling to the east Rhonda and I will find Mom and Dad at a table in the street with a serious looking bratwurst in front of them. It is plated with side dishes in order to make a meal of it, though it doesn’t look like it needs much help. They are enjoying their time so we continue on our way. The street artists are coming out to see if they can earn a euro or two on a Saturday night. In our walk we pass a pianist playing a tune from the movie Amelie not far from the string trio. There is a living statue, a Charlie Chaplin mime, someone painting in water colors, and another person doing caricatures. We also pass another pianist and a brass choir. The entertainment is plentiful. Our wanderings take us back near the gatehouse and we decide to dine at the restaurant Ottoburg. We wait just a moment for a table to clear on the edge, by a very large potted plant. This is by design so we can be on the outside where the people watching is good. We select a bottle of Austrian red wine that turns out to be quite excellent. Dinner is delicious and the waiter a treat. Rhonda has veal with spaetzle and I what is call a deer pot. It is venison served with red cabbage, which is cooked and slightly sweet, berries and dumplings. It might be the best meal we have had so far.
As hoped, the people watching is good. We spot two hen parties, both in pink and black. One has everyone wearing wreaths in their hair. Every time a short dress or pair of shorty shorts goes by the two men at a table near us unabashedly stare, their heads tracking the movement of the woman. The sun sinks low as we dine and the sky dims. In response, the lights come up and shops close. All of the outside seating we can see gradually fills as the evening goes along. After our meal is finished we sit and enjoy the rest of our wine. Rain starts to come and we finish and return to Hotel Happ. We check in with Mom and Dad to arrange a time to meet for breakfast. I grab my notebook and Rhonda and I go back down to the street. The rain is coming down very steadily and the outside seating is mostly closed. We see that the Café Katzung next door has inside seating and the big windows are open to the street. I enjoy an apricot schnapps and Rhonda a wine while we add notes of the day’s events to the book. Later we are in bed and drifting towards sleep with the window open. Rhonda comments on the view. Right across the street is the City Tower. Spot lights from the neighboring roofs light up the clock face on each side. She snaps a picture with her phone for a Facebook post. After all, it is not often you can fall asleep with a 567 year old tower visible from your pillow.
Day 6 – July 30th (Innsbruck)
Today we only have one activity planned, so the day is more leisurely in pace. Mom and Dad are ready first and they head down to the breakfast room on the first, not ground, floor. When Rhonda and I come down a few minutes later they are at a table next to an open window that looks out towards the square. The large Winehaus Happ sign is just outside as well. The variety of food offered here is greater than at Haus Wartenburg, though still in the same vein. The old gal watching the room shuffles to and fro. She brings us coffee and soft boiled eggs. The milk she brings for the coffee is warm. We take our time as we don’t plan on starting to walk to the funicular station until after nine. It is Sunday morning and the church bells ring from time to time, signaling different points in the service. Both Rhonda and Dad go upstairs, leaving Mom and I to talk for a while longer. About five minutes before ten the peals begin that will go on for five minutes or more. Mom comments that she loves the tolling bells and that they, “Sound like music.” After they are done we decide to go upstairs to gather cameras and such. We find Rhonda coming back down as we are going up. As we enter the room I hear music again. We trot over to the windows to see what is going on. This time it is not just a string trio. There is a full blown band with a little over sixty members. They are setup in front of the golden roof playing to the square. All of the musicians are in traditional dress. They are standing in concentric semi-circles around the conductor. By the conductor are a couple of small children holding a sign. The only words I can make out from this distance are “Follow Me”. I suppose the band will move on and take the gathered crowd that is interested with them. They play for about twenty minutes or more. The songs all sound like traditional Austrian or German compositions. During one song most of the band lowers their instruments and sings. The four of us spend the time hanging out of our windows listening to the band and enjoying the entire scene. Sure enough, after the band is done they walk on with a big crowd following in their wake. I will later learn they are part of a music festival hosted by Wochen, which is a theater a couple of blocks away. Had we left earlier, we would have missed this. Had we sat at the breakfast table longer we would be four floors down and would have to interrupt the concert to get upstairs to our rooms. As it is the morning concert is a wonderful way to kick of the day’s activities.
The day is supposed to be hot again. Rain is possible this afternoon, but the sky is partly cloudy at the moment and the morning temperature is very tolerable. We walk to the funicular station and Dad buys everyone their tickets. The station is an odd bit of modern architecture above ground, like a misshapen, flat pillow draped over the stairs and escalators that lead down. The first part of the trip will be taken on a cable train. The cars are all small and have the ability to rotate. This is because the trip will become very steep and they want to keep their passengers upright. We are headed to the other end of the line which is Hungerburg, a little over a mile away. Our starting altitude is 1840 feet and the cable train will take us up to 2820 feet. In Hungerburg is the bottom of the cable car that will take us up to Seegrube, or Skyline Park, at 6250 feet. From there we will take a second cable car that ascends up another 1150 feet to Hafelekar, which is just below the peak. The train silently slides into the station and we board. We remain underground until just before the river at which point the trains rises above ground and stops at a station. We glide over the bridge and then begin to climb. Partway up we stop at another station close to the Alpinzoo, which is just what it sounds like. A zoo with just alpine animals. We stay on and see that the ascent is very steep now. The cars adapt and we arrive upright. We come out onto a series of steps instead of a flat platform. The loading station for the cable car is close at hand and we walk over to wait for the gondola to arrive.
This is where Rhonda doesn’t have a fun time. She doesn’t mind heights as long as she is standing on firm ground. Riding up in a suspended cable car will be a challenge, but one she is willing to endure. The gondola arrives and gets pretty full. It can probably hold fifty or more people. I stand in the middle with Rhonda and the journey begins. The gondola bobs as we pass over towers that support the cables we are riding on. Rhonda keeps her gaze down and notes most everyone in the car is wearing black or gray clothing. Below us I can see a winding trail heading up the mountain. I also see some crazy people hiking and biking of it. Innsbruck shrinks as we rise and the extent of the full size of the valley and mountains ranges that surround the city comes into better perspective. We arrive at Seegrube, which houses a shop, restaurant, playground and more. This is a major skiing site in the winter. Rather than look around here we decide to get the rest of Rhonda’s trial over and continue up to the top immediately. The second cable car run is at a ninety-degree angle to the first and is much shorter. So much so it has no towers along the way. It is a straight run from one building to the next. On the journey up I spot a small group of goats grazing on the rocky slopes. This will not be our only encounter with the local wildlife. I also notice that there is no snow nearby, except for one small field nestled in a hollow under the cable car run. We get into the wheelhouse at Hafelekar, which is much smaller than the last building. This one houses just the cable car, restrooms and a tiny eatery. We are now 7400 feet up. We all walk outside to take in the view.
Magnificence! We couldn’t be blind to the view on the journey up to this height, but those looks were seen through windows. To stand outside and have an unobstructed view is wonderful. Though there are some clouds, the day is bright and there is a lot of sunshine over the range we are standing on. The Inn River gently bends through the valley and we can see all of Innsbruck and the wide valley before us. The forests on the slopes are thick and look like blankets laid on the sides of the mountains. The lighter green of fields, meadows and ski runs pop out against the very dark green of the forests. The mountains seem unending. They continue rank upon rank into the distance, the general altitude increasing as they fade into the distance. The closer peaks have some snow field visible, but those farther away seem to have much more. The thought occurs to me that there is another vista waiting up some distance. We all walk up the path to the saddle between the closest peak and its neighbor. We are not disappointed.
This range is part of a national park and the views to the north, away from the city are unspoiled by any sign of man. The Alps march off into the distance. Forest, snow and stone reaching for the sky and reminding you how small a thing you are by comparison.
We gorge ourselves on the view, but I want more. Mom, Dad and I decide to walk up the last 200 feet to the top of Hafelekarspitz. Rhonda says she will sit at one of the picnic tables on the patio by the building. We begin the ascent. The way is steep in places, but very manageable. The herds of goats that wander the peak have been through this area. In fact they are grazing just on the other side of the peak from us. The grass is enjoying the warm of summer and is healthy and inviting to the mountain’s hoofed inhabitants. There is a large wooden cross on the top of the peak, which is very common. We have reached the 7655 foot summit and enjoy the views all around. Words fail you at times like this and all that can be done is to stare. Your heart races, you feel the cool of the breeze on your cheek and arms. You see all of the details and try to etch them in your memory. The crispness of the shadows in the foreboding spires and peaks. The thick, patchy turf struggling for purchase between the rocks. The small, dainty flowers of purple, blue, yellow and white having their brief moment in the sun. The bleating and shaggy goats who call this place home. The dark forest and bright meadows. The seemingly unending mountains that fade into haziness lent by great distance. And finally, an outpost of mankind over eight hundred years old nestled in the middle of this wilderness along an ancient river crossing.
We finally pull ourselves away and descend to join Rhonda. We find her in conversation with a trio of Germans at the next table. The crows are numerous, begging for scraps. They land on the wall next to the table and Rhonda shoos them away with a wave and sharp “Auf Wiedersehen!” The one German gal chuckles every time Rhonda does this. Dad walks inside and fetches a couple of wheat beers for us to enjoy in the sun while we look out over the valley. The Germans depart and their table is taken up by an Englishman from South Hampton with a chubby pug in tow. He is on a two week tour with his wife who is an Australian living and working in China. The pug is the lady’s child and she shows us pictures of the dog dressed up in lederhosen. Living apart so much of the time must be difficult. We pass the time in conversation and people watching. At one point we hear loud bleating coming from behind us and a nanny and her kid poke their heads over the rise. They amble down and cut right through the people on the path and continue down the slope. I guess they just wanted to make sure things were clear enough and that everyone knew they were coming. The animal amusement doesn’t stop there. One crow, maybe peeved at Rhonda, if we can instill human emotion in birds, swoops down to the wall. Instead of landing I see a payload coming down which he has delivered like a dive bomber. Rhonda is hit, but not too badly and he flies away. There isn’t too much mess to clean up and we all have a laugh after the initial shock. We decide to take the cable car down to Seegrube and have lunch at the restaurant there.
The trip down is easier on Rhonda and we find the Skyline Park bustling on this Sunday. The sun is full out above us and the day is getting warm, even up here. We see our German friends from above at one of the few outdoor tables with space. I decline their invitation to join them and we go inside, out of the sun. There are huge picture windows and while the view isn’t as nice as being outside, we have been baking for a time up at Hafelekar. We all sit at a larger table so we can see outside. We enjoy a leisurely, light and very tasty lunch. In particular I have a Tirolian plate which has a couple of local cheeses, meats and pickles. Our meal finished we walk outside to view the Alps from this angle. Rhonda volunteers me to take pictures of people are who trying to take selfies with the mountains in the background. Around four in the afternoon it is decided to make the trip back down the mountain to Innsbruck. It is downright hot in town with the temperature around ninety. There are some shops we spotted yesterday that we want to revisit, but everything is closed because it is Sunday. We decide to stop at for an iced coffee and shared sweet at a konditorei. A konditorie is a small shop that sells pastries and sweets. We sit outside and order. Rhonda asks if they have iced coffee and is given an affirmative. I order one as well. We should have ordered cold coffee. “Eis” is the German word for ice cream and we wind up with a coffee ice cream in a parfait glass with coffee and whipped cream over the top. It is not quite what we were looking for. Rhonda slurps up the coffee and I eat the ice cream. A piece of cake and tart is brought to the table which is shared around. We are all a little bushed and decide to nap. I was up very early in the morning for no particular reason. It did afford me the opportunity to watch the sunrise, but I am tired now. We all walk back to the hotel to rest.
The church bells peal full and loud at seven and awaken us. It is another of the long sessions that goes on for a few minutes. Rhonda is at the window when she announces, “Here comes the band.” Shortly afterwards we hear music. This time it is a march. Going to the window and looking down I see a marching band coming down the street. They are all in a light blue coats with green trim, black pants and a black hat with a plume. After the first tune they halt their march. The group breaks formation and reassembles in a concert configuration in the same spot the band from the morning did. This group is a little smaller, with forty to fifty musicians. The “Follow me” sign is once again present and this must be another group performing for the music festival. They play four more tunes before changing back into parade formation. They strike up another march as they head off to the Wochen. The sky to the west is really dark and the wind is picking up. It seems as if the rain forecast for today is arriving. The large, rectangular umbrellas of the restaurants below are in close formation. There are cloth gutters strung between them that would probably serve to keep the patrons dry in a light rain. It doesn’t seem that is what is coming. The various staff of the restaurants begin to take out the gutters, collapse the umbrellas and tie them up. They also begin to clear tables and gather cushions. The wind is now extremely strong and is picking up detritus from the street and swirling it around the square. Included in this is a feather. In Forest Gump fashion it twirls around, up and down in the wind. It lands for a moment on the geraniums in the pots around the balcony one floor below us. Another gust picks it up and carries it up and over the roofs and out of our reckoning. A spinning rack in front of a shop is toppled and signs are blown over. A dark line of clouds passes overhead and looms over the mountains like something Saruman conjured up in The Two Towers. Then the rain arrives in earnest. It quickly picks up in fury and begins to come down in sheets. There is a light mounted on the roof next to us that shines down on the square. The rain is caught in the yellow light and looks like gold pouring onto the golden roof which is gleaming through the rain.
The storm has completely obscured the mountains. All of the commerce below us has moved inside. Each restaurant has inside seating as well. When the rain lightens to more of a sprinkle we all go downstairs. Rhonda and I talk to a waiter at Weinhaus Happ. He says the rain happens four or five times a week during the summer. Sometimes they can keep going outside, sometimes they can’t. He recommends two places for dinner. The first is across the street and up a floor. They are full, as expected, and the wait is very long. We try the next recommendation, called the Goldenes Dachl, which is across the street from the namesake roof. There is a wait here too, but it seems more reasonable. We stand in the doorway between the warm air of the restaurant and cool of the rainy night. In about ten to fifteen minutes we are ushered to a table in the back room. This is nice because it is near a door to the street and a pleasant breeze is coming in. There is a large table full of twenty something young adults who are talking quite loudly. Rhonda has some kid that has breaded and fried, which I guess is no more unusual than eating lamb. I am not very hungry and just have a small bowl of goulash with bread. Mom and Dad share a plate of roast pork with cabbage and potatoes. The beer is good and the meal enjoyable. When done Mom and Dad go back to the room to shower for bed. Rhonda and I walk the quiet streets. They are wet with the rain and reflecting the lights of the city. It is late on a Sunday and few people are about now. When back at our hotel we search out the bar in the restaurant. It is a tiny affair that is just there to serve the needs of the restaurant. The only people around are employees and some of their friends. The lady from breakfast is present and tells the fellow it is OK for us to sit because we are guests of the house. A couple of schnapps are poured and we wind down for bed. We watch the pair of fellows in the kitchen working, cleaning up after the day’s business. We gaze around at the artifacts on the walls and contemplate their origins. When done we head to bed.
Day 7 – July 31st (Garmisch-Partenkirchen)
Our sleep is disturbed during the night. There is a woman wandering the street and yelling at some unseen adversary. She is old with gray hair. She is wearing nothing but a loose, shapeless tie-dyed dress. She is barefoot and carries something under her arm. Wandering here and there around the area she will stop, shake her fist at the sky and curse. Maybe she is mad at the storm. Who knows? This will continue off and on through the wee hours of the morning until after dawn. At that point two police will finally show up. She talks with them calmly for a bit before launching into another tirade. It is then that they escort her away, possibly to a padded room.
Today we are heading into Germany. We have a train that will take us from Innsbruck to Garmisch. The train doesn’t leave until 12:38, which means we don’t have to be at the train station until a little after noon. Thus we have time to spend in Innsbruck this morning and we don’t have to be in a rush. We all breakfast at the same table by the window as we did yesterday. Rhonda has some scrambled eggs, but has to send them back to be hard cooked. It is Monday, so it is a normal work day for most folks. After a leisurely breakfast we get most everything packed so we are ready to go. There are a couple of shops that were closed yesterday that I want to visit today. One is a game store that had a lot of interesting looking decks of cards in the window. The other is a glassblower’s shop. The sun is warm and bright this morning. There is a fellow watching the game store who is also minding the souvenir store next door. The two businesses are separated by a small hallway that leads to apartments. He passes back and forth as the flow of customers dictates. This early in the day it is only our group. We do find a nice hat feather for Cory. The glass store is closer to the river. When we arrive there is a lady hanging a sign on the door. She says she will be right back because she has to park her car somewhere else so she doesn’t get ticketed. I guess the few cars we see on the streets this morning must get off of the old streets during business hours so pedestrians can roam without care. We are looking for schnapps glasses, but find nothing that interests us.
We decide to gather our belongings and walk to the train station. We stick to the shade, which is cool, and slowly make our way to the station. We pass the time in the information office where there are some empty seats. While there the same woman comes in three times asking for help. I guess she either didn’t understand the instructions, or she needed a lot of help. When our platform is announced we walk up to it. There is a female conductor on the platform and she helps us find a place to put our large bags for the trip. This train doesn’t have reserved seating, but the ride isn’t too long, just about seventy minutes. We find two pairs of seats across the aisle from one another. Between each pair of seats, which are facing one another, is a small table. The tabletop depicts a map of the route this train will take. It will go all the way to Munich. It is nice in that with the map we can track our progress by the stations we go though. The view from the train is quite remarkable. The run takes us up to the side of the mountains. The track runs along a ledge wide enough for the train and little else for some stretches. We continue to climb and then cut north into the mountains. Once through some tunnels we return to running along valley floors the rest of the way to Garmisch.
We arrive at a small station that services a pair of small towns. The River Partnach separates the towns of Garmisch to the west and Partenkirchen to the east. The train station sits in between the two town centers. The walk to the B&B is about half a mile. After a couple of blocks we are in residential neighborhoods. We walk along a road that follows the river, our bags once again in tow. The weather is hot and we decide that a taxi will be used to get back to the station in a couple of days. We are staying at the Hotel Garni-Trifthof. It is a large Tirolian style home that looks similar to the others in this neighborhood. There is a large hole in the street in front of the house with some fellows working on what looks like the sewer or water lines. Sure enough, after checking in we find out that the water to the building is off until 3:30pm. We have rooms on the second floor on opposite sides of the house. Mom and Dad are in the one looking to the front. Their balcony is hung with window boxes full of flowers and looks out to the mountains to the east and south. Rhonda and I have a balcony that looks out to the west and north. We also have mountains, with Zugspitz dominating the view. Zugspitz is the highest point in Germany. It seems a lot of the slopes to the east and south and west have ski runs on them. From Mom and Dad’s balcony we can trace the ascent of a chairlift to the top of the nearest mountain. We unpack items for the next couple of days and cool ourselves in the breeze on the balcony.
We decide to walk towards Partenkirchen to find someplace for a late lunch. I lead, but don’t follow the correct road far enough to get to the old town center. Thus we wind up a little more to the north and don’t see too much in the way of businesses. There is one restaurant at hand, but it is closed between lunch and dinner. Rhonda and I pass and old gent on the street but he has no English and motions us to a nearby shoe store. Rhonda goes in while I update Mom and Dad. Inside she makes an inquiry about a restaurant that would be open at this time. The old guy comes into the shop and the clerk acts as a translator and we get a destination. We are off to the Gasthof Drei Mohren. The directions are good and we are soon sitting at an outside table in the shade and breeze. Drei Mohren is a hotel and restaurant next to a fountain in a square. It is on the north end of the old part of Partenkirchen. Some cold drinks are brought and we contemplate lunch. Rhonda has a dish of local mushrooms in a cream sauce served over dumplings that is fantastic. After a lazy lunch we walk along the street that contains old Partenkirchen. Most of the buildings have luftlmalerei. The paintings depict the virtues of the business inside or some religious or historical tale. The buildings are painting a wide variety of pastel colors with contrasting trim. The luftlmalerei add color and character. Everything combines to make a lovely scene. We get partway down the street and see where the road we were walking on would have brought us into this old part of town. Mom and Dad want to return to the room so I show them a map on my phone and make sure they are clear on the directions. They do make it back in good order. Rhonda and I continue down the lane.
We visit a shop that sells wine and get ourselves a chilled, easy drinking white. The store keeper throws in some sweet treats to boot. Not much further down we come across a large chocolaterie. They have a large replica of the ski jump on the edge of town in the front window. It is probably four to five feet long and three feet high and all made out of chocolate. They also have a smaller chocolate mountain that several small figures are climbing. We quickly decide to go in. There are two large showcases. One is full of various truffles and sweets, and the other full of sheets of chocolate that have been mixed with different ingredients and broken in pieces like bark. They have some interesting combinations and we start picking some things out. There is one with cardamom and another with ginger. When the clerk has some trouble translating a couple of words she calls over another girl. The new girl speaks fluent English and sounds decidedly American. We guess that she is here working for several months. We had met a young lady at a winery in Virginia that said she spent six months in Italy making cheese. We are guessing this might be something like that. It would be quite the adventure for a young adult. She continues to help us and describes several of the truffles too. We make a couple more purchases and then continue our walk. Once we get to where the old part of town ends we turn towards Hotel Trifthof to put our feet up.
We sit on the balcony and enjoy our wine. Rain passes over shortly after we get back and all four of us watch a rainbow. There is also a hummingbird moth cruising through the flowers in front of Mom and Dad’s balcony. We sit and enjoy the views and simply relax. About eight o’clock we decide to take a taxi to the old part of Garmisch where we are told we can find Black Forest cake. We have the innkeeper call us up a taxi and we are soon off to Café Thron. The ride costs 8,40 euro, but is worth the price. The cake is good, but not what we expected. There is much more whipped cream that we thought would be there. I am sure there are as many varieties as there are people who make the traditional desert. Unfortunately we won’t have the chance to try it again somewhere else. We take our time and enjoy the evening as the suns sets. The taxi ride back is cheaper than the trip here and we part ways for the night. Rhonda and I sit on the balcony and watch the star coming out. There is still a glimmer of light behind Zugspitz when we go to bed. My phone rings at 1:30 in the morning. It is nothing but a solicitation. Availing myself of the bathroom since I am already awake I take a peak outside. The sky is clear and the stars are full. I decide the call is fortuitous and grab my camera. It is new and has some nighttime and time lapse options. I play around taking different pictures of the mountain with the stars filling the sky. I get a successful time-lapse shot showing the movements of the stars. The picture includes the mountain which has a single light shining at the top of the cable car and provides one stationary “star” amongst the rest that are moving. In my last picture I capture a shooting star. This is one more happy accident that makes our trips so memorable.
Day 8 – August 1st (Garmisch-Partenkirchen)
Today is Rhonda and I’s 30th wedding anniversary. We are very happy to have been married so long and are very pleased to be spending the day in Europe with my parents. We exchange cards and are nervous to see the envelopes are the same. On our 25th anniversary we gave each other the exact same card. The cards today are different and will spend the day on our bed stands. We have other plans. The breakfast room is on the main floor and faces the backyard. The view is wonderful and the breakfast the best we have had on our trip so far. We are taking a private tour of Neuschwanstein today. Our guide is named Jake and he will be picking us up out front at about eight thirty. We will be spending all day with him. The front desk gets a call letting us know he is running a few minutes late. When he arrives he explains that there was some slow farm equipment on the road north of town. He is driving a small van which we fit very comfortably in. Once introductions are made we pile in and Jake steers us out of town. He begins by giving some of his background. He was born and raising in southern Louisiana. He got his degree in history but wound up working in the oil industry. Twenty-one years ago he didn’t feel his life was headed the right way, pulled up stakes and came to Europe. He worked as a tour guide for many years before setting up his own company. He now has eight vans that operate on a regular bases and he says he is doing tours himself five to six days a week. He married a German woman and they have two small girls now. His wife runs her own business and he loves his life now. He is immersed in history all the time and gets to educate other people on the rich past of the area.
As we drive north and west we query Jake on different things and he points out various sites on our journey. We ask about what looks like small hay barns scattered in the pastures and fields. He explains that are called stalls and goes into a description of how the arrangements between the farmers and the land owners work. It seems most of the land that is farmed is still owned by the old rich families. The farmers usually have between a dozen and thirty cows and lease grazing right on those fields that can support their herd. The lease allows them to build the stall and that is why you can see several in the same pasture. The farmers also use the stall to store firewood they cut and sell to supplement their income. We also get into a long discussion about fishing and hunting in Bavaria. The streams have brook and rainbow trout, but the rainbow trout are an import and the government is trying to get rid of them. As a consequence there is no limit on rainbow trout. Getting a fishing license is another matter.
A person is required to take a class that helps educate the potential fisherman on recognizing diseases and other such things. That costs about €1,600. Once the class is passed you can purchase a lifetime license for about €550. You still can’t fish, though. You need to belong to a fishing club and the annual dues will run about €300. Jake has his license and makes money by fishing out lots of rainbow trout and selling them to a friend who has a restaurant. Another interesting tidbit is that the zoning laws in most towns in this region dictate that structures have to be built in the alpine style. Jakes says that the population in the region was decimated after the thirty years war and a lot of people came north from Tirol to repopulate and rebuild. They brought the alpine style and it stuck. These and other topics make it an interesting and educational drive.
We arrive at our parking spot. There is a collection of buildings below the hill on which Neuschwanstein sits. Aside from the ticket office there are a couple of restaurants, a hotel and some shops. The area also contains Hohenschwangau castle. Jake parks in a small lot behind a building and pays for his parking. He takes people on these tours all the time and knows many people along the way, including this parking attendant. He gives us directions to a spot outside a café where we can wait for him. He is going to bypass the lines and fetch our tickets. We meet up in about fifteen minutes and he begins the tale. Jake will tell the tale of this castle and Ludwig II, who built it, from the very beginning. He starts with tales of Maximilian, his father, and his castle Hohenschwangau, and how this castle inspired things in Ludwig II. Jake continues the tale, which carries on like a soap opera, throughout our entire visit. He will weave all of the key characters in expertly. His enthusiasm for the tale and the manner in which he tells it is extremely engaging. He brings in modern corollaries and makes the tale relatable to us, the listeners. I highly commend his spirit and storytelling ability. There are three ways to ascend to the castle: bus, carriage and foot. We are taking the bus up most of the way. While we wait he begins the tale and sets the stage. The ride is short and we are soon by the path to Mary’s Bridge. We walk the path to where the bridge in is sight. There is a large crowd on the bridge and Jake has us wait in the shade while he continues the tale. When the crowd dissipates he gives us tips for getting the best views and lets us proceed alone.
Mary’s Bridge is named for Ludwig II’s mother, Marie. The bridge spans a deep gorge and provides a spectacular view of the castle and the valley beyond. We spend some time there admiring the view and Rhonda and I have our picture taken holding our Green Bay Packers flag with the castle in the background. When we walk back to where Jake waits we begin to walk the rest of the path to the castle. It is not a short distance and he has time to continue the tale. At one bend in the trail he stops where it passes under the westernmost edge of the castle and the balcony on the main building. The bend provides a great view of Hohenschwangau, the lakes next to it and the mountains beyond. The valley is also spread out to the right. Jake stops for another reason. There is a lot of the tale to tell. Ludwig II was mad for the story of Lohengrin. The small lake behind Hohenschwangau is Schwansee, or Swan Lake. This has nothing to do with the ballet, but everything to do with Lohengrin and Ludwig’s obsession. Swan Lake is the lake where Lohengrin had his episode with Elsa and the swan boat and became known as the Swan Knight. The name Neuschwanstein translates to New Swan on the Rock. Ludwig became close friends with Wagner, who penned many of the operas telling the tales that Ludwig loved. It is during this stop that Jakes tells of the Disney connection. They long ago licensed the rights to all of the imagery in the castle. Not only does the castle serve as inspiration for Sleeping Beauty’s castle in Disneyland, Jake points out some figures below the balcony. They are comical representations of Ludwig’s six political advisors. Two of these are recognizable as ghosts in the Haunted Mansion ride in the Magic Kingdom. There are other connections throughout the castle. We notice some people loitering near us from time to time to hear parts of the tale as told by Jake. This will happen a few times. His knack for telling a tale and providing worlds more information than the proper tour are certainly the reasons.
We continue up and pass under the north wall of the castle towards the main entrance on the east side. This was intended to be the horse and carriage entrance with the main pedestrian entrance on the north. The castle was never completed, so the eastern entrance is how people approach the castle now. The castle contains a lot of fakery and facades. Ludwig was strapped for cash to build his dream castles. Yes, there are more than just this one. How he raised some of the money figures into the tale and is somewhat dubious. Thus when it came to Neuschwanstein a lot of corners were cut. The walls are not large marble stones, but rather normal stone walls covered by a thinner façade of marble. Most of the jewels encrusted the fixtures in the castle are just colored glass. Likewise most of the gold is also just paint, and not real gold. Jake pulls us into a room close to the gate and continues the tale, which becomes more sordid. He is now to the part where a conspiracy is hatched against the king and people come to arrest him and commit him as mentally unstable. The epic continues as we proceed to the courtyard and wait for our entry time. Jake will not follow us on the internal tour, but rather wait for us where the tours exit. He says the formal tour guides are not very good since ownership of the operation changed. He loads us up with information regarding the things we will see inside. He tells us to pay attention to particular paintings and rooms where parts of the tale occurred. He also says that the first Siemans telephone, which was installed in the castle, is still there. It only connected to Hohenschwangau and nearby Fussen back in the days of this tale. The phone was used by a faithful servant to call for help when the first party came to depose the king. Armed with information we proceed inside.
The tour group is about thirty people. We start from the lower courtyard, ascend a flight of stairs, and walk down a long hallway that runs along the upper courtyard to a big room on the second floor. We are all given little speaker that we can hold to our ear to better hear the tour guide if needed. The guide is small, monotone and closes his eyes when giving his presentation in each room, as if visualizing the script he his reading from. This guy is the polar opposite of Jake. I am very glad that Jake is our guide for the day. If I had to rely on this fellow and anything I could read, this visit would not be a good experience. Jake has filled us with stories that provide context to what we are seeing and I am grateful. From the second floor we walk to St. George’s Tower, the biggest one, and climb up to the fifth floor. The third floor is unfinished and the fourth floor holds shops and restrooms. The fifth floor has the throne room and Ludwig’s quarters. The first stop is the throne room. It is two stories tall with a balcony ringing the room on the upper floor. We notice the colored glass in the chandelier and other shortcuts throughout the room. One glaring omission in the room is a throne. There is none, just an empty dais. It was never built. Proceeding to the eastern end of the floor we pass through the various rooms that made up Ludwig’s living space. From the bedroom to the dressing room, study and more you can see the same repeated themes. There are swans, knights and imagery from Lohengrin and other old tales everywhere. For a castle built in the 1870s and 1880s, it looks and feels like something much older. But that, after all, was Ludwig’s desire. He was obsessed with the stories of old and wanted to live in a place surrounded by them and that lived up to his fairy tale ideal.
We climb one more flight of stairs to arrive at the sixth floor, which is the top of the main building. The Minstrel’s Hall sits up here and takes up all of the space on the floor save for the balcony of the throne room. The room is tall and the slant of the roof is evident in the cathedral ceiling. No performances were held here in Ludwig’s time. In fact he spent fewer than two hundred nights in this castle. Court life never moved here so he was pretty much the sole resident, aside from staff. The painting behind the stage is a woodland scene that gives the impression you can walk into it. This painting is one item Jake asked us to pay attention to because it was the inspiration for a Disney movie. Rhonda has it right away, Bambi. There is a stag staring at the viewer from the background and several of the small woodland creatures scattered about at play. This room is where the guided tour ends. I won’t miss it. From here we use the south tower to walk down two floors where the shops are. There is nothing of real interest for us here, but having a gift shop after the ride is very much a Disney thing and the similarity is not lost on us. Jake has told us not to miss the balcony. We follow the correct hallway down and are soon on a large balcony looking west, towards Hohenschwangau and Mary’s Bridge. The view is remarkable and we stand and enjoy the sunlit vistas. Eventually we continue down two more flights. The kitchen is on the second floor and is quite the affair, filled with copperware of all sorts. The castle had running water and there was even running warm water in the king’s chambers. That is another of the cutting edge amenities of the time that the castle had. We finally walk down the final flight and join Jake on the path on the north side of the castle.
Jakes greets us and we catch up and ask a few questions we had after our visit. We do this as we stroll down the hill to the bus and carriage stop. Rhonda doesn’t want to walk downhill in her shoes and so we opt to take a carriage down. It is not part of the admission, but three euros apiece is a small price to pay to keep Rhonda’s feet in walking condition the rest of the day. Jake continues the tale of Ludwig after his removal from the castle and through his death under mysterious circumstances. He says we can debate the theories at lunch. The carriage arrives and the driver waters the horses as people board. Jake defers and says he will walk down as he needs to get his exercise. The carriage only holds eight to ten and we four sit facing forward while another group sits facing us. The driver walks the horses slowly downhill along the wooded lane. Rhonda and I fall into conversation with an Italian couple with a small girl facing us. Rhonda makes a gift of an US quarter to the small girl. The family drove up from Genoa and is staying in Seefold. They are renting a place for fifty euros a day, which sounds like a really good deal. Talk of travel and Italy fill the time as we descend to Hohenschwangau. Jake is waiting for us in the parking lot and we say our goodbyes to the Italians. Getting back to the van we continue on our way. While the theories regarding how Ludwig and his doctor came to their deaths will complete the adventure of Neuschwanstein a little later, our time at the castle is done. The visit has been most enjoyable and we have all had a good time visiting one of the most famous of castles. This is all due to Jake and his skills as a guide.
We are on our way to the town of Oberammergau, which is on the Ammer River. This town is famous for its Passion Play, which they have performed continuously, every ten years since 1634. Oberammergau is also famous for its luftlmalerei and woodcarvers. On the way, as we pass through lovely Bavarian countryside, we ask Jake about a recommendation for dinner. It is our anniversary and we want something special. He runs us through a few options and we select the French place. He calls the restaurant and makes us a reservation under the name of Elvis. During the ride he fills us in on the ancient history of the area, speaking of trade routes and plagues. These are dull sounding topic, but we all have an interest in history and he can tell a good tale. He also talks about how Bavaria is a lot like Texas. They are a state within Germany, but pretty much consider themselves independent. We drive though the center of Oberammergau, which is a beautiful little town. The church is the tallest thing around, as is usual in these towns. The buildings are mostly one and two story structures with the occasional three story affair thrown in. Jakes gets us parked and we walk through the Oberammergau Parish Church on our way to lunch. It is very impressive. Most of the old churches are because they had all the money. This one was rebuilt in the early 1700s and is a rococo orgy. The organ and choir loft are amazing and the altar huge and ornate. The whole place is filled with gilt statues, marble, frescos and swirling designs. It looks like an inside out royal wedding cake.
We continue our walk to Ammergauer Maxbrau, which is a microbrew and restaurant. A pleased looking cow statue with a sign around its neck greets us as we enter the patio and go inside. The bar looks like a steampunk construction with copper pipes and valves all over the place rising to the ceiling above the taps. The place is known for its kellerbier, or cellar beer. It is an unfiltered beer and has a mild sweet edge to it. The food is good and the talk turns to the conspiracy theories surrounding Ludwig’s death. During lunch a vespa gets into Jake’s drink. The cold stuns the bee and he rescues it from the icy beverage. Putting it on his placemat the bee finally warms up and flies away. Jake says that bees, wasps and hornets are protected by Germany’s Nature Protection Law. After lunch we stroll towards a building that has a luftlmalerei from 1784 by one of the most famous of luftlmalerei painters, Frank Zwinck. He tells us of the origins of the luftlmalerei and how they came to be so prominent in this region. He inquires if there is any shopping we want to do in town and Rhonda and I say the only thing we are looking for is a real cuckoo clock. Of course he knows the place to take us and he is soon introducing us to the proprietor of a store that has a wall loaded with clocks. We explain we only want a mechanical clock, not electric. She shows us the proper area where they are hung and the choices of styles number in the scores. We ask about one in particular and she gently rotates the minute hand until the clock strikes the hour. The sound of the cuckoo is resonate and so much different than the electric variety. We find a style that we like, but we want one with music and dancers. She pulls out her catalogs and finds the correct one for us and we make the purchase. She says the clock has Swiss mechanisms, but is carved and built in the Black Forest. The clock will ship directly to us from the Hones factory. Our anniversary present purchased we continue on with our day. There is one more stop Jake has planned.
Between the town of Oberammergau and Garmisch is the small town of Ettal. In the town is the famous Ettal Abbey. It is a Benedictine monastery founded way back in 1330. The monastery is a large complex now with the abbey sitting in the center of a large rectangle of buildings. They house a school, the monks’ living quarters, offices and a store. The monks brew beer, and distill medicinal liquors which are sold in the store with books and other religious items. The buildings for the production of the beer and spirits sit outside the rectangle at the foot of the hill. Jake parks us of to the side and we enter the large green space through an arch in the outer buildings. The abbey sits at the top of a rise and the large square formed at this side of the rectangle is a well manicured lawn with paths crossing it. We take a quick stop in the store so I can pick up a bottle of their dark beer before the shop closes. It is something I want to try later. We return the bottle to the van and then all stand in the shade of the archway while Jake spins a tale. This time Jake gives us all roles to play. The story is once again engaging and interesting, especially the way he tells it. He tells us of Ludwig the Bavarian, who was the Holy Roman Emperor at the time of the tale in the early 1300s. The tale involves the Pope, Ludwig’s general and a statue of the Madonna and Child that was given to him as a gift. The statue still exists and his inside the abbey on the spot where Ludwig’s horse genuflected three times during his journey back from Italy. After seeing the road the horse had to ascend, it was probably just tired. That road is the trade route that Jake has spoken of earlier. The tale includes pilfered funds, lazy stonemasons and wars. Jake’s hat stands in for the statue as its history is recounted as it traveled through a few hands to wind up here. The original monastery as severely damaged during the Reformation. Most of the complex burned in the mid 1700s and was rebuilt in a baroque style. With the tale of the statue and founding told we proceed up the steps and into the abbey.
Inside the doors are a second set of older doors, which are part of the original gothic abbey. We will see a few of portions of it, but the majority of what is visible is the baroque masterpiece that stands today. The abbey is unusually in that it is two joined circles instead of having the normal cross floor plan. The bigger circle, with a high domed ceiling, mimics the shape of the original gothic church. The smaller, adjoined circle holds the altar. We sit together in pews and Jake points out different paintings, frescoes and statuary around the space. He highlights where the statue from the 1300s sits, behind the altar. It is a long distance from here and is barely visible given its diminutive size, which is about that of Jake’s hat. White and rose marble along with gold dominate the space. The baroque design still has lots of rococo elements and the ornate trimmings make a riot for the eyes. The organ that site above the entryway is massive and beautiful. The mural on the immense dome is amazing and you get dizzy looking up and trying to comprehend it all. It is getting close to five o’clock and it is time to go. We cross the street to buy some cold bottled water for the ride on this hot day. We are amused to find that the water is €2.50 while the bottle of beer I bought in the monastery shop was only €1.50. It has been a fascinating day with Jake and well worth the extra money required for a private tour. The wealth of information and stories told in an entertaining fashion made the sites that we saw all the more meaningful for us. Soon Jake has us back at Hotel Trifthof in Garmisch and we part ways with many thanks.
We relax and refresh on the balconies in the time we have before dinner. I try the monk’s beer and find it good, but not as nice as many of the others I have had on this trip. We decide to walk along the river to dinner. The restaurant is in the Hotel Reindls Partenkirchner. It sits close to the River Partnach just off the next road bridge to the north. The walk is pleasant with the stream running along to our right. We find the French restaurant easily and discover it is extremely fancy. We are seated at a table by the window. Our waiter is Croatian and Rhonda and I will talk about his country and compare notes from our visit. He is very helpful and friendly. We always drink the wine of the country we are in, so tonight it is a Riesling from the Mosel region of Germany. Mom and Dad are not drinkers, but they each have a little of the wine to give it a try. The entrees are all superb with excellent presentation and delicious flavor. Mom and Dad share a plate of local beef and vegetables. Rhonda has halibut with fennel and I local cremini mushrooms in a cream sauce over dumplings. Yes, this is the third time this dish has been ordered on this trip, but it is excellent. My meal is brought out in a tureen and the waiter ladles some into a soup bowl. The second part of the portion he puts into another bowl which is placed on a hot pad and them covered. As we are enjoying our meals he notices when I have finished the first bit he swaps out the bowls. I guess it is a fancy way of making sure my meal stays hot all the way through dinner. While we eat the sun sets and we can see a storm moving to the north. Lightning flashes illuminate the clouds. The rain never does make it to us though. We sit for a bit after our entrees are finished and talk amongst ourselves and with the waiter. When the time comes we cannot pass up desert. Mom and Dad share a parfait and Rhonda and I share Crepes Suzette. The desert is cooked tableside and we get quite the show, flames and all. With desert glasses of champagne are ordered so we can toast the occasion. Our thirtieth anniversary has been a very memorable day and this evening just tops it off.
Day 9 – August 2nd (Zurich)
We have a couple of train rides in front of us today. Unfortunately our trip is coming to a close and we have to start making our way back. We are in no hurry this morning as the train doesn’t leave until ten o’clock. Breakfast is very nice once again this morning and the day looks fine. Once we are fed and packed we gather ourselves by the front desk. We ask the innkeeper to call up a taxi for us. We don’t want to start the day hot and sweaty by lugging our bags to the station. He states that yesterday was the hottest day of the year so far for them. The taxi arrives in short order and we are soon off to the station. We find our platform and wait. The train is almost twenty minutes late, but we enjoy the time standing on the outdoor platform and gazing at the mountains. When the train arrives we make sure Mom and Dad sit on the side with the better scenery. The ride is easy and lovely. The route is familiar since we just came up this way two days ago. The views are still remarkable and demand our attention.
Once we get into Innsbruck Dad takes a walk to the Hotel Happ to retrieve some shirts he left there. It is a little after noon and our train doesn’t leave until nearly two, so we have the time. Rhonda, Mom and I take a table at a restaurant just outside the station. We have all of our bags with us so we take up quite a bit of space. We enjoy some cold drinks while waiting for Dad. When he gets back we split into two tables since the bags are taking the extra space at the table we started at. Rhonda and I share an odd grilled chicken salad as a light lunch while we people watch. It is a busy weekday in the downtown area. Being next to the train station and the main bus terminal there are a lot of people going by. We eventually pay our tabs and make our way back into the station. We are getting back on the Spirit of Budapest for the ride to Zurich. When the train pulls into the station I break the wrong way looking for our car. We know the station stops are not long and instead of getting caught going back up the platform we board car 26, which is next to us. We just have to walk through the train back to car 22, where our reserved seats are. When we get there we find somebody at our table. They move to non-reserved seats and we stash our bags for the three and a half hour ride to Zurich.
The day is mostly clear and sunny. That will be a big change from the cloudy and rainy day we had when we passed this way a week ago. Austria, Liechtenstein and Switzerland pass by our window in splendid glory. The lakes are wholly visible along with the mountains that rise behind them. Valleys stretch off into the distance until they are swallowed by mountains. Pretty little towns sit by the lake shores or hang in the high vales. One such town, sitting high up, has a road leading up to it along the mountainside. You can see that a long stretch of the road is protected by a canopy, like a covered bridge. The alpine countryside is beautiful. There is one curious episode as we cross the Rhine River between Liechtenstein and Switzerland. The train slows to cross the bridge over the river. As we get into Switzerland the train stops and then reverses. We backup until we are over the river and out of Switzerland. We sit for quite a while and we begin to speculate on the reasons. Maybe there is a problem and all of our passengers are not welcome in Switzerland. At last the train inches forward and we creep into the station in Buchs. As we sit in the station we see two uniformed men walking through the train definitely looking for someone. Whether their search bore fruit or not we will never know. In a while the train continues on its way and the episode is left behind. We get into the main station in Zurich about five o’clock. The day is still sunny and hot. We have about a half mile walk to the hotel, which is in the old part of town, Altstadt, along the river. The train station is right along the west bank of the Limmat River, so we cross over and walk towards the lake. About halfway down we come to the street we want and walk a block up from the river to find the Hotel Adler.
The Hotel Adler is in the heart of the Altstadt. There is a restaurant on the first floor that specializes in fondue. While we check in the receptionist says that one of the rooms is an upgrade, but she won’t say which. After we get to the rooms we can’t really see any difference, not that it matters anyway. This is the big city and the rooms are all small. Our rooms are next to each other and look out the back of the hotel. The view overlooks an extremely large square through which a couple of the tiny streets pass. The area is filled with plane trees and outdoor seating for several restaurants. We have reservations at Swiss Chuci, which is the restaurant downstairs, in the hotel. We go down early to see if they can take us. Getting in is not a problem, but there is only indoor seating. Inside the restaurant is hot, so much so that I decide that I don’t want to stay. We go out into the evening to see what we can find. We wander for a bit trying to decide on some with outside seating available and then determine to go back towards the hotel and seek out the square our rooms overlook. There is an Italian restaurant just below our window that looks promising and has an open table. We decide to stay and settle in. Each couple shares a meal. Mom and Dad have linguini in tomato sauce while Rhonda and I have a veal cutlet in a lemon sauce. Both are very tasty. The meal stretches on as we sit outside and talk about the trip and enjoy the cooler air outdoors. Mom and Dad experience another first as they share a tiramisu for desert. They have never had it before and where better to try it than an Italian restaurant.
After our extended meal we decide to walk down to the river. The breeze is hiding out there and we linger by the water. A pair of swans comes cruising down the river to greet us along with a couple of ducks. The architecture is old and very picturesque along the water. The streets of the old town are narrow and charming. Zurich is a big city and there is a grittiness that detracts from the charm. Graffiti is in evidence and litter can be seen where we had not noticed it before. While not as bad as what you would see in Chicago, it is still there. Most of the restaurants and shops are inviting and would be pleasant to browse, but there is a higher quotient of sex shops and tattoo parlors which also remind you that you are in a big city. Mom and Dad decide to return to the room as the sun sinks behind the buildings. Rhonda and I want to walk down the river to Lake Zurich. We amble along enjoying the breeze along the river and taking in the town. It is dark by the time we get to the lake and the view from the bridge is pretty. The western sky still holds some blue and the lights glitter off of the water. The old buildings are lit up and the steeples frame the river. Small lights and lanterns that line the banks and bridges add to the magic of the moment. The city shows its beauty at this hour and I am pleased we have taken this walk and could witness it. Everyone who is out this night seems to be strolling along the river, but the sidewalks are wide and it doesn’t feel crowded. It just makes you feel like this is the place to be.
Day 10 – August 3rd (Home)
I slept well after taking a cool shower and setting up the tower fan in the open window. Who knew the Alps could be so hot. It is summer I guess. Breakfast is served in the main restaurant. The place is cozy and is dominated by the wood paneling that is carved very intricately. There are clocks hung around the restaurant as well. One funny incident from breakfast actually comes from a neighboring table. There is a family there with two small children. The smaller of the two children declares to his mother that that he wants to eat a banana “like a monkey” and not cut up. She proceeds to pull the peel down and he contentedly chomps away at it, like a monkey. The fare is tasty and varied. We get checked out and walk back up to the train station. From there we take the same express train to the airport. The train is very crowded, but it is rush hour on a business day. We get to the airport well ahead of our flight and pass through security quickly. The flight home is uneventful save for the friend Rhonda made in the male flight attendant who was playful and helped make the flight more enjoyable.
All in all the trip was a wonderful adventure. While a bit apprehensive regarding the unknown at the start, Mom and Dad grew more comfortable with traveling in a foreign country as the days passed. New experiences abounded and there were no major mishaps. Rhonda and I’s old friend, “the happy accident”, also showed up and enhanced things. The Alps were as gorgeous as I had hoped. History was everywhere and strolling the streets that Mozart and countless others have walked over the centuries is always a treat. I am very happy to have had the opportunity to introduce my parents to Europe and allow them to visit some of the locations they might have thought they would never go. Rhonda and I love to travel and it was a pleasure to share our passion with them.
