Presently having a break at Arthurhaus, eating a Bavarian cold meat and cheese plate accompanied by a half litre of their (current) finest – Stiegl. It’s lunchtime. More on this soon but first let me retrace our steps several months.
Some context seems appropriate given Europe 1.0 was still in swing as recently as twelve months ago. Why am I back and how did that pass through supply?
After waxing lyrical to the old man about Europe, European Cities (in particular Amsterdam) and European beer (ok, the old man is no longer capacious in that area; but they do also have red wine), a seed was sown! The old man got ruminating and subsequently digested a decision that it might be an opportune time to visit the place of his birth (the Netherlands) and I magnanimously offered to accompany him (as in the true sense of the word magnanimous, I felt his wherewithal was inferior to mine).
A birth certificate from The Hague and an official translation later Tony had a passport and a ticket to ride from the old dear (who couldn’t quite clear her domestic duties calendar sufficiently enough to join us).
Roll forward to September 10 and we present ourselves at Tullamarine airport for a flight to München via Abu Dhabi; somewhat disappointingly the strip searches I promised the old man didn’t eventuate (I even asked).
I know, I know; München! It ain’t in the Netherlands but as self-appointed tour director I was keen on a few tangents before we hit the mother country (let’s face it the old man is the only Dutch bloke I know that doesn’t eat cheese, drink beer or see the red light district as a potential opportunity). We firstly needed some distraction.
München international airport, 0645 hours, as fresh as a week old ikebana arrangement. Still an hour train ride away from the city. Like good German engineering, an hour and twenty minutes later we are at our pension, which could have been a horse stable or dog box and we would still have been appreciative of the opportunity to catch up on a few hours sleep – our first in 24 hours.
Local Gasthaus for dinner and fermented ales. Retired, a bit like Smithy after some Archer chin music.
How do you spend a day in München? After consulting the d’fino brothers we opted for a tram ride to Schloss Nymphenburg (read old Uber palace), a return ride to Marienplatz (read old buildings, tourists and local kraut) and the Hofbrauhaus (read beer, old building, trolleyed tourists and even more trolleyed kraut).
Return to the local Gasthaus for dinner and fermented ales (no tourists here, we would be a novelty if anyone could understand us (hopefully there is not a theme emerging here as such levity and hedonism is far from what we are about, well, not that far).
Surprisingly, I haven’t yet used the words kaput and schnell yet; but I will as I don’t want my classical German to get rusty!
Weather – perfect!
Now we commence our raison d’être in earnest; but first a klasse 1 train ride to Salzburg, a bus trip to Berchtesgaden and a further bus trip to Konigssee (home of the beautiful lake of same name). We will be peripatetic for a week, on foot in the Bavarian Alps.
We start this journey in magnificent weather and surroundings by walking parts of the lake shore and taking in the quintessential alpine surrounds, minus snow but with be-flowered chalets, verdant pastures and bovine campanologists. Our lovely pension provides light to heavy sustenance for such an endeavour.
Tour day 2: This is a shuttle to Ramsau and then a walk to Hintersee (mountain lake) and on to the border, where James Coburn style we cross and make our way from Germany into Austria.
Through hills, pastures and along (somewhat dry) water courses and mountainous vistas we end up at Seisenbergklamm, a wonderful gorge traversed via raised wooden walk ways that give us a close hand view of the almighty power of nature. A simply wonderful way to finish off a 17km walk. We pension at the quaint Landgastof in Weibach, which mercifully but not unsurprisingly serves fine food and refreshments. Weather – perfect!
Tour day 3. A shuttle to Hintermoos (had to laugh here because the old man thought the corpulent driver was, at best, a day to day proposition) sees us climb continuously for some three hours to a mountain pass. At some point in the first hour I reckon the old man was questioning the efficacy of this folly. But the sumptuous weather, mountain views and overall scenery (enjoyed in absolute peace) reminded him of our raison d’être and to be fair he rallied well (though at one point I did have to relent and carry my own pack).
We end up on a different track to that suggested by the tour notes but nonetheless make the Salzburger Inn comfortably, albeit a bit leg weary after 14km. The Salzburger was very enthusiastic is supplying recuperative tinctures. Weather – perfect.
Tour day 4. Soft option, a bus to Erichhutte; hard option, a six km steady climb to Erichhutte – and that’s to just start the walk. At this juncture I reminded the old man of his credo – no short cuts, no soft options! As I got on the bus I suggested that everyone’s credo wasn’t the same but I was prepared to travel with his pack if he wasn’t up to carrying it, and I’d wait at Erichhutte just in case he needed Euros for refreshment. After an exchange of words I was embarrassed into also taking the hard option!
Through the quaint town of Dienten, over pastures, along a river and via a forest we made our way upward to the alpine clearing containing Erichhutte. Elevation, some 1,500m. Most of the way we have a view of the imperious Mt Hockonig and it’s surrounding minions. We take on food and water at Erichhutte (in the form of an excellent slab of blueberry cake and an elixir of orange juice – funnily enough Eric had no schnapps on offer – must be the emergency services’ day off and Eric wasn’t prepared to risk it).
We walk underneath Mt Hockong along roughly the same contour; so not much up and down and we relax into a rhythm for a two hour walk to Vier Hutten (more refreshment – apricot cake this time). An hour and a bit later and we arrive at our pension for the next two nights, Arthurhaus. Mt Hockonig is ever looking down on us and asking if that’s all we’ve got! Around 16kms today. Weather – perfect.
To be fair, these Baravians know hospitality and they find two eager recipients in the old man and the scion.
So we arrive at the rest day but ponder if a short walk is in order. I remind the old man of my correspondent duties and here I sit in the lounge of the Arthurhaus, this produced after coffee and cake, and the aforementioned plate and beer. So ist das Leben!
