Weiz, Vienna and back to NZ

Weiz, Vienna and home to NZ

This was our guides' home town so we were expecting a local flavour to the end of the trip. As our Hotel Christina was run by the local bakery immediately below our room so we looked forward to great breakfasts too. The first night here we found there was a celebration going on as part of the 'Sommerfest' where all the locals joined in with several bands playing modern music. Young and old were all out in force until late drinking up large and smoking non-stop. Most of the bars and restaurants have 'non-smoking' rooms where our group usually piled in to escape the ubiquitous drifting smoke, in fact one owner was very apologetic as he was offering us a non smoking room, which was greatfully accepted.

Denise and I wandered the crammed streets listening to some really spot on rock'n'roll, usually English. I had to drag Denise back from the brink of dancing when Neil Diamonds 'Sweet Caroline' was played in full force, and an authentic Irish band (manned by locals) played some pretty good ballads in a wonderful Irish lilt, though sounded weird when the intersong banter was all in gutteral German.

We did have a great breakfast though not as many croissants and strudels as we would have wished for. Camp leader had noticed we snaffled the odd extra one for lunch and mentioned it wasnt the done thing, so bad luck for us this time.

The walk today was amogst the high forested, rolling hills of rural Weiz district, known as the 'Alm' prefecture. Its famous because of the pasture fed, organically produced cattle that are raised here, the best in Europe, trademarked as Alm oxen. Sounds similar to NZ beef to me ! Ticks were mentioned as being prevalent along the trail, presumably also with the Alm trademark. Chalet style cafe with all the bells and whistles in the middle of nowhere, Bier und bratwurst, strudel und kuchen. After our typically gross ( = big) meals Denise alone decides to have cake, fortunately the piece cut for her was enough for half our group, with the rest sufficiently impressed to have another couple of pieces to divide amogst everyone else. We waddled to our next stop atop a bitterly cold windy hill beside a power windturbine where I think Silvana took pity on us and ordered a couple of taxi vans to take us home.

Storks put up outside a house where a new born baby has arrived.

Meal was in the Purple Room (non smoking in the back corner) across the road in a Restaurant, though quite a few of our group choosing to wait for the stomach to subside somewhat before cramming more in.

Next day was a walk up to the Gasthof (=guesthouse) with buildings on site since the1300s, originally the residence of the local Lord of the Manor. There was also an impressive cathedral to look at. It was celebrating 100 years as a family run Hotel, Conference center etc. Had the Ompah band playing in the garden along with 100 guests and kiwi gate-crashers. Rained so off inside to hear lots of incomprehensible speeches and many awards awarded to very deserving recipients Im sure. Beer was great and the Wurst sausages even better. The interlopers (us) even got a mention as we stood out like sore thumbs in a txtg competition. More waddling got us home , followed in the afternoon by a walk in the forest to our Guides Aunts house 5 or 6 km away. Wonderful lady of 87 provided us home baking, drinks and a tour of a very old original farmhouse on their property. Last meal together was authentic Austrian, a platter with a selection of cold meats, bread, and excellent cider.

Mozart at the Vienna Concert Hall

Next day was departure day to Vienna. End of the tour already, 3 weeks had just whipped by with an always interesting schedule and a very agreeable and compatible bunch of people.

Early bus to Graz, with a quick goodbye to Silvana and we were on our own. The umbilical cord had been officially cut, albeit we did have pretty specific instructions to get to our hotal (Lucia) in Vienna. All but one were flying out from there, most with a couple of days sight-seeing, us just the afternoon. So we zipped down town to find it buzzing with tourists, mostly American, looking around in wide-eyed wonder at the Austrian architecture all around them, and feasting on scrumptious pastries. We caught the two hour tour of the sights which was quite impressive - a lot of history here. Managed to get back to our hotal just in time to catch up with 3 others of our group, negotiated the underground to the Vienna Concert Hall to listen to a professional Viennese orchestra play mostly Mozart and a little Strauss to our uneducated ears. Acoustics and musicianship were excellent and it was a special concert which enjoyed enormously by all, the evening finished off superbly by hot chocolate and tiramisu at a streetside cafe.
In the morning we packed, then spotted a 'coiffure' over the road from the hotel so called in for a quick haircut. Dodgy little place smelling of smoke and cheap perfume. Didnt help when a small black insect crawled from the combs over the bench and up the mirror. Did a decent job of the cut but time will tell of any additional fauna that might be imported to NZ.

Underground and train to Vienna International Airport then off on the arduous journey home. Auf wiedersehn Austria, we shall return! (as long as I dont get headlice)

Dolomites in Northern Italy and Stubaital Valley,Austria

Selva Wolkenstein, Northen Italy then Stubai Valley, Austria

Gathered everyone early for the trip to Selva Wolkenstein in the South Tyrol, from Monte Bondone. Paulo the owner again took us down and down to Trento where we waited for a coach to take us to our destination. Large 44 seater all to ourselves, very nice. 2 hour journey beside tumbling glacial rivers, then through verdant valleys planted with grapes and the odd medieval castle to enhance the Rhine look. Hotel Europa ( 2 star) in the little village of Selva Wolkenstein, with balcony views to the mountains left, right and in front. Sorted out the washing line and we were ready to roll.
The town was a mixture of Italian and Austrian, but the buildings and scenery was very Swiss really. Mussolini etc tried to Italianise this area but it remains very Germanic. Had a stroll to St Christina, 3km down a disused railway track and back. Very scenic, hard work on the return though which I suspect was good training for the ensuing days.
Next day was the cable car to Langkofel Peak, of which we had a semi cirmcumnavigation. Bigger than it looks on the map (funny that) so the group settled on a 1/3rd the way round with a couple of beer and apfelstrudl stops on the way. On the way down my right boot decided 20 years was sufficent and the sole parted company with the rest of the boot. The cafe owner came up with some insulation tape and Denise expertly applied a figure of eight over the front half of the boot to enable me to descend in safety.
The meals here consisted of an appetiser, primi, secondi and dessert, sounds great and it is except primi & secondi are basically 2 main meals. All paid for so difficult to say no to! Our collective weight has increased considerably again so if we are unrecognisable on return you will know why. Which reminds me I must get a haircut.

Took a while with my limited German but we found a Schuemacher (cobbler) to fix my boot early the next day, so despite a little confusion as to whether its 80 or 8 euro we leave it to him and on to the next destination. Col Raiser is a large skiing basin set far above the valley floor, no snow here as they have warm summers (30deg today), but plenty of walking to skirt the edges and admire the scree slopes and tarns around us. Long day in the heat but manage to get back for my now fully functioning boot before he closes (8 euro) and home for another gut bulger of an evening meal. I notice Denise has become rather partial to the European beer which is probably due to 1. warm temperatures and 2. no Jim Beam. Not neccesarily in that order.

Our next excursion is a bus trip to the Valley of Stubaital, via Innsbruck in Austria.
We travel via Innsbruck, then up a side valley some 23km away to the village of Neustift. Typically Austrian Pensione we are in, a retired mountain climbing couple ( he has climbed Matterhorn 19 times) looking after us in their 3 storey house in the Alps of Austria. The farmers are furiously getting in the hay and silage from the steep slopes all around us, above which are the conifers which stretch up until they give way to the 3500m rocky peaks above.
When a little cooler (well 25deg) wewalked down past the farmers houses and barns with the cows tucked up inside, for 3 km to the village of Neder, returning via a fabulous eatery (Grobenhof) perched on the hillside overlooking the rural scene below. No English on the menu so its good luck as to whether you enjoy your choice or not. Some people had goat, very palatable they said.
Another morning without a cloud in the sky, we set out in the local bus to Sulzenau, a mountain hut in a hanging valley in the far reaches of Stubaital Valley. Takes about an hour and half to reach the valley up a steep trail in the conifers, suddenly opening out into a valley of eden with waterfalls crashing down from upon high. After a quick bite in an alpen cafe with carved wooden figures (long winters here obviously), 3 of us descend to see if we can get back for a tandem paraglide in Neustift while the others continue up to another yet higher hut. When we get back though, the winds are too strong - maybe tomorrow! However at last I get on the Internet at a cafe, officially renamed the Grumpy Mole Saloon due to the Fraus with an attitude running the place. They keep demanding I buy bier, which I am happy to oblige.
Raining the next day so we head off to Innsbruck for a look around the old city and to make some much needed purchases. I keep telling Denise we have officially run out of room but her answer is to buy more bags!
Shoot back to Neustift to check the 'tandemflug' to find the other two had already had their flight, so I scampered down to see whats happening. Yes fly now OK ! So up on the gondola for an exhilerating glide down the valley for 20 minutes or so, videoing what I can ( actually I accidently taped mostly my leg) when I can, and Denise getting the landing on camera. Great stuff.

Joined the whole group for nibbles then a meal out where Denise had beef soup and I tried the goat, a bit like chinese stir fry without the chinese bit. A fellow paraglider, Ralph, tried nettle soup which he pronounced as completely inedible, but otherwise everyone is experimenting and enjoying the local cuisine, beer and wine.
Early the next day hopped on the internet for a quick update. Caught the local bus then train to Salzburg, Graz and ending up in Weiz. Long day with a couple of changes which increased when one train was late and we missed the connection. Austria Rail had it sorted and we caught up at a later station, although lugging our groaning packs around is not a task for the fainthearted.

Italy

Italy - Cinque Terre, Lucca, Pisa and Monte Bondone in the Dolomites

Our train ride from Zermatt to the Italian coast is a long one, hauling our now overweight packs plus day bags from pillar to post and back. 3 train changes to succesively smaller and less modern trains, including the melee in Milan with hundreds of Italians milling around in organised (maybe) chaos. We followed our intrepid guide as she made her way gallantly across platforms and up and down access ways to our required destination.
Finally found our way to Vernazza, one of the five (= cinque) fishing villages on the picturesue coast just south of Genoa. It is a UNESCO site world heritage site, with the five olde world towns clinging to the cliffs surrounding a breakwater protecting a few small fishing boats.
The last train ride was interesting . A large group of French touristes advancing on our position on the train platform, directed by a flag waving guide who seemed very concerned about giving her troops the most advantageous position on the platform. The old enemy was back and neither side were taking prisoners. We placed our lugagge strategically to prevent any further incursions and held firm until the train raced in and screeched to a halt in front of us. We quickly grabbed our luggage and tried to board the train. So did the French, unfortunately with no luggage they were able to get the jump on us but with a little elbow etiquette and urgently passing the bags up we all squeezed on, held our breath, and were all consequently disgorged at the next stop 3 minutes later at Vernazza.

Vernazza is a little town revelling in the influx of tourists, Italian and otherwise. We made our way down the cobbled streets to the quay where our hotel was waiting. It is set in a series of restored old houses which creep up the cliff. Our rooms could be anywhere, unfortunately ours are up a series of steep steps requiring a wrestling match with bags to get them up to our room.Over the back of the hotel terrace we can hear the surf pounding the cliffs directly below. Such a great place, although lifts would certainly assist overweight and over baggaged antipodean tourists!
Breakfast is scrumptious pastries, freshly squeezed orange juice and 'cafe americano' at a sicilian bakery just out of town. The over friendly owner could 'talk the leg off an iron pot' as Denise would say, but all is forgiven for a great breakfast.
First day outing we took the train to Corniglia and walked back to Vernazza. Its the old track which used to be the only connection between the four towns, going up a couple of hundred metres at times on a cliff edge track. Magic coming down on Vernazza from on high seeing it nestled in the cove. After lunch we caught the train to the furtherest point of Riomaggiore then walked between the towns of Riomaggiore and Manarola, caught the train to the northernmost town of Montorosso.One part of the track was the 'love track' a short 2km section where couples had locked in padlocks onto the fences to ensure everlasting love. Very popular but highly illogical.Montorosso is more of your average Italian beachside village, complete with Gelato, private beaches, umbrellas and sun loungers packed in tightly. The worst part of the beach naturally reserved for the non paying public. Nevertheless a fun place, though one shop we wandered into the high strung manageress was in the process of thowing a bewildered american out of the shop. When talking to her she took offence at nothing and started getting very excited, she sure was a flighty Italian, though in NZ I suspect being considered manic would be more a appropriate diagnosis. We had a beer and tapas in one bar, then found a great Pizza place in a back street bar, eventually sorting out a train back to Vernazza. Balmy temperatures,hot pizza and cold beer make for a great night.
Another early morning train out of Vernazza to Montorossa where a small bus tookus a couple of hours drive to the old world Roman city of Lucca. We have a hotel ( Piccolo Puccini) inside the old city where cars are not allowed so we lug a packs inside past 15th and 16th century houses and cobbled streets to our hotel. 2nd floor in a renovated ( it shows) apartment block. We zip out to Pisa on a train, which is 20 minutes away, to take all the obligatory leaning photos, and bus back.

Julie , Denises cousin, is working in Pisa as a teacher so we arrange for her to come over the next night for a meal. Day time was a bus/walk to a vineyard, lengthened somewhat by our bus driving completely in the wrong direction for half an hour, a walk in the stifling heat for a couple of hours around rural tracks followed by wine and olive oil tasting. Back late for Julie waiting patiently in the hotel. Kiwi accents she hadnt heard for 3 months coming through the door and she knew we had arrived.
Out for tea to the original roman amphitheatre, not a trace survived but it was hereabouts somewhere! Anyway had a very average meal ( give me back street tavernas anytime) , enjoyed a gelato on the way to the train station to find the last train to Pisa had long departed. Ducked over to the bus station but no luck there either. Getting late ( and tired) by now so back to our hotel for a think. We decided to come clean with the manager and see if she could bunk with us for the night. 'no room, no room' which was a bit disheartening until he said she would have to sleep in our room on a spare mattress. Excellent result. She hardly snored and didnt complain too much about no fan. Early start to the station for the 6.53am to Pisa whilst Denise and I did the 5 km circuit of the massive defensive Roman -Medieval walls which surround Lucca.

Had a leisurely morning wandering the shops then after pizza (what else) lunch in an old square near where Puccini lived we caught the train to Trento. Bit of a mission, bags in a couple of taxis with me looking after the luggage at the train station whilst the others walked out of the old town to the railway. Bit of a dodgy place if someone had whipped off with sometthing I couldnt really leave the rest to chase after them. No probs though with everyone turning up safe and sound in a few minutes.

Dolomites, Italy

Long trip up into Northern Italy and the Dolomites to Trento. Much cooler here now in the mountains with a glacier fed river running through town. Paulo the owner from our hotel Monto Bondono picked us all up and bussed us  halfway up a mountain to his ski lodge. Fabulous view of the Valley way below and the road twisting and turning on its way up. Every year there is a car rally from Trento to the top pass, must be an amazing spectacle although Paulo tells us it is a drinkfest rather than sportsfest.
Three Peaks trip the next day which we are informed is the hardest on the trip entailing some serious climbing. A couple of us turned back high up but Denise did very well and got to the top. Returned to Monte Bondono for a high class meal with great wine from the local vineyards. Had a walk early next morning through a forest trail with the white dolomite rocks strewn over the path and trees appearing to grow directly out of the rocky terrain. Glimpses of distant peaks and craggy cliffs in the haze through the trees complete the picture.
Next stop Selva Wolkenstein in the Val Gardena Valley in southern Austria where Winter Olympics are either due to be held or have been held, not sure which but plenty of snow in winter either way.