Hallstatt to Salzburg

Last night we very much enjoyed an excellent night’s sleep in our lovely bed, but we have noticed that in the hotels we have stayed in, both in Switzerland and Austria, the double beds are always made up of two single beds. Even when the room/bed head would not accommodate two single beds with spaces between, they are two separate beds. Often they have completely separate fitted sheets, which must be a pain to change, and they always have two separate duvets/quilts/doonas. Weird!

See how the bedhead is in two sections? This one has a cover but you can see two separate duvets underneath.

It does make me wonder what things people find strange when they come to Australia.

Despite our room being quite hot last night there was still no cooler option sheet-wise than using either the divested duvet covers or the ornamental spread that covered the whole bed. There was a small Dyson fan but we couldn’t open the windows for a cool breeze as there were no fly screens and, being by a lake, there were plenty of bugs. It feels like a market someone could really capitalise on financially!

There’s two layers of doors and windows, one of which is double-glazed. Excellent for winter but not for summer.

Anyhow, our sleep would’ve been a bit longer but the sun was shining in through the thin white curtains by 5:30am. Fortunately we’re both pretty good at sleeping through daylight. Seeing as how many parts of Europe experience extremely short evenings for at least a quarter of the year, the ineffective curtain situation is also mind boggling. I think I’ve reached the point of the trip where all I’m noticing are problems… sorry! I am actually still really enjoying myself!

Breakfast was a buffet that seemed to be manned by one extremely busy waitress. The selection of food was great and we ended up sitting next to an older American couple who had just finished their fourth biking holiday. They were both retired teachers and we had a good chat about work. One had been a reading teacher and told me how much she had loved the First Steps program, which was developed in Australia.

We left our bags at reception and went to hire a boat!

The small electric boats are hired for 30€ for an hour and it’s a great way to escape the hot streets and noise. Plus I love boats!

We hired one immediately at 11:30am but by the time we got back there was a queue.

The boats have two speeds: slow and stopped. Fine by us, and the electric motor means the lake is very quiet. The town has signs up asking people to keep the noise down and not play music on the street. Also there were signs about not flying drones but we saw one in the air just before we left.

As we had some time before the ferry back to the train, we went back to the hotel and had a drink on the deck.

Several staff members remembered us from the night before and I got to ask one of them about living and working in such a tourist town.

He said they often work 12+ hour shifts and the hotel they work for provides accommodation if they want it nearby, but it does cost them money to stay there. He rents a place in a nearby town and travels to Hallstatt.

He said people in the village had mixed opinions on the value of the tourism and the vast number of visiting cultures had changed the nature of the place, with some people taking photos through peoples’ windows and being more invasive and pushy. Right after he said this a family came in and immediately demanded a particular table, an umbrella (in a huge concrete stand) be moved and then they plonked themselves down despite the manager of the restaurant saying she couldn’t accommodate them.

It’s almost incomprehensible to me, with my reticent Anglo cultural heritage, to argue and demand something in a business then sit down and be perfectly comfortable with people I’ve just upset serving me food and drink. I’d just leave, but according to my Watching the English book, that’s not a trait everyone shares and I guess maybe there’s something to be said for being so much more bold…?

Watching the manager deal with the situation was quite something. She was a very dynamic and direct person, and she came to our table soon after. We told her we admired how well she did her job.

It must be quite the challenge to deal with people from all over the world, all with their own ideas of what is appropriate, what is polite and how to behave. Businesses in such places seem to do all they can to manage people effectively, but when people don’t speak the language (ourselves included, obviously!) it’s not hard for things to go wrong or get very confused. The restaurant had a sign in German and English asking people to wait to be seated but a lot of people just walked right in and sat at a table.

After our drinks we headed to the ferry landing next to the hotel. This might be the smallest non-chihuahua breed I’ve ever seen.

We caught the ferry back across the lake.

It was quite hot inside but better than being on the back of the ferry in the direct sun.

We’d booked dinner and a show in the evening, not thinking about the train cancellations and travel time but it worked out fine.

We sat on the scenic side of the train this time. Apparently the water in this lake is drinking quality!

We took a taxi from the station in Salzburg to our Airbnb place in the old town.

This is the building entrance, not our front door. Pretty imposing though!

The kitchen, note the fold out table and folding chairs and the complete lack of room if you chose to use them.

The kitchen is so tiny it reminds me of our Camden flat but the lounge and bedroom are quite spacious. We would’ve really appreciated all this room when there were four of us!

The flat has windows on two opposite sides so the evening breeze is nice but the amount of noise from people walking past is quite high. The stone walls of the buildings means that it echoes a lot. Also there are no fly screens and the owner had left the windows open so there were heaps of flies zooming around.

Still, the mattress is decent and it’s nice to have cooking facilities and a washing machine.

We had a lie down for an hour then changed for our dinner and classical music evening at the St Peter Stifskulinarium, the oldest restaurant in the world.

How old??

It’s been in operation since at least 803 AD. 1220 years!

It’s huge too, over 600 seats in 11 rooms. All the rooms are different colours and themes. The main restaurant looks like this:

We had a drink here before the show, which was in a large room upstairs. Parts of the restaurant are carved straight into the cliff face.

One the way to our concert we saw some pretty amazing wallpaper.

Also some fancy lighting fixtures.

Our concert room was more traditional.

We were sat at a table with two lovely ladies, one from Delhi, one from New York, who had become friends because their husbands were childhood friends and now they go on trips without the husbands! I love that! These lovely ladies told us about an organ performance that happens at the cathedral each day at midday so we said we might see them there.

The concert was all Mozart, mostly songs from operas but some instrumental pieces. There were only two singers, one man and one woman, and they were quite incredible! The volume and notes they could reach were something I don’t think I’ve heard in person before.

I do wish there’s been more instrumental pieces though, they were Luke’s and my favourite.

A very interesting way of laying the table!

The only food I photographed was the dessert, nockerl, a local dish that I think is supposed to represent three mountains. It is served with raspberry sauce underneath and basically tastes like undercooked meringue, very sweet and soft.

A short walk home afterwards and straight to bed, although it was still warm inside. We opened up the windows for some airflow but noisy passers-by meant closing them, then putting in my noise-cancelling earplugs and playing rain sounds.

In the morning (6:30ish) a sewerage truck parked almost under our window and ran some kind of pipe down every sewerage line in the area for about two hours with a loud motor running. Not our best night’s sleep!

Tomorrow: the cathedral concert and back to our new favourite coffee shop. Also, lavender flavoured cheese!

22May2023

Keswick: Ashness Bridge, Walla Crag and Castlerigg Stone Circle.

by Miss Penny Black

After realising last night that we were, in fact, not leaving Keswick on the following day, we decided on a plan. We were going to catch the lake ferry to Ashness Bridge and walk back to town via Walla Crag, a walk none of us had done and which seemed reasonably straightforward.

The walk from our apartment to the landing was short and we bought tickets (a steal at £2.70 each) and I took some snaps of the very photogenic row boats.

The boat ride was short but scenic.

We alighted at the first landing and walked the step road climb to Ashness Bridge. I’ve been there twice before, also on overcast days, so if my photos look very familiar that’s why. Or you’ve seen this bridge on the cover of a box of Derwent pencils.

There were a few people around but these girls had decided to have their meal break right in front of the bridge and get in the way of everyone’s photos, which was kind of annoying.

Still, the time of day and light was much better this time. Here’s my very shady photo from 2018.

We were a bit less organised today and Mark, who said he wasn’t in charge, had the route marked out on his phone. We decided to take the path that didn’t look very steep.

Through this harmless-looking, and therefore misleading, gate.

But then it got STEEP!

It’s really hard to capture steepness in a photo, but I had to use my hands on the rocks, the surface was loose gravel and there were blackberry canes, nettles and roses everywhere, which made it all a bit challenging. Mark and Sue leapt to the top like mountain goats while everyone else got caught up behind me. To be honest, if I’d been on my own I probably wouldn’t have done it but, after a couple of uncertain moments, we got up higher where the path levelled out.

Maybe, instead of anaesthetic, in hospitals they could save money and just show people photos of amazing views because it seems to make me immediately forget all the suffering I’ve endured.

Feeling the serenity. We did actually manage to hear a cuckoo today too!

From up high we could see the fell we walked yesterday.

We saw a bird of prey and our eyes could see more detail than this terrible image shows. We think it might have been a honey buzzard.

An unusual stile design to get to Lady’s Rake above Walla Crag.

Lea loves it when I take photos of her unawares.

The back of Walla Crag is a wide moor space that is very open and covered in heather. My favourite sort of landscape, it sweeps up to some higher fells and I was dying a little inside knowing that it will have wait until next time but I guess it’ll always be there.

After a while admiring the view we headed down again.

Past a field with some fell ponies and down a long hill.

After a bit of a sit at the stone circle (which I have also photographed before… by now you may be wondering why I’m even bothering to rephotograph all these places.

When we got to the bus stop Mark and Sue decided to walk back the 30 minutes while the rest of us waited for the bus. Which, in the manner of buses everywhere, failed to arrive.

Oh well, Luke messaged Mark and they were at the pub along the way so we joined them at the…

After a drink and toilet stop we walked back to the apartment for a late lunch bite and rest before dinner.

Mark was the taxi for the evening and, as there were six of us, had to take us in two shifts to a pub in the village of Braithwaite. The pub was Mark and Sue’s recommendation.

Always nice to see the pour over the line.

Cheese sauce with garlic mushrooms on garlic bread – I’m including this photo to remind me to make this at home.

Pork belly, or ‘belly pork’ according to the waiter.

Unfortunately our lovely dinner was ruined by Luke and I sharing the news that we don’t separate coloured and white items in our laundry and I’m not sure the conversation really recovered.

Tomorrow we check out at 10 and have three hours to fill before we can check in at our Buttermere accommodation. The next place we are staying is much more remote than any of the previous so we need to pick up supplies, with cheese and wine at the top of the list!

4May2018

A Day In Coniston

by Miss Penny Black

The guidebook I bought for the Lake District years ago did not have nice things to say about Coniston. It basically implied it was a tiny mining village with little to offer. Times must have changed if property prices are any to go by.

One of the main intersections in Coniston.

Actually Coniston has a number of historic pubs, beautiful views, a useful range of shops and most of the accommodation, if booking.com is anything to go by, isn’t cheap. A lot of the houses in the village are built of stone and have that dark, brooding gravitas that slate lends to a place. I really like it.

I decided, on my one full day here, to go for a boat ride around the lake then go and look at Brantwood, the home of John Ruskin. The only other person staying at the pub is an American fellow who is an historian with an interest in John Ruskin so he told me a little at breakfast and then I ended up seeing him at Brantwood later in the day.

I walked down the hill to the lake and did a little Facebook live video while I waited for the boat and went for a walk. Being a teacher, I’m perfectly happy to drone on at length about nothing in particular, although I did find myself talking about socks and wondering if anyone was still listening. When I listened back to it I realised the wind noise was unbearable but lesson learned, I will do them indoors or on still days from now on.

I had meant to go on the steam boat but this was the only one there when I got to the dock.

I was the only passenger on the boat so I had a private tour and enjoyed asking lots of questions and getting a more personal insight into the area. We motored past the island that features in Swallows and Amazons, which is a series of children’s books and two movies and is apparently a big deal even though I hadn’t heard of it until I read my guide book. I have downloaded the first book though and will read it next.

The boat dropped me off at Brantwood, which is almost directly opposite Coniston on the other side of the lake. It’s a group of buildings where John Ruskin spent the last few decades of his life. He was a great thinker, writer, artist, poet… basically a Victorian renaissance man. He went mad in his later years and it sounded a lot like bi-polar to me. The video introduction, that the man at the front desk insisted we watch, was a bit odd. Apart from having weirdly dramatic synth music playing over the top, it completely neglected to mention any female or non-famous person’s presence in JR’s life. I came away wondering if he’d ever married, which of course was a tip-off that his relationship was scandalous and not entirely happy. The gift shop had lots of books on his wife and her achievements but I didn’t investigate. Really, I was here for the gardens and wallpaper.

He designed this wallpaper himself and JR was a big supporter of my favourite art movement, the Pre Raphaelites.

The inside of the house was lovely although insanely creaky. No creeping up on anyone here!

The views from from the windows were stunning in every direction. Forest on one side, lake on the other.

The grounds were supposed to have areas with distinct themes but mainly they were semi-wild with a few bluebells and ferns. From the dock to the buildings was better maintained but I dare say it’s one of those National Trust places where the income doesn’t really cover the upkeep of everything.

John Ruskin’s chair. Surprisingly comfortable in angle but I can only assume he took a cushion or two.

Several people had touted the cafe and it was indeed very nice. I had a carrot and honey soup. After the oversized breakfast at the hotel, soup seemed like a good choice on a cold and relatively sedate day.

All in all a very pleasant day where I learned, looked and listened. My feet and shoulders enjoyed the break and by evening I felt almost ready to tear myself away from the cloud-like comfort of my bed at The Sun. Onwards and upwards tomorrow!