Munich to Magdeburg changes the scenery

Bernd must be really really quiet in the mornings. We didn't even stir when he got up and it is 7:40 am when we finally rise. Not wanting to disturb Ricki and Charlotte we creep in to the bathroom and have quick showers so that it is free when the little family needs it later.

By the time we come out, Ricki is up and we hear Charlotte gurgling in their bedroom. A much happier little girl this morning. They live on the top of an apartment block about 20 minutes walk from the Sendlinger Tor where we were last week. The apartment is large and airy with huge exposed beams and lots and lots of light. It looks out over the rooftops and onto the statues high on a neighbouring church.

And guess what? From here in the centre of Munich, on a clear day, they can actually see the Alps over a hundred kilometres away. And today is one of those clear days! It is an amazing view. They are currently looking for another apartment on a lower floor. This one is at the top of four flights of stairs and it is hard with the little one and any bags or other stuff. I think though that there is much about this one that they will miss when they finally find another.

So its Michael's turn this morning to do the baker dash. He returns with a great assortment of rolls - oh, how we will miss the European breads. Ricki has set out fresh cheeses and meats including some amazing hard goats cheese that they bought from a farm in Italy. Then there are the jams that includes her own peach jam made this summer. Mmm very nice Ricki - well done! We linger, just chatting.

Charlotte is tired after her restless night and so she is put back for a nap. This gives us time to have a look at Ricki and Bernd's wedding photos - looks like it was a great and fun day, even if it very unseasonally snowed. Here in Germany they usually have two services. The compulsory civil service that is generally a smaller ceremony and then if wanted a church service with the big she-bang party. And surprisingly, often these are held many months apart. Ricki and Bernd were married on 17 October and will have their church service next May! Anyway, she was a beautiful, radiant bride and Bernd looks as though he was bursting with pride. Then came the Charlotte photos and we of course reciprocated with the Izabella photos! Of, and of the other family members too (he he he). It was nice to have the Long Island photos from our trip there all together just before we left on this big adventure of ours.

We had checked on Earth Google for the time estimation for the next leg of the trip to Madgeburg - 4 hours 46 minutes. Kate however estimates it at 5 hours 32 minutes! Egads. We don't get away until 12:45 pm, so it could be a latish arrival, and after dark.
But the trip is uneventful and the roadworks must be nearing completion as our trip was about 5 hours. On the autobahn we do travel a little faster than normal at around 130-135 kph, but it is false economy to go too fast too long - the car just gulps. I guess though, that if you are driving the latest big BMW or Merc 4WD or the latest Porsche or Mazzerati (saw 2!) going well over 200 kph then the least of your concerns is the cost of fuel!!

We travel in and out of rain, through forests and over rolling hills. This more northern part of Germany is just as picturesque as the southern areas, even if the landscape is more 'sedate'! The late autumn afternoons have a wonderful light to them that makes the deepening skys glower while the colours of the season beneath them just shine out. A little further en-route this power plant with its huge concrete towers is caught by the last rays of the sun as if to scream at it (and us!) "use your brains, solar is clean energy!". It sure sticks out like a sore thumb on the horizon!

We make Barleben just outside Madgeburg just before 6pm, although it is well and truly dark by now. The Hotel Scahen-Anhalt lies just off the motorway and is handy for a visit not only to the water bridge but also to see more of Madgeburg. The room is a nice size and they have a lovely restaurant that is quite busy. We agonised over our selections, but not for long!!
Entrees:
Geräucherte Entenbrust an Orangen – Ingwerkompott und marinierten Blattsalaten (Smoked duck breast on orange-ginger compote and marinated leaf salads) Michael
Kürbiscremesüppchen mit gerösteten Kürbiskernen (Crème of pumpkin soup with fried pumpkin seeds) Maria
Mains:
Geschmorter Rehkeulenbraten an Apfelrotkohl dazu reichen wir hausgemachte Schmelzklößchen (Braised leg of venison joint with red cabbage with apple and potatoe dumplings) Michael
Schlemmerpfanne a la Stroganoff vom Schweine und Rinderfilet mit Spätzle (Pan with fillet of pork and beef refined with onions and sour cream, served with Swäbian noodles) Maria
Desserts:
Feiner Quarkstrudel mit Zimteis (Delicate cheese strudel with cinnamon ice cream) Michael
Pfannkuchen mit Himbeer-Püree und frischem Obst (Pancake with raspberry puree and fresh fruits) Maria

The hills are calling

Not sure what it is about the mountains, but they do call us. Maybe it is because we choose to live on one of the flattest continents - in a city without a single hill let alone a mountain. Today we are heading north into the Italian Alps. I want to try to find the little, well actually it was huge, church that we first saw as we made a very brief foray into Italy (so Mum could say she had been to Italy) in 2006. At that time, we had just come down the Brenner Pass from Innsbruck in Austria and found ourselves looking for the church whose bell tower we could see from high up the mountains.

There is no reason for us to hurry so Kate is taking through those back roads that Helen loved to hate! Ah yes, off the motorways. Up and over the hills and far far away. Round and round the mountain. And up it. And down them too. In this part of the world it is so easy to see how that borders are nothing more than administrative lines on a map. The landscape crosses them, the architecture crosses them and the cuisine just ignores them. We could just as easily be in Switzerland, Austria, or France that all abut this mountain range.

So we head away from Silea driving towards the north. The day is as hazy as any we have encountered to date. In fact, this is one of the things we will most remember about Italy. Our journey takes us through the outskirts of Treviso, passing through residential and commercial areas. It seems that there are quite a few historic sites here as well if the brown tourist signs are any indication. But we won't stop as it will take us 4 and a half hours to get to Brennero. Just outside town though we pass one of those 'what the?' sights! There is one of those large restaurants with an even larger carpark. It is called Gargantua and features this unusual statue encompassing the entry. Michael is delighted - he knows the story of this giant well. In fact until recently had a copy of the book of five stories written about the legendary giants Gargantua and Pantagruel! Strange what you see. And where you see it!!

And Treviso and its surrounding towns seem to be the home of the outlet malls. There are advertising hoardings littering the road that tout for business for all sorts of goods - many are for sporting goods. Turns out, this part of the world is crazy for winter and summer mountain sports. We push on behind heavy traffic until we turn off onto those smaller country roads and head up into the mountains.

This is a stunning part of the world. Just as breath-taking as the alps of France or even Switzerland. This is the land of the Dolomites and their adjacent mountains. The roads twist and turn often almost back on themselves as you weave your way higher and higher. We are again using the low gears, something we have not needed to do for the last couple of weeks. In fact, we are travelling for about an hour without getting past 3rd gear! At Feltre, there is a stunning memorial. We are not sure what to, the inscription is not very clear. It appears that it could be a memorial to a war battle and the local lives lost. And blow me down, less than a kilometre further on, there is another one - huge! This one flies the French flag.

And still we climb. We are back in the rural belt of Italy, where life is lived at a much slower pace. Its not long before the stunning vistas of the high mountains and the Dolomite ranges begin to tease us from behind the lower mountains. We are back in the Alps, although this is very definitely the sunny side - with some snow (permanent ice) only visible on the very highest of the peaks high above us. And yes, this is the stuff of postcards and National Geographic specials!

And eventually as we turn away from Brennero to return to our accommodation, we pass through the edge of Vipiteno. I am drawn to get off the road and edge into town - "Just let me check this out", I say to Michael. "Oh my God, it's it!" I exclaim. Yes, I had found the church!! Parrocchiale 'Nostra Signora della Palude' - the Parish church of Our Lady of the Swamp (Shrek anyone?) And even though it is literally just before 5 pm, the church still stands open and people are arriving to tend to the gardens in the adjacent cemetery - just like when we were here last time.

We enter the cool and now quite shaded church to have a look. I knew that it would not be the same as the sun filled sanctum that we found last time, but it was lovely just the same. In fact, it was more than lovely. Where last time we found a tired but loved place of worship, this time it is nothing short of majestic. The cracks in the masonary and the peeling plaster have been repaired. The huge pillars that support the roof that soars high in the heavens above have been given a coat of paint. And those beautiful ceiling frescoes that took our breathes away last time have been restored to their full colourful glory. Michael is particularly taken with the carved pew doors that seem to have been given a new lease of life as well. And the timber flooring at the front of the church has been replaced, as have the cracked marble flagstones that form most of the traffic areas. As we take a walk through the lovingly attended cemetery with gardens contained within every grave, we notice that the Chapel of Repose (complete today with a recently deceased) and the cloister chapel have all been restored as well. Their frescoes rival those in the church for their beauty.

And so, my aim for the day is finally met just as we are about to turn south for the trip home! I'm ecstatic! And Michael is impressed, so the long day through the beautiful country was well worth it. So now, I turn for the Autostrada del Brennero to get back to Silea in the shortest possible time. Yep, the dreaded motorway. Like the road we travelled on in the mountains across Umbria the other day, much of this motorway is raised on long bridges as it traverses across valleys through the mountains. This road however is in much better condition - as well it should be, it is the main connection Italy has with Austria and Germany.

As we travel south following the Brenner highway, we see castle after castle on almost every available ridge. Gee, this part of Italy rivals the Upper Middle Rhine in Germany with its 40+ castles. And just like in the Rhine, this is a big grape growing area. In the dtill afternnon air, we can hear this farmer ploughing long before we see him. In the dying light of the day, we pass Castel Beseno near Besenello. Sitting high on the hills above the town it is an impressive site as the last bit of sunshine hits it. Time and time again we see the clouds developing on the horizon and at this time, we can't be sure where the mountains end, and the clouds begin. And there are more castles to see as well, but the fast disappearing light and a moving car are no match even for the Nikon D70 and we can't get clear photos. (There is no way I am stopping at this point of the trip!)

As we are nearing Ca' Serena we can hardly see the beautiful big waning moon for the dirty brown haze that veils it from us. So, the haze that we left here in the Italian lowlands this morning does not have appeared to have lifted all day. Thank goodness we were 'up where the air is clean' for most of the day!

Over the hills and far far away

Monday 7 September

OK guys - this day is out of synch - this is really the post for last Monday - the day that things went a little awry!

The day started beautifully and with much promise. We left Les Rhodos after a lovely breakfast. Its amazing the difference in breakfasts that we experience and while it was very continental, Pascal kept the coffee, warm milk, croissants and lovely bread coming. It amazes us how many people there are at breakfast as the hotel was very quiet overnight - no partygoers, no revellers. I guess most people are just happy to be in such lovely surroundings. As we had arrived in the early evening and had just a tad of trouble finding the hotel which was actually on a rural route out of the town, we had not had time to look around.

Waking this morning, the air is amazingly clear with a clarity that is hard to imagine. In the early morning light, the steeple of the church gleams and beckons us. After saying our goodbyes to Valerie and Pascal and leaving some little reminders of Australia, down into the village we go. The church is billed as baroque, but is not gilded and gaudy as some we have seen. Like most other things in this little alpine gem, it is a genuine place that reflects the life of its community.

Just beyond the church there is a little souvenir shop that has reasonable prices. Helen is looking for a new travel buddy as Laura the ladybird is not really photogenic. We find the perfect buddy - Pierre Le Jean Bear! And I find the cutest small MARMOT backpack - I'll never forget my first trip to Europe when I saw one in the wild and nearly drove myself and everyone else crazy cos I didn't know what to call it! I think that a little girl might get it before too long.

The mountains look stunning in the morning sun - the permanent snow (ice) high on the slopes of Mont Blanc glistens in the sun and the clear air allows the myriad of colours up here in the high alps to positively shine. The lady in the souvenir shop is very friendly and when Michael comes in and thanks her for her help in finding our accommodation last night her face lights up and she gives us a free local magazine. Us spending money probably helped as well!

The air up here is clear - really clear. There is a sharpness that seems to accentuate individually all the crisp clear scents, oh, and the mountain smell of cows - got to experience it to appreciate it (or not!) Sinus appears to be a dim memory for those of us who suffer it from time to time. We have watched the cloud nursery over the last 12 hours - those high mountains where little wisps of clouds begin, sometimes dissapate and sometimes coalesce to form small then larger and larger puffs of white cotton wool.

We leave Cordon and head down the valley to pass through Sallanches in the base of the valley where we turn and head towards the famous ski resort of Chamonix, Mont Blanc and the Simplon Pass en route to Italy. We are travelling the road that twists and turns through the valley that squeezes its way between the various ranges in the French Alps. And all the while, we have Mont Blanc towering over us on the right, a steady reassurance that we are continuing in the right direction - a bit unnecessary as there is one road, and only two directions, forwards or back! The scenery is breath-taking. We never tire of it and Helen when she puts the camera down for a little just constantly makes comments.

On the opposite side of the valley to Mont Blanc, the mountains are not quite so high and so at this time of the year, right at the end of summer, they are snow free. They are also of a very different composition. The are below the tree line and so there are a myriad of fir trees - about 6 or 7 different types that boldly cling to the sharp steep slopes. Where the slopes are too steep for trees, you get lots of earth slip, with loose rocks and dirt sliding down to the next small ledge and then sitting there in growing piles. Above this towers sheer rock faces that would no doubt send some of the extreme sports junkies into a frenzy of excitement.

All of a sudden we find ourselves caught in the traffic of Chamonix. Even in summer this town is a-buzz. High above us we see what has become a (frighteningly) familiar sign of the hang gliders silently riding the thermals, round and round and round. And around town we can see the trim, taut and muscle-calved bodies of the summer hikers that you see all around the high countries in Europe. We Aussies like to think that we live in the great outdoors - let me tell you, we don't. Oh sure, we spend out days sitting in the great outdoors, but here where the summer is short and intense, they spend every minute of the day making the most of the amazing opportunities at their disposal. They walk, well, hike or trek is probably a closer description, across the hills and valleys for hours and sometimes days on end. They hang glide, they climb, they mountain bike down the slopes. They really live in the outdoors. And then of course summer is over and they all head indoors for the next 9 months - hehe.

We had not planned to stop, but then again we had not planned anything specific anyway! Helen makes a comment about the cable car and it was then we realised that she had never been up a big mountain, so off the major road we pull, passed all the beautiful people, passed the boutiquey shops and up tight little streets to the cable car terminus. There were two options: we could get the cable car up the mountain, or two cable cars - the first up the mountain and then another across the valley and up to a higher peak.

"In for a penny, in for a pound," was Helen's response to her preference. And so up we go. She sat with her back to the slope, looking out across where we had been, and watching the valley floor falling away from her as we climb the slope, while I the chicken always look up. The Brévent cable car allows you not only to get to the starting point for walks and hang gliding, it affords the most incredible views across to Mont Blanc. The Mont Blanc range peaks at 4810 m, the Aiguille du Midi (3842 m), and then there are the fascinatingly stunning Chamonix needles to one side and the range Fiz Diosaz with the valley below. Some of the most interesting scenery you will ever see!

The day is sunny and high on the plateau and then the Brévent peak, it is intense and I suspect that you would get burned very quickly. After gazing in wonder at the top of the world all around us, Michael takes off to scale to the top observation deck on the plateau, while Helen and I are quite content to have a coffee. Its not long before Michael is down joining us. After about an hour and a half all up, we head back down to the car and set off again.

We left Chamonix and continued up and down the hairpin bends through the mountains. And we continue to pass the crazy crazy cyclists who seem to relish the conquering of these hills. God knows how some of them don't have heart attacks halfway up - I mean there are some seriously toned bodies pushing those pedals, but then again there are also some who look like rank amateurs who don't have the handle on the gears and need apply much more mind over matter to achieve their goal. In fact, some of them look quite unhealthy (read podgy here) and their tight lyrca suits could not hide the obvious - ugh.

The valley through the mountains continues to wend its way along their base. Some times we head up into the passes to cross one peak, only to be greeted by yet more over the top. Up and over the Col des Montets (a mountain pass high in France) and then the Col de la Forclaz back into Switzerland for a while. We see Martigny down in the valley and skirt around its outer edges. It looks very very familiar with its slopes of vineyards and Michael and I realise the that it is all too familiar and dredge back through the memory banks to remember that we had been through here before on the day we visited Evian from Manigod! As we leave Martigny we are hugging the right bank of the Rhône River. Kate, as requested, is delivering us along the back roads - gosh some of them are better described as back back roads!

When we get to Sion, Kate insists that we need to take a ferry. When I programmed her this morning she had told me there was a ferry. But her directions take us not to a lake or a river or anywhere else where we might catch a ferry. It does however, take us to the railway station where we could get a car train through the Simplon range! But, not expecting this, I haven't checked the timetables. Usually with a ferry, you just rock up and wait for the next one to leave. ! So I quickly re-proramme her and we resume our road route. We might have been able to catch a train, but we want to go OVER the mountains so we can see the views!

The Simplon Pass is a high mountain pass between the Pennine Alps and the Lepontine Alps and connects Switzerland and the Piedmonte region of northern Italy. Up and over we go through beautiful forested areas with streams far below us. We traverse half open tunnels that hug the side of the slopes and at one point, a waterfall cascades down over the tunnel providing for a vista through a watery veil - very very beautiful. And its not too long before we are at the top. As with may of these passes, the top provides an opportunity for entrepreneurs to set up restaurants, hostelleries and touristy outlets, and this one is no different!

We are hardly over the Pass when off to the right we see the top of a church, peeking from a valley below. It is really intriguing as there doesn't seem to be a community down there and so we pull over in a rest stop to take a better look. WOW - it is so tall! And off to one side is a long, much lower building that resembles maybe a monastery, maybe a barracks. But the very unusual thing is that these two buildings are out there, isolated, on their alonesome. Wow, this definitely calls for a closer look. I take the next road that leads off to the right and away we go. The buildings are much closer to the road than they looked. And whatever this building it, it is not a church. Its 8 stories high. There are no explanation signs so we have no idea what either of the buildings are. Michael takes heaps of photos though.

And then the day went belly-up.

As I started the car, there was this dreadful asthma-like hacking, coughing noise. The last time I had ever heard anything like it was years ago when my girlfriend, Carmen's car did a cylinder. Whatever it was, it wasn't good! I quickly drove down to the base of the hill where the barracks were and tooted the horn as Michael had disappeared somewhere around that imposing edifice. He re-appeared and I called him telling him there was a problem. A quick look under the bonnet and he (and therefore we) were none the wiser. All I knew was that we had to get somewhere and fast. Helen laughed (as she does when she is anxious). She told me later that my whole demeanour changed. There she was trying to calm me by telling me such things as "Its probably only a blocked fuel line or dirty fuel". But I would not be convinced. This car has been the extension of my arms, legs and breath for the past eight months and I had a horrible feeling coursing through my very being. Yeah, yeah drama queen - but it does make for interesting reading.

So we crept up from the valley and back on to the highway through the base of the Pass. Its all down hill from here - through a stunning gorge (not that I am taking too much attention) and very downhill! It was about now that the engine warning light came on - intermittently and then persistently. I coast into a Shell service station at Gondo just before the Italian border. The lights were all one, but the only fellow there spoke only Italian and Michael could not make himself understood. So we continue to limp forward. We have to pass through a tunnel that was 2.5 kms long - "One of the longest tunnels in the world", thought Helen "when the engine light is on!" before emerging to pass through the Italian border, manned by one of the gruffest men we have yet to meet. By this point, we are seeing lots of signs for the town of Domodossola and so following my instinct that this might be a larger town, we head for there.

Turns out that we could not have come to rest in a more appropriate location. As we come off the highway we see a sign for a mechanic and Michael goes for help. He brings two non-Italian looking Italians back to the car. They don't understand us until Helen points to the engine warning light in the manual and he laughingly says one word "Caput" and toached the engine. The then mutters Opel (European equivalent of Vauxhall) and points across the road saying what we interpret to be they are closing as he points to his watch.

Michaels now off at a frantic sprint. He comes back a little later to say that the mechanics have gone, one of the office girls speaks some English and we can leave the car there (before 7 pm when the sales staff finish and its now 6:30 pm). And as I said, the perfect location - the Opel dealer is 100 m up the road in one direction and in the other is the Hotel Internazionale. So he heads there - yes they have a vacancy, with wifi connection and he has booked us in. We quickly unload the car at the hotel and he takes it over to Opel.

My god, what an exhausting afternoon.
We head down for dinner as soon as the Restaurant is open at 7:30 pm. Plaza de Toros might not be silver service, but the food is wholesome and tasty given our frantic hunger. We have a strange mix, pasta for starters - Helens with Salmon, mine was gnocchi with tomato and Michael had Penne Arribiata. The waitress then collected the plates and gave us dessert menus, obviously not realising that we had ordered a 'main' meal. Helen and I both had Veal with Limone and Michael had Torneades - all served with chips, no veges or salad! Desserts then followed - Helen and I shared a Creme Catalan and Michael had lemon sorbet.

Up to the room and to very uncomfortable beds - well, Michaels and mine was while Helens obviously gets less use and wasn't too bad she reported. Who cares. We are in civilisation. We are safe. More news on the car tomorrow.

Shiny baubles

We take our leave of Innsbruck this morning. Last time I was here there was snow on the Alps as a backdrop to the City. But this time, we are about a month later in the year and the only snow are small pockets high on the slopes. The clouds roll down the mountains and then retreat, all the time, as though there is some huge being sitting atop, breathing heavily. So the backdrop is just as picturesque!

We head out of town towards Wettens. As we turn on to the motorway from the back streets of Innsbruck and then Innsbruck Hall, the traffic is building. Then, with a pile of traffic behind us, we spy a church - outside Volders - out in the middle of nowhere and attached obviously to a monastery or something like it. This one is different. The masonary on the outside of the building is decorated and painted with a pinkish orange hue. So quick exit right as I see a road leading down! We have inadvertently lucked upon Karlskirche! St Charles Church. Built from 1620 in the Early Baroque style, this church is reminiscent of the ornate St James Cathedral in Innsbruck, but with one major difference.

There is a quiet beauty about this one that was built for an order called the Servites. And if they are true to their vows of poverty, then to whom does this glorious example of marble and gilt and painted beauty belong? You and me? And it is filled with light thanks to the inclusion of a row of leadlight windows halfway down the walls and around the wall of the cupola that towers above us. There are also a number of impressive crystal chandeliers hanging throughout the Church - maybe made by Swarovski?

We cannot get in to the main body of the Church which is behind locked gilded gates, nor to the two side chapels devoted to Mary, but nevertheless the sight is breathtaking. And it adds to the dilema I face when confronted with such wealth in the properties of a Church that preaches support for the poor and oppressed. Especially when I have the first person examples given by Aunty Mary and now Michael. Hmmmm. The attached former monastery now houses a private secondary school.

Now, I'm nothing if not a glitter girl - Donna is Bling queen, but I guess I would say I come a close second! Last time we were here in Innsbruck, we went to the Swarovski Cristal shop in town but this time, I have convinced Michael to go with me out to the Swarovski Kristallwetten outlet. Situated just outside Innsbruck, you enter this ‘magical’ world but only after the extraction of €9.50 per person (€2 discount if you make a purchase in the shop!) There is the easily recognisable entrance – entering behind cascading water from the ‘Giants’ face. The information leaflet describes it as thus:
"Here a subterranean landscape made of thousands of crystals awaits you. Be prepared to embark on a journey between dreams and reality, where you will encounter fairytale characters and mythical creatures ... As soon as you step inside you find yourself in a deep blue chamber, far removed from everyday life" As Rod Serling said "...you come to a crossroads and there is a signpost up ahead, and the next stop - The Twilight Zone'". What a load of crock! This would have to be one of the world's greatest acheivements of advertising hype and con-artistry.

The whole experience is in reality a sometimes clever combination of animatronics, lightshows, artistic elements and a maze like warren of rooms that are very dark with a one-way system through the lot. And the number of people moving through is amazing - the company is certainly raking in the money through here.

We are disappointed as we had expected the experience to be more like that at the Wedgewod factory where you learned something of the production and the honing of artisitic skills. But it was nothing like that. In fact, you see little of Swarovski Crystals as they are commercially seen until the very last room where there is a collection of historic pieces. And from here, with your eyes becoming readjusted to normal lighting, you step into the showroom and sales area.

And this is where the cleverness of marketing really shines. The lighting is bright and the large room is white and mirrored with dazzling reflections going on and on and on. The works on sale range from crystal topped pencils for €3 each up to ornate pieces with price tags just shy of €5,000. And the sales staff are run off their feet!
You can custom make pieces yourself, or have a jeweller do it for you. But spend you must!

So Donna, we didn't miss a damn thing last time, and I wish we had not wasted the money (or time) here today. In fact, the best part of the visit for us was the cakes and coffee in the Coffee Shop at the end of our visit!

When we leave Wettens it is well after 12 noon and we now turn for the south and further east of Austria. We have read of the Hohe Tauern National Park and the highway through the park is considered to be one the world's most scenic. I try to program Kate to take us from Innsibruck through Zell am See and then to Lienz before heading for Salzburg - but she advises that there is no route. And when I add another way-point through Hallstatt, the route becomes a 7.5 hour epic.

We just don't have that amount of time, so we begrudgingly give the Lienz section a miss - pity, because this is where the really scenic area is. And again, I am sorry that we spent so much time at the blasted Swarovski place. Still, we pass through three of the four seasons in one day (everything but summer today with the highest temperature a cool 18.5°C) and some truly stunning scenery.

The rain follows us for a time and you can now appreciate why there is an abundance of water in this high country. Eveywhere you turn there is running water, rivers, stream, waterfalls. Water, water everywhere! And still the mountains and valleys breathe out the clouds!

This afternoon we cross from Austria unwittingly back in to Germany - a tight litte corner as we travelled north from Zell am See before we head east again to Salzburg. It came as something of a shock - I had through that the road was further east, but obviously not! And then back into Oesterrich! We pass lots of quirky little carvings, statues, advertising hoardings and roundabout art on the way.

And finally we arrive at Salzburg. As we come into the outer suburbs we glance to our left an see the imposing Festung Hohensalzburg - the Salzburg Fortress, and a couple dressed in traditional garb walking through the residential streets. The roads near the Jugendgästehaus (translated liteally as Youth and Family Guest House) are the biggest mess that we have encountered to date. The route as told by Kate is totally blocked, and we end up on a circutious route to get here.

The hostel is a pleasant surprise. It is modern, has a cafeteria and out room is a family room on the second floor that is huge with a separate shower and toilet, windows that open wide for fresh breeze and beds that are comfortable enough for me to have a nap. And we have th MOST amazing view of the fortress from the windows in our room. Parking is outside the door and the only drawback is that there is no internet connection in the rooms - but the wifi in the downstairs area is free.

There is a large convention centre next door and today there is a gathering of African people. Their music continues with the same lyrics, but with differing rythym and beats for hour after hour. And there is dancing in the grounds. And the sound of children's laughter and adult's joy - wonderful sounds to hear!

Tonight we decided to eat in once I have had a nap. The pizza cooked by the staff is hot, the crust crisp and altogether delicious. Add to this a glass of red wine and I am as happy as the proverbial pig. I have missed the nightly free showing of 'The Sound of Music', but believe me, I will make sure that I am in time for it tomorrow night!!!!