Alpine Adventure- part VIII

Sat. July 23, 2016- Villach, Austria

         It was muggy and in the 70’s (F) as we left Villach. We were driving west, along the scenic Drau River valley. The scenery was again bucolic. Lush Alpine meadows dotted with ancient a-frame farmhouses and neatly ordered farms lulled us into a narcoleptic trance. We were headed into the Dolomite Mountains of Northern Italy, using the Brenner pass, through the Alps. Wood products, corn for animal silage and polenta grow hereabouts. Lucy told an amusing story about Polenta and poor farmers. The gritty corn product is a staple of their diet. They would occasionally hang a string of bacon or pork that they would first touch and rub on their lips before eating the scratchy corn. This became known as “touching bacon polenta.” She also labeled the rolled hay bales wrapped in plastic as “cow toilet paper.” It got a laugh from the passengers.

Many of the local farmers offer a single room up as a “B&B” for wayfarers. The government doesn’t tax the income as an incentive to farmers. Several castles shone on the hillsides. The eroded peaks of the Dolomites sometimes shown pink in the right light reflecting their limestone and quartz makeup. Hard as it is to believe, the Alps had once been coral atolls in an ancient sea before tectonic plates had shifted and an upwelling of molten liquid basalt has forced the granite cap rock high into the European sky.

We crossed the River Isel as it flows into the Drau River at Lienz. There we stopped at the famous cookie maker Alfonz Loacker, buying up sweets and cookies with wild caloric abandon. All along the roadsides were biking and hiking paths through the lush mountains, It seems like everyone in central Europe hikes or bikes in the region during the warm summers. The whole Heidi- Mystique reverberated through the countryside with great effect. We were nearing Cortina in the Italian Alps, a large ski center that had hosted the 1956 Winter Olympics. Summer skiing on the glaciers also draws in a large number of visitors. The three eroded peaks of the “Chrystallos” rose up from the ground here. We could see patches of snow on their slopes so very far above. Their steep sides were covered with deciduous conifers, like the Tamarack and Larch Trees.

         At the mountain resort lake of Misurina, we stopped to walk the lake and admire the scenery. It much reminded me of similar resort lakes in the Adirondack Mountains of New York State. I even found and employed the services of a “pissoix,” something I hadn’t seen since Paris a generation before. From Misurina, we drove back up into the mountains and on into Ausrtria, again headed towards Innsbruck, the fabled home of the Winter Olympics.  It had been both a monastery and a former Roman Army Camp. The name derives from the German word Inn (the river it sits on) and the word for bridge (bruck).

Innsbruck is a good-sized town with a central pedestrian area called appropriately, “The Alt Stadt.” (old town)We checked into our hotel, “The Grauer Baer,” and walked off to explore the alt stadt. Crowds were even then assembling for the Saturday night revelry. We sat for a time in the courtyard of the palace restaurant and listened to an all brass band warming up for this evening’s concert. Then, we ambled through the pedestrian mall. It was already awash with visitors. We caught a market, just as it was closing, and bought a  bottle of cabernet. We were tiring with the day’s travels and decided to find a berth for dinner. “Die Golden Rachl”  (golden roof)  seemed to fit the bill. German in style, with wooden benches and chairs, was already crowded with patrons. In my best German, I was able to order two bottles of sparkling water, Wiener schnitzel for Mary and Lake Trout for myself. It was very good. The waitress was kind. Her English was better than my German. She had also greeted. us upon entering the place, with the traditional German greeting “Grusgott.” (God greets you.)

         After dinner, we again strolled through the pedestrian mall enjoying the hither and yon rush of the many visitors all around us. People watching, with visitors from just about everywhere, is as fascinating an activity on these excursions as any thing else. It was a warm Austrian night and we were together in the fabled Winter Olympic town of Innsbruck, Austria. How neat is that? We walked back to the room, wrote up my notes and settled in for a glass of cabernet, before surrendering to the sandman.

                                      -30-

                                 (778 words)

                           Joseph Xavier Martin