This weekend, I visited the city of Salzburg, Austria, and climbed a mountain in Bavaria, Germany. I have been to many famously beautiful places across the world, including Hawaii, the Grand Canyon, Yosemite National Park, The Grand Tetons and Yellowstone, but none have come close to the beauty of Schellenberg in Germany.
Perhaps part of this mountain's wonder has to do with the effort it took to get to the top, or perhaps it all comes down to its grand view of the Bavarian countryside. Either way, I found myself holding back tears (no, not from the pain in my legs) as I looked out upon the contrast between the rocky mountains and the lush, rolling hills below.
Saturday morning, my CS host and I woke up bright and early and leisurely ate spinach smoothie bowls before seeing the time and having to sprint to make it to the 7:25AM bus. Robert and I then transferred to another bus, where I met three travelers, a woman and her parents, from Fort Wayne, Indiana. It was comforting to be able to tell someone where I was from, and for them to know exactly what town I was referring to. The daughter laughed about how she had wanted to travel solo, but her mom and dad would have never let her. When she asked how my parents felt about me being abroad for a year, I said, "Well, my mom told me that I established my independence at age 4, so . . ."
We exchanged social media information and then said our goodbye's as the bus pulled up to the start of the Schellenberger Eishöhle hiking trail. Robert and I made our way up a wide, dirt path that eventually turned into a steep, rocky mess. At times, I was afraid I would lose my footing and fall back far, far down the side of the mountain (but as you can see, I made it!).
We stopped at a cottage just before the ice cave to eat a traditional, homemade Kuchen with a crisp, buttery topping and a midsection full of sweet berries. Then, we trekked around the corner to the entrance of Schellenberger Eishöhle. The ice cave was nestled into the side of the mountain. I looked out upon the gorgeous view as we waited for the start of the next tour.
I turned to my CS host and said, "I think this is the most beautiful place I have ever been."
He smiled and patted my back. "Glad to share it with you."
The entrance to the ice cave was filled with snow, and I was amazed at how a mere 10 feet into the mountain could yield such cold temperatures. The guide spoke only in German, so I spent my time admiring the sharp blue lines of ice that surrounded us rather than listening.
Once we exited the ice cave, Robert pointed to another path that went down the mountain. I assumed, by the angle of the trail, that this meant we were going to be making our way back down to the bottom.
I was wrong, but happily so, after a time. When the path first started moving uphill, I was a little confused. Maybe it would go back down soon? Wrong again. It began to steepen to a point at which I only had to bend forward a couple inches to be able to touch the trail before me. It was nearly vertical, and railings were sparse, if present at all. Was I nervous? Oh yes, most definitely. Dangling my legs off a cliff is one thing; then, I am sitting on solid ground. Climbing up jagged rocks on the side of a mountain is another; I have been known to easily twist my ankle or dislocate my kneecap (yes, ew, I know) with one false step. A missed footing here would not just be painful, but deadly if I were to fall backwards.
The trail flattened out to a field of low pine brush, and we meandered through the green for several minutes before reaching the peak. Miles upon miles (or should I say kilometers) of hills stretched out before us. More mountains could be seen on all sides in the distance. A large, wooden cross was planted at the highest point. I walked up to it and turned around in a circle, slowly taking in the beauty of the place. Several people lay scattered about the cross, eating snacks and looking out on Germany on one side and the Austrian city of Salzburg on the other.
Then came the hard part - the long, long way down. It had taken us about 3.5 hours to reach the top, and even though the way down only took 2.5, it was much more taxing on our knees and legs. We slowly made our way back down the mountain, treading on thousands of makeshift wooden steps that felt like they were sitting right on top of each other. This time, the notion of tripping was even more treacherous - forget about a railing, and best of luck to you if you happen to pitch forward on accident. It was a grueling exercise for both Robert and I, but once we made it to the bottom, we sighed in relief and high-fived. Due to the necessity of concentration while going down the steep cliff, we had not said a word to each other for quite some time. We spoke our first words in hours: "Thank God that's over."
Robert admitted, "I have no idea where the bus station is," and asked me if I was comfortable with hitchhiking. I said yes, much to his surprise. Even though I had never hitchhiked before, it was no problem at all if I was with someone else. I would be more hesitant if it were just me, but I would do it nonetheless.
We got 2 out of about 20 cars to stop for us within 10 minutes, which surprised me considering the stories I have heard about how long it usually takes to get a ride. The first car was not going anywhere helpful, but the second car was. This elderly man in a Honda drove us to the Salzburg bus station with "Little Help" by BossHoss playing in the background. After we got out of the car, Robert told me that the man had taken us further than he had planned to go himself. My first hitchhiking experience was a success!
Ah, Salzburg. The days surrounding my Saturday in the mountains were spent in the city. What a great place. I spent my first day in Salzburg exploring the old town, watching kids eat pretzels bigger than their heads at the local Oktoberfest, hiking along the castle walls, and breaking the rules with some locals.
The train dropped me off at Salzburg's main station early on Friday morning. After walking around the city for some time, I found the footpath up to the castle. I was not sure if it was the correct way, so I stopped and asked a couple that was making their way down. They were from Seattle. When I asked if this was the way, they said yes, but the woman gave me a warning.
"It is so steep," she said. "You could take the tram over there instead."
I smiled at them and replied, "Well, I'm a cheapskate who loves hiking, so is it feasible?"
The man gave me the classic knowing nod and slow blink, "It's doable."
I thanked them and made my way up the *very short* hill, then stopped next to some men who were looking at the pricing sign. I had not expected the entrance to the castle to cost money. I noticed that the two men were speaking English, so I asked where they were from. London and Australia. I joked about if whether or not they were going to decide to pay for it. We debated, then figured it was worth it.
We exchanged names (Martin and Ted were theirs) and talked about how and why we all ended up in Salzburg, and ended up spending the rest of the day together (this is becoming a trend with the random people I meet!). We chatted about journalism, news coverage of important events, WWII history, and how the Brits always joke about how much they hate Americans but do not really mean it. We all laughed at how ridiculously elementary the informational boards about the castle were, and made some (probably not PC) jokes about how the Germans must be so concerned with structure and clarity that compound sentences can NOT be tolerated.
Afterward, we went to a Bier garten. It was called Augustiner bräu. We met up with a Salzburg native couple. Their names were Luke and Bella. They knew Martin. They took us to the Salzburg Oktoberfest. We walked around. We talked. We ate bratwurst. (Okay, enough of that.)
Luke took us to the other side of the river and on top of a roof to see a view of the city. We watched the sunset fall over the castle and shared interesting stories. It was a beautiful night spent with great people.
When we got down from the roof, a nun from a couple doors down came outside to berate us. "You are so rude! People live there!" she said angrily. Luke just shrugged and we left. According to him, the view was worth any holy anger. I could not have agreed more (sorry to the people who lived there - I hope you were not around to hear our footsteps on your tin roof).
Side Note: I went back to this area two days later and saw a "no climbing" sign there that either had not been there before or I just had not noticed it. I would like to think it was put up specifically because of us climbing up there.
The group walked me to the bus and made sure I was going in the right direction toward Henndorf, a small town just outside of Salzburg where my CS host lived. The next day, Saturday, is when I hiked the mountain, and then on Sunday I went back to the city after saying goodbye to my CS host.
I spent my last day in Salzburg walking through local artists' and craftsmen's tents along the river, visiting the Zauberflötenspielplatz (a long word for a garden), and climbing up to another historic building opposite from the Salzburg castle. Why I decided to climb more hills after the feat I accomplished on Saturday, I do not know. My legs were not very happy about that. Much to others' amusement, I had to grip the railing in order to climb up and down the stairs on the way to this building, while people three times my age sped past.
Now, three days later, my legs are still sore from hiking Schellenberg, which was the equivalent of climbing 420 flights of stairs and walking 14.8 miles of up- and downhill on Saturday. It was so worth it, though.
Salzburg, you were so good to me! I met some amazing people and saw incredible views of Germany and Austria this past weekend. I cannot wait to see what next weekend holds.
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