Enjoying the View
I must, once again, begin with an apology to my regular readers. I use this term lightly, because, of late, this blog has been anything but regular. Since my last entry, nearly one month ago, I have had many experiences which made me think: Wow! I must share this on my blog. This or that was really cool/moving/just plain worth sharing. Sometimes I was even able to come up with a catchy title that coincided with the experience.
In 1999, on my first trip to Europe, I had the opportunity to visit Achensee, a small lake in the Austrian Alps. At the time, traveling with my father and grandfather, I took a boat cruise from essentially one end of the lake to another before getting back onto the Mercedes tour bus and driving onto the next location. But that lake made an impression on me--such that I promised myself I would return there. I wanted to sit by the lake and write. I didn’t know what I would write, but at 13 years old, I just knew the place held inspiration for me that I wanted to tap into. So, last Thursday I bid farewell to Reutlingen and started my return journey to the Austrian Alps.
After just less than five hours spent on three trains I found myself standing on the platform in Jenbach--a town in the valley below the towering mountains. I was alone with my backpack and my computer bag. (Now, I must say at this point, for no other reason than to protect my ego from those who may scoff my apparent surplus of luggage--that since my intention for coming to this place revolved around my spending time writing, I, as a slave to my IBM, needed to drag along my behemoth “laptop” computer. Thus, the extra bag was required. If you still feel the need to tell me how I could have packed it with everything else in my backpack, please send me an e-mail. Depending on my humor, I may actually read it.) Back to the platform: I found myself there with my luggage and the name and address of my hotel. That was it. Oh yeah, and my “could-pass-for-not-too-terrible-on-a-really-good-day” grasp of the German language. So, needless to say, the adventure was about to really begin. I walked out of the station and looked around for a taxi. According to the website of my hotel, I was just a 5 minute taxi ride away from my bed. Great! I thought, no problem. Except there were no taxis to be found. I walked around the station and found, on the far side, two minivans with little plastic signs on the top stating “TAXI” and I breathed a sigh of relief. I approached the two men who were by the vans and asked, “Taxi?” “Ja.” (Ok…so far, so good). “Wo gehen Sie?” “Hotel Klinger” (yeah! two for two!) „Long stream of unintelligible deutsch.” “Uh...” (CRAP!) After some pointing and, I assume, repeating of the words he had just said, the cab driver got me to show him my book in which I had written the name and address of the Hotel. He then pulls out his cell phone and tells me he has not heard of this place and must ask his boss. I must say I was happy that I understood his telling me this in German; however the nature of what he revealed did make me a bit uneasy. After a thankfully quick phone call I was in the cab and we were making our way up the mountain to Maurach am Achensee. The Hotel-Pension Klinger is, as I found out, a family-run business that includes the guesthouse, a small café and a restaurant. I was greeted at the front desk by a telephone and a card asking me to call number 28. None of this was in Rick Steves’ German Phrase Book (or “that-little-blue-lifeline” as I like to call it), but I went with it anyway, picked up the receiver and dialed 2-8. A lady answered the phone, I told her (auf deutsch) that I had a reservation, and she told me (auf englisch) that she would be right over. I later learned that the whole family was in the restaurant across the street working the late-evening rush, and so Frau Klinger had to come over when she was needed at the hotel. I was checked in, given my key and off I went to settle in for the night. I was happy to find that my room was of considerable size, about two-and-a-half times the size of the double room I shared with my older brother when in Leipzig a couple of years ago. However, I was most happy to discover that the sink was of considerable size--plenty large enough to do laundry.
I must at this point make a brief tangent. Doing laundry at the Wurm-Haus in Reutlingen is a practice in patience, skill and, above all, luck. There are two working washers and one “working” dryer for the 100+ people living there. Simply put, laundry is placed on the back burner until it reaches critical mass. At which point panic ensues, judgment calls are made and, in the case of this weekend, a bag full of dirty clothes is packed with the intention of doing laundry upon arrival.
So I turned on BBC Worldwide and dumped a little Perwoll (German Wollite, many thanks to Dr. J’s wife for pointing me in the direction of that stuff) in the sink. All in all, not a bad way to end the day of travel--I had made it on my own and I knew the next day would find me back in the graces of Achensee. Life was good.
The next morning began at about 8:30--perhaps a bit earlier than I may have planned. After all, I was on my own with no one to please but myself. However, the Frühstück included with my room was only available from 08.00-09.30. So, I needed to drag out and get some yogurt! The breakfast didn’t disappoint and afterwards I ventured back to my room to do a little more laundry. There was a great deal of fog in the town, which made seeing even the mountains just outside my balcony difficult. So, I decided to give the fog time to burn off before I ventured out. Good move! At about noon I started my walk through the town hoping to find something which would point me in the direction of the lake itself. I knew the town of Maurach was on the southeast end, but I had no idea where in Maurach I was. Frau Klinger was back at the restaurant, the “Bitte rufen Sie 28 an.” card at the desk in her stead. So, I just went outside and began to walk. I quickly found a sign which read “See Prominade” pointing me down a blacktop path. Excellent! I began to walk, and walk, and walk, seeing no water but just more and more open space. After 20 minutes I finally got the shore of Achensee. So, apparently my hotel is on the extreme northeast end of a town that is on the extreme southeast shore of the lake. Good planning on my part…
I began to walk along the lake, falling “in like” with it all over again. I use that term because no longer was I feeling as moved as I did just eight short years ago. Nevertheless, it was astoundingly beautiful. The fog had burned away revealing a bright blue sky, dotted occasionally by fluffy clouds. The mountains where a mix of green at the bottom moving to gray and eventually to white at their snowy tops. After walking for quite a while I realized the hour and decided it was time to find some food. Well, actually my brain was pretty well occupied by the sights, but thankfully my stomach keeps quite good time--a meal is rarely overlooked. A sign along the lake path caught my eye. It invited me to walk along the lake for another 25 minutes to where I would find a restaurant with a panoramic view of Achensee. Food and a view: sounds perfect! So I continued around and as I did, the lake once again took me in. The path I was one wove through the evergreens at the foot of the mountains which surround the lake. The trees allowed glimpses at the lake which was becoming greater and greater. I soon found the next sign for the restaurant which directed up a path to the place. The hike took me to a large wooden building with a great porch. I ate on the porch, looking over the treetops at the lake below. I had truly returned to the place I visited those years ago. And, at the risk of sounding corny, I pulled out my book of manuscript paper and began to tackle a writing project that has been on my plate for a few months. Perhaps I put a little too much stock in the inspirational powers of the lake--because I was not able to finish the great opus at that restaurant. But I made some headway, and I would challenge you to find a better workshop.
After my meal, I continued along the lake and eventually turned the corner of the “L” (which best describes the shape of the lake) and looked north. All of the sudden the mountains looked familiar and I was right back where I wanted to be. This was the place. I had made it.
That evening proved to be quiet. The nightlife scene in Maurach am Achensee was fairly non-existent--that is with exception of the bars. But I did not want to sit at a bar and drink alone. Perhaps if my German was better… I spent the evening hours reading and watching a little soccer on Eurosport. The next morning I was awake early again for the breakfast hour. After heading back to the room to do the last of the laundry, I went back out, this time to explore the town of Maurach itself. Winter had returned with a vengeance--with temperatures back around zero (centigrade) and snow. Snow! Yeah, that was nice. I found that the town was mostly shops and restaurants. I got lunch at the Klinger restaurant (I figured I should go there once) and then went back to the room to take another swing at the music. I had hoped to not be confined to the room for the day, but the weather made writing outside an unwise decision. So, after some writing I went back out to explore the town again. It was quant and quiet. And in the late evening I found a pizza joint that was quite superb. Once again the evening was spent with a book and, to change things up, a couple of episodes of the West Wing. I didn’t want to bring my computer to be an entertainment source, but since I had it--I figured, what the heck? A little bit of home right there in my Austrian hotel room. Too bad I was 5,000 miles away from my couch and my dog.
And then, this morning. After my final inklusiv Frühstück, I packed up and made my way to the desk. After dialing Frau Klinger, she accepted my key and helped my find the right bus to get back to Jenbach. She even gave me a voucher to cover the fare. I bid her farewell and made my way to the bus stop. After talking with the driver (in German!) I was able to relax and do some reading on the bus. As one of 4 people on the bus, the driver was asking where we wanted to go, so he didn’t have to make every stop. Now, I started my trip home two hours sooner than I had planned. This meant my meticulous checking and planning of train schedules was totally out the window. Now worries though, I am learning (albeit slowly) how to fly from the very seat of my pants. I only had to wait 15 minutes in Jenbach for a train to München. From there, I figured, I could get home no problem. However, I was greeted in München by tons of loud people sporting green. Ah yes! FC Bayern, the “New York Yankees” of the Bundesliega, and the team that I follow because, well, I’m an American, had a home match today against Weder Bremen. Right now Bayern is in fourth in the Bundesliega table, and Bremen sits in second. So now a new possibility for the day presented itself. I made a quick check of trains to Stuttgart and found a connection which I could take. Then I made my way out of the station to find information about the match. The only advice I got was, “go to the stadium and hope you can get something from the black market.” Well, darn. If it was a Cubs game, maybe. But perusing the FC Bayern black market for tickets to one of the biggest games of the year is one of those things which should be done auf deutsch. As much of a bummer as it may be, I know I can’t hang with scalpers, and I probably can’t trust those who would be willing to deal in English.
Peace.
posted by John D. Nevergall @ 13:00
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