We got up at a reasonable hour and met up in the restaurant to have some breakfast. The food was great and the coffee was decent but it was a good start to what promised to be another great day in my parents’, brother’s and my Euro-venture. Today we were going to dip our toes into Austria. The goal was to check out the town that our former neighbors from our cabin on Kootenay Lake that we still keep in touch with, Dani and Hannes, recommended, Rattenberg.
It was Easter Monday so we thought that most of the stores would be closed but we were happy to discover that there were still places to pick up some lederhosen and dirndl. After a brief shopping spree I gathered the family in and informed them of my desire to “go climb a mountain.” They agreed and we found a nice path that led up a steep hill and towards a shallow pass between two large hills; it was not a mountain but it was close enough.
The weather was beautiful for the third day in a row; it was in the low 20’s. We had a great time getting up to the top of the pass. Once there we were given a great “The Sound of Music”-esque view of the next valley over. Unlike in Canada the next valley contained another town and houses scattered between the trees; I am used to climbing a mountain and looking over into the next valley to see nothing but trees and mountains.
We got down from our hike and treated ourselves to some beer and ice cream at a café on the main street in town. After the beer we went to some more stores and got our shop on. I must add that beer in Germany is absolutely amazing.
Mom was soon shopped out, for the day, and we headed back to Schliersee. Once there Stuart and I headed back to our room. I was on holidays, not that the past four months has not been one big holiday, so I decided to take a nap. 2 great hours later I got up; it was dinnertime!
For dinner today we decided to check out one of the many restaurants in town. We settled on a particularly Bavarian-looking place located in the lower level of a brown building with shudders and mural. The roofs were low so Stuart and I, not Dad, had to duck. We took a seat a small table nestled among German knick-knacks and peculiarly a Canadian hockey stick. Soon our waitress showed up, she was the ultimate German Oma, about 5’2” 220lbs and eager to please. She did not speak English so my parents got to witness my “mastery” of the German language.
The food showed up and it was delicious, easily the best that I had since I got to Europe. We accompanied our pork with spätzel, bier and kartoffelcremesuppe. I was in gastronomical heaven. The experience came to an end way too soon and I was full as full can be in bed with a mild, but welcome, case of the German meat sweats.
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