Ever since I first watched Maria serenading the hills of Austria in The Sound of Music, I have held on to a childlike reverence for the land that seemed so pure and green.
But the dreams of walking over those same hills were only revived well into my 30s after I saw the musical in the West End.
What better way to shed a few extra pounds, I thought, than walking over those foothills of the Alps?
But I was realistic enough to know that any arduous treks with my worldly goods on my back would have sorely tested my Technicolor dreams, which seemed as realistic as children in outfits pressed and preened bouncing along in song.
So when I heard that budget tour operator Thomson was offering a walking holiday in the Alps where your luggage is taken ahead for you, leaving you free to enjoy the spectacular views on your self-guided trek with just a day bag, I was sold.
The route is part of the Austrian stretch of the Via Alpina, which passes through eight Alpine countries running from the Adriatic to the Mediterranean. I had checked the weather forecast midweek and the region around Salzburg had been enjoying a typical gloriously hot and sunny two months up to mid-September, when we were due to travel. So I packed my shorts (not lederhosen admittedly) with a few concessions to the slightly less rosy outlook. After all, when were the hills ever alive with the sound of rainfall and thunder in the film?
The first day in the pretty village of Maria Alm started out well. While the air was indeed fresh, inky black clouds were threatening my idyll, so we took a gondola to hasten us on our 10km journey.
One of the advantages of going hiking in the Hochkönig region is that this is a ski area in winter, giving you lots of these short cuts. The other nice thing about the area is there is much to see and do on the way.
Grassy knolls there were aplenty and a few Maria-style poses had us all in giggles. But for the more seriously minded there were multi-sensory exhibits on the well-marked trails, including a giant ear-trumpet to hear bird calls, scents to test whether you can smell which berry is which, and other quizzes on your knowledge of fauna and flora. We could even have tried our archery skills at the Jufer Alm, although it was probably a good thing that we didn’t, as we’d had a long session tasting the home-made schnapps there.
We were pressing on as already a light drizzle was beginning to fall, which turned into steady drizzle by the time we arrived in Hinterthal to find our carefully packed luggage waiting for us at the hotel, as well as a gloriously welcoming spa, for which the Austrians are famous.
The next day was altogether more challenging. While my new-found delusion of fitness was undiminished, the rain convinced us to travel with our bags to our next stop Dienten.
This is one of the quaintest of the villages, with its 15th-century houses and church to protect the souls of farmers, miners and unprepared, romantically deluded travellers. There we had a change of heart and used the free guiding service to set off on a 13km round-trip past ancient copper mines, and through forests and gorges, romantically half-hidden by the clouds.
Yes, you can call it low cloud, you can call it precipitation – ramblers have any number of euphemisms to avoid the R-word, but in truth we were soaked. Only the promise of warm hillside hospitality drove us on.
In the rustic Pichlalm we stripped off and hung up our wet clothes over the fire, while the owner invited us to dance and yodel to his accordion-playing.
Encouraged by the obligatory schnapps, we carried on up the mountain. The drizzle turned to rain, the rain turned to sleet, and, by the time we reached our next stop, the Erichhütte, the sleet was fast turning into snow.
By now we were so wet that two of our party darted into the first building before our guide could stop them and had a conversation, half in English, half in German, which ran a bit like this: “Two schnapps, please.”
“Do I know you?”
“And a glühwein to warm us up.”
“I think you should try my neighbour. He runs a café.”
They scurried out, but needn't have been embarrassed – the Austrians are an incredibly friendly, welcoming lot, and his neighbour was indeed able to provide the schnapps, as per local custom, in our tea. He also filled us up with a local pancake-like dessert, Kaiserschmarren, as I decided to forget the bit about shedding those extra pounds.At least that evening, after the obligatory sauna, we resolved over a delicious, multi-course dinner, to go for an early morning swim. At the appointed hour we swam blinking into the outdoor heated pool to be greeted by a sight like no other – everything covered in a layer of the purest snow.
And we weren’t the only ones to be bidding goodbye to summer. Mid-September is when the cows are driven down from their Alpine pastures and, to celebrate, the farmers deck them out with garlands and fancy head-dresses.
In fact most of these symbolic ‘Almatriebs’ had been cancelled due to the unexpectedly bad weather – but this one WAS going to happen.
In homage to the farmer, Frau Maier, an accordion band struck up a tune, while she went around offering us home-baked biscuits to bring her luck for the drive down to our next stop, Mühlbach, where we packed for home.
We rather regretted we were only doing the shorter tour and hadn’t booked a few extra days R&R at the end – especially as the next day, naturally, dawned bright and clear.
So did I ‘climb every mountain’ and shed a few pounds? Not quite, but the weather notwithstanding it was a trip packed with the warmth of the Austrians and, yes, the sound of music.
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules hereComments are closed on this article