Hall in Tyrol- Salt and Silver Mine

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The word hall in medieval times translated to salt. I have had a fascination with salt ever since my Father made me a model of a salt mine as a Christmas gift.

“Hall's Old Town is the mother of all medieval city centers.” Like Luebeck in Northern Germany loved how the streets meandered one into the other past church spires and brick works a thousand years old now holding either a hair salon, bakery or paper shop.

“The two marvellous squares and the labyrinthine layout of the side streets are unique in the world.”

I walked from my hotel, Gasthof Badl, on the other side of the River to the cemetery past an active convent. In the cemetery I spied a nun caring for the sisters laid to rest in the cemetery. A baker advertised strudel but in fact was selling poppy seed or apple cake. Tables arranged in front of restaurants in the square were crowded with people having an afternoon cup of coffee.

I had a bit of difficulty finding a hair salon that had time to give my head a cut but success was finally reached and for a not too cheap prize I walked out with a good cut ... except she did not do justice to my evil hair at the nape of my neck. Now two weeks later they are really noticeable.

The hotel Had daily specials at a good prize and I availed myself of same except on the day they were serving 'chili'. Passed on that. My 'chili' is too good for me to endure someone else s version!

I had arrived in the afternoon on the first day in Hall. The laundry had robe arranged. I bought wine and sausage and had a relax in the room. Next day I did a total Wander and enjoyed the feel of this laid back little town twenty minutes outside Innsbruck. The bus cost 3.20 euro one way and a day pass was 8 something. By Wednesday I was ready to go to Innsbruck and meet my friend Mirjam. She had invited me to stay at her flat . She gave me the key so that I could get into her apartment on Friday.

Thursday was a religious holiday ... a high holiday.

Went to the town square to be confronted with a mass of people in 'trachten' outfits all assembled according to affiliation ready to participate in a catholicmass ... the feast of Korpus Kristi ... and then a procession thru the town, with refreshments at the end.

I walked with the procession as far as the bus stop then I returned to the hotel for breakfast. The proceedings began at 08:00 in the morning.

“For many centuries, Hall was the center of the salt trade, and economically much more important than Innsbruck. It was a transport hub for a plethora of different goods, which were shipped on the Inn or transported on the roads. Trade brought substantial wealth to Hall, which enabled the rich families to build impressive architectural structures”. The slat works were no longer accessible and the small museum telling the tale of salt was only open and certain days and it being a high religious holiday on Thursday the museum was not open .

So after breakfast, the trip by bus to the Silvermine started.

A small train went into the mine. Hands and feet had to be held tight to the body because the shaft was only 40cm wide. The trip in of 800m took seven minutes. The narrow rail went along 500 year old shafts. Mannequins were in position to show the harshness of the work conditions. On Surface display cases on the way to the WC showed artifacts like leather shoes, wooden shovels and open to the air lanterns.

Because the town with the saltmine was the end of line for the bus the driver was kind enough to bring me right to the saltmine tour entrance. After the tour and a snack of sausage, beer and plenty of piquant mustard the walk to the next attraction ... House of Volkart ... began. Walking the distance I realized the favour the driver had accorded me. The trek was well worth it.

If the collection made by the missionaries at Style in Holland was mind blowing, the collection encountered here in ------ sent me over the edge. A journalist and photographer has amassed Buddhas, goddesses, temple doors, sacred voodoo objects masks, jewellery, posters, and banal ads for haircuts the numbers of which can only make ones jaw drop in disbelief.

When I encounter these collections I always have to ask, How did these people manage to get all of this treasure out of the countries? Who gave the permission? What price was paid? If any? It just boggles my brain!

Not being able to resist the urge to buy beads, I spent a few euros and then was on my way back to Hall and food.

The view from my window held a garden fountain, masses of fragrant roses, pet ducks and the River Inn with church spires in the distance. Perfect!!

Words in quotations have been taken from the internet.

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Photos

Here's Looking At You
This owl is actually a bag.