Day Ten - No Room at the Inn

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No need to go into how I slept during the night. Cassie really complained about my snoring this time. Maybe I’ll get my own room from now on.

We had a long drive ahead of us today. Last night we asked Ton when breakfast started. We got up early enough to be the first people in the dining room. They laid out a massive spread. I suppose the fact that half the population of Holland was staying here may have had a lot to do with the heaping buffet table full of breakfast treats. We got first pick at the feast

There were soft-boiled eggs, bacon, various juices, lots of rolls and a big selection of cold cuts and cheese. There was even a chafing dish full of hash browns. I think Ton was a little surprised at how much we consumed, but he didn’t seem too upset with us. He was still joking and yucking it up already this morning. He had us wife make us coffee, tea and hot chocolate.

After breakfast Tyler and I hauled the bags out to the van while the girls settled our bill with Ton. It was quite cold outside with frost everywhere we looked. Behind the hotel unseen to us when we arrived in the dark of the previous night, stood a solitary horse in a little corral. He was emitting puffs of steam each time he took a breath. I found that I was doing the same thing as I sat in the van trying to warm it up. After ten minutes in the van waiting for the others to leave the hotel, I was starting to get the impression there might be some sort of billing problem. I shut down the van and went back to the hotel. Inside I found Veldman entertaining the rest of my group with stories of his family and his experiences in the police. He was in his glory this morning. I don’t think he wanted to see us go. His family is probably all too familiar with his tales and he welcomed us as a new audience.

After he finished his 15 minute set we got out of there and started the now un-warm van. Six pairs of hands bid Ton adieu as we swept out of the huge arcing driveway. The little road that led us there the night before didn’t seem anywhere near as daunting as we headed toward the Austrian border.

The ride through this section of the Czech Republic was almost as interesting as our detour the previous day. We were in the area known as “Bohemia”. The village of Kaplice which we had to drive by as we headed South was inhabited by a predominately German population in the early 20th Century. When Hitler was searching for an excuse to invade Czechoslovakia in the 1930’s he proclaimed that he was coming to the rescue of these ethnic Germans. When the Nazis moved-in much of the non-German residents were expelled or sent to concentration camps. When the War ended and the Communists took over, Czechs from other parts of the country were encouraged to resettle here when the ex-Nazis were dealt with.

Driving toward the Austrian border which was only about 20 minutes away we passed through country that reminded me very much of the farmland on the Pennsylvania-Maryland border. Isolated homes and a few rather small farms sat alongside the road. Often we passed little homes that had additions built for the sole purpose of selling booze, souvenirs or tacky lawn ornaments. It looked like this region of the Republic specialized in the art of tacky lawn ornaments such as ceramic gnomes, metallic lawn balls and garish birdbaths. Believe it or not, we weren’t even tempted.

Maybe I was getting used to the Czech Republic because today things didn’t seem so depressing here. This even looked like a pleasant area to live in. There was lots of empty land with rolling fields and uncluttered roads. But when we reached the border town of Dolni Dvoriste we felt we were back in the Cold War Republic again. Here was another ultra-drab, rundown grey little hamlet. Even the name of the local gas station fit the melancholy mood- “Devil”. No doubt the next time we visit this will all have changed, especially with the complete disappearance of the border Just after we passed through the derelict customs tollbooths we emerged in happy, friendly Wullowitz, Austria. We were now back in the world of corporate entities with advertising everywhere we looked. Cars were actually painted in colors other than white and black. Homes had tiled roofs. People had gardens and shrubbery. We were back in the West - the Land of Freedom.

And just as we were exhaling in relief after leaving the one time police state of Czechoslovakia, we were slowed by a four car Austrian police roadblock. A half dozen angry looking Polizei stood around directing random cars off the road. Maybe they were searching for contraband lawn ornaments. Fortunately they didn’t pull us over, but I was so flustered I passed right by an important landmark in the town of Freistadt. I was advised of my error then attempted to reverse direction on the narrow town streets. After five minutes of passing such mundane points of interest as old churches, Medieval walls and the local tourist bureau, I made my way up to the jewel of our quest - a Lidl store!

I’m not exactly sure why we were so eager to shop there, but we somehow found a way to spend the next 45 minutes ransacking the store. We loaded-up on more candy, beer, sausage (Wurst) and cheese too take home. We also grabbed a few items for our anticipated New Years’ Eve bash at whatever hotel we were staying at.

When we finally got out of there it was already late morning and we still had nearly two hours to go before reaching Salzburg. Usually stores in Europe close early on Saturday so we hoped to reach Salzburg before everything closed for the weekend. As usual before we were 10 miles outside of town my crew was fast asleep. This allowed me to press a little harder on the gas and make-up for lost time. By the time we were on the A7 Autobahn and nearing the outskirts of Salzburg the sun was shining brightly and we found our van traveling within a pack of Italian Weekenders speeding for the ski slopes.

Despite some rather heavy traffic in town we ended-up in the Mirabell Palace section of Salzburg rather easily. We had to do a little driving around before locating an empty (free) parking spot on an upscale residential block. For once I wasn’t doing this just to save a few bucks. The parking lots all seemed to be underground and posted signs indicating rather low clearance. I had had enough of taking those kinds of risks. The gamble this time was not paying for parking at the meter next to our van. We assumed or hoped that there would be no fines on a Saturday.

It took forever to rally everyone out of the van then out to find a bathroom. We detoured two blocks away from our intended route in order to utilize the toilets at the Hotel Pitter on Rainerstrasse. You’d never get away with sneaking six people through the hotel lobby and then into their rest rooms during the busy summer season, but in the dead of winter and with no one really paying attention we found sweet relief.

I led the group through the very formal Mirabell Gardens outside the palace. We had never walked through this renowned Salzburg tourist attraction before. Even in the off season the gardens were nicely decorated and the fountains while not operating, were at least uncovered and available for photos. When we used to visit here back in the 1980’s all the fountains were covered with wooden boxes to prevent them from the ravages of winter. Elsewhere in town the more precious ones were now covered with clear Plexiglas enclosures.

We had a nice walk from the gardens past the Opera then across the Salzach River via the Makartsteg pedestrian bridge into the Old Town. It was after 3:00pm and time to eat again. A highlight… no, a “must”… was to grab a Bosna sandwich on the Getreidegasse. The Bosna is a Balkan specialty sausage served on a toasted roll then covered by spicy ketchup, tons of raw onions and curry powder. We had been chowing down at the little tiny booth next to McDonald’s every time we visited over the past 25 years. The shop was run by a family of dark, brooding Gypsy-like people who spoke no English and barely spoke German. Eating there was reminiscent of standing in line at the Soup Nazi’s kitchen on “Seinfeld” - you quietly inched up in the long line and when it was your turn you held up your fingers indicating how many and then muttered “Bosna”. No other words except maybe repeating the finger thing then uttering “Fanta”. If you want to risk it you might ask for a Coke, but that would be crazy. Then you handed the lady a moderate denomination bill because you had no idea how much she was asking for. Our last visit was just two Christmases before.

The Getreidegasse was jammed with wall-to-wall holiday visitors. The streets were alive with the sounds of people. And it was quite an interesting crowd. I never saw so many women with real fur coats and hats walking so many little wussy dogs in my life. There were tourists about but the majority of people were Austrian or German. When the girls stopped behind me to gaze into window displays there was nowhere safe for me to stop and wait. I was jostled everywhere I went. If I stood in a doorway, sure enough somebody would try to get past me in an effort to get in. If I stood off to the side of the alley against a closed store window there would soon be people wanting to see what was behind me. Standing in the center of the street would’ve been suicide.

We very gradually made our way up the street toward the Bosna shop. I found it a little odd that we were almost at the far end of the Getreidegasse and I still hadn’t seen the McDonald’s golden arches sign hanging up among the multitude of wrought metal merchant signs. McDonald’s had actually gone out of business! Worse was the realization that the little Bosna shop was also gone. In its stead was a tiny pizza joint which seemed to be run by those very same Balkan immigrants.

I think I was close to tears when someone noticed a sign behind us directing us to “Bosna” down the next side alley. As we sprinted around the corner we were shocked to see a line of about twenty people patiently standing in front of an even smaller shop than the old stand. The line moved quickly and we finally got our Bosna and Fantas. The new proprietors actually smiled and spoke to us in understandable German. They even gave us extra napkins. That was a clue. Sure enough, the Bosna was a disappointment. Not enough stinky onions and the Wurst was a little off. Another tradition dies. Damn the European Union!

For once I didn’t spill any Bosna juice on myself, although other nameless people did. When we finished off our snack we returned back to the milling masses in the Getreidegasse. We spent about an hour window shopping and dodging bodies. A few Holiday booths were selling New Years’ paraphernalia with the primary motif incorporating fat pink pigs. Oddly enough nobody was selling leftover Christmas stuff. Those sales must be in January.

I had hoped to finally take the funicular up the mountain to the Hohensalzburg Fortress. But just as it had been two years ago, it was closed once again. I thought it was because of snow and ice the last time we came but it appears they shut it down all winter. There really wasn’t much else to do but walk around enjoying the crowds and the cold. Most of the stores were now closed and there really wasn’t anything we were particularly looking for. As we were about to head out of the Old Town and return to our vehicle, we used the restrooms of the Sternbrau restaurant/brewpub. I had planned to have dinner here one night while we were staying nearby. While I was standing around waiting a well-dressed guy came to me and asked in English whether I needed help. At first I said “no”, then asked him if we needed to make reservations for dinner if we wished to return that night. He said we didn’t, then gave me his card which indicated that he was the manager. He said that he would make sure we got a table no matter when we returned. We told him we’d be back in a few hours. I always assume that where we are staying in Berchtesgaden is much closer to Salzburg than it actually is.

After making a last minute stop in a tiny souvenir shop we navigated back the way we had come. As the sun dropped in the West we felt we were about to freeze crossing the bridge over the Salzach. By now the Mirabell Gardens were almost deserted. We found our car all alone on the residential street but with no ticket or boot.

It was completely dark when we crossed from Austria into Germany. Again we found ourselves driving in a pack of cars topped with ski racks. The area was just buzzing with Eurotrash hitting the ski slopes during this extended holiday weekend.

It took a little over half an hour to reach Berchtesgaden. When planning this trip and arranging accommodations from the safety of my home office, I had booked, rebooked and re-rebooked our reservations for the nights of 29 and 30 December. I kept finding better websites and better deals. Two weeks before we actually left on the trip I had booked three rooms at a farmer’s home up above Berchtesgaden and near the scenic Konigsee. Since I hadn’t had to give them a deposit at the time I was in a bit of a hurry to get there before they started to worry about us being no-shows.

Nuvi got us ever closer and closer to Meislerlehen. The street that this Gasthaus was located on climbed up the side of the mountain. As we headed uphill Nuvi seemed unable to determine just where Richard-Voß-Strasse 80 was. We saw signs for #60, #70, #74, #78 then #88 and on up. We turned around and tried the other side of the street. The numbers there didn’t jive either. We turned around again. We repeated this process at least 4 times. Finally we detected a house behind the driveway of one of the houses with a number in the 70’s. I drove back there and saw a tiny “Meislerlehen” sign on the door. Telling the others to remain inside the van I walked up to the darkened building. After a couple of knocks the outside light went on and a little lady opened the door. She spoke no English and her German was a dialect I barely understood. I tried speaking in Hochdeutsch (High German is what we learn in school), but my German sucks. I was able to ask if she had rooms ready for us. She looked totally confused. In half English/half German I said I had booked through the internet. She had no idea what I was talking about. I showed her my printout of the reservation. She shook her head and acted like she had never seen such a thing before. Eventually I determined that she was saying she could give me one double and one single but nothing else. I think she may have been offering to find room for the others at a friend’s house, but I’m not sure nor did that make any sense. I just told her that I was sorry that there was a mix-up and that I would look elsewhere. As I left I’m not sure, but I think she was saying, “Good Luck sucker”.

Back in the van I told the others the story and said we needed to look elsewhere. Nobody else but Gail and I seemed too concerned. Fortunately we still had Nuvi with us. I requested directions for the local tourist office and we drove there in just a few minutes. It was now after 6:30 and I was beginning to get a bit upset. We parked and Gail and I walked up to the tourist office where a sign on the door said it was closed. However lights were on inside and the door was unlocked. We walked in. Inside the office there were a few chairs and a computer. In another room off to the left side we could see the actual tourist office full of brochures and a help desk. It was locked and apparently shutdown for the weekend. They had closed at 6:30. We tried the computer and lo and behold it was on. Best of all it gave us access to the tourist office’s website. We couldn’t use the rest of the internet unless we inserted coins in the moneybox, but we were able to type in a request for available accommodations. When we initially requested just hotel accommodations the reply we got was that the only available rooms were over $1000 a night at the Intercontinental . Adjusting our request to reflect an interest in any available accommodations we were given a slew of places with rooms available. We wrote down the 5 most interesting ones and returned to the van in high spirits.

The first place we drove to was also up on the side of the mountain but easy to locate. After parking in a nasty ice-filled lot I walked up to this similarly darkened Pension. It took even more knocks to summon someone to the door. They finally answered and told me that they were totally booked with skiers for the next few nights.

From there we tried another place on the list with the same lack of results. Then driving back toward the tourist office we saw an area with three different inns and a hotel. One Gasthof was full when we walked in. The next one we walked into reminded me of the place Clint Eastwood and Richard Burton walked into in “Where Eagles Dare”. It was a noisy and boisterous crowd filling the room with noise and smoke. A young waitress told us that they didn’t have rooms. They just served food. Then we tried the expensive-looking Stoll’s Hotel Alpina. The guy working inside listened to our now rather desperate request then told us his place was booked. He offered to check a few other places but after about ten minutes of phone calls he had no success. He wished us good luck and gave us each a little bottle of local Schnapps. On our way out I saw that rooms in this hotel were over 200 Euros a night.

It was now approaching 8:00. I was freaking out and Gail was worried too. The others were in their own little worlds. As we drove out of Schnonau we kept our eyes peeled for promising places on the way to Berchtesgaden. Everyplace seemed packed with cars or had their lights off. As we passed Berchtesgaden I said to Gail that it was hopeless to just keep asking around this close to all the ski resorts. We’d be better off heading toward Munich. As we headed North toward the Autobahn I tried a couple of other innocuous inns alongside the local B20 highway. They were full too. I wondered if we could survive a night in the van.

By now I was thinking out best chance would be much further North; somewhere off the Autobahn. Maybe near Munich. We were beginning to get a light snow as we approached the next large town - Bad Reichenhall. I was just beginning to think that this might be a good place to look for rooms when Gail and Tyler pointed to the left side of the car where they spotted a big parking lot and a well-lit large building. When I looked closer I didn’t see any indications that this was a hotel but I decided to turn around and give it a try. Just as I made a left turn with the intention of heading back down the highway I spotted a sign for Edelweiss beer and blue and white checked Bavarian flags festooning off a half-timbered building. There were only a couple of cars in the lot and the lights were on so Gail and I headed inside the Gasthof Bauerngirgl .

The little old lady who met us inside also spoke no English but when I asked if they might have 3 double rooms, she smiled and said “ja”. We would’ve signed anything she placed in front of us and accepted anything she had given us right then and there, but she patiently led us upstairs to show us the three rooms she was offering. We were more than satisfied. They were typical alpine Zimmers with white pine beds and fixtures. A bathroom with shower was in each room. There was even a balcony which could serve as a refrigerator for our Lidl purchases. We told her we’d take them and then rather meekly inquired whether dinner was still available. She took a peek around the corner into the kitchen, looked at the cook, then said, “Oh ja”.

When we returned to the van and herded-up our nonplussed companions we made it clear that they should mach schnell because the lady was evidently leaving the kitchen open just for us. We hustled into the cozy little dining room and quickly ordered dinner from the surprisingly ample menu. We tried to be as unobtrusive and undemanding as possible. Tyler and I ordered a delicious pancake soup. Then had Rahmschnitzel for the main course. Even this last minute meal thrown together for us was absolutely wonderful. About the time the first round of drinks showed-up another group of skiers showed-up for dinner. They didn’t even bother to ask if it was too late. They were still carousing when we called it a night.

Even though we hadn’t made it back to where I really wanted to have dinner in Salzburg, this turned-out to be a great meal. It was reasonably priced and we felt sated by the time the bill came around. We were up in our rooms ready for bed by 11:00pm. A night that looked like it was headed for disaster had ended-up with a great meal and a nice comfortable alpine bed.

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Photos

Cassie Packs It Up
Cassie complains about my snoring every morning. Maybe if she didn't take 4 hour naps in the van she might be able to slep through a little bit of nasal whistling. It was right about this point that I unpacked the spare duffelbag and began to fill it with our purchases made along the way.

Ton of Fun
I'm not sure if our host genuinely like us or if he was just happy to have some paying guests rather than his freeloading realtives, but Mr. Veldman really went out of his way to make our stay special. I have trouble imagining this guy in his previous role as a cop.

Hotel Zamecek Kaplice
Even though it wasn't built until the 19th Century, our hotel was labelled a "castle hotel". Evidently somebody important, other than us, stayed here at one time.

Old Steamy
Ton's horse didn'y look like he was enjoying the blustery weather either. He looked like a locomotive everytime he took a breath. I'm not too sure this little old blanket was affording him much warmth.

They Proudly Serve the Real Bud
As much as we enjoyed ourselves at this castle hotel I bet it's even better staying here in the summer. It would be nice on a long summer evening to sit out on the back deck sipping genuine Czech Budweisers while Old Steamy trots around below.

Return to the Main Road
That wicked country road we had negotiated in the dark last night seemed much more senic in the morning. Just behind us was that development of California-style homes. What a view they have.

A Lidl Bit of Paradise
Strategically located just over the border from the Czech Republic was our favorite discount store, Lidl. I think we wiped-out their candy and soda reserves. To the left of this location the Austrian police were stopping anyone that looked at them the wrong way. I kept my eyes closed as we drove past.

Scenic Overlook
It was at this point just outside Salzburg that the sun reappeared from behind the thick clouds. Seemingly every skiier in Europe pulled into this rest stop to take advantage.

St. Andra Kirche
Once we found a parking spot in downtown Salzburg, then gone to a bathroom, we headed toward Mirabell Gardens. Across the street stands the St. Andra Kirche which is most famous as the departure point of the Sound of Music tours. They are waaaaay out of our price range now.

I Can't Believe We Never Visited Here Before
After pushing a busload of Japanese tourists out of my way I was finally able to make my way up a ramp where every photographer who has visited Salzburg takes this same scenic shot.

No Protection for Pegasus
Maybe they want this statue to have ice form on it then crack and break. Just about every other statue we saw in Salzburg was well-protected by some sort of winter cover. At least they didn't turn on the water.

Hohensalzburg Fortress
There are so many picturesque landmarks in this pretty place, but I find this to be the most imposing. And it's still one of the most elusive for us. Once again the funicular up to the fortress was closed.

How Long would This Last in the U.S.
Even though we do see grafitti everywhere in Europe, so far the historic and high culture sights have been protected. I wouldn't give this unicorn's horn 5 minutes in an American park.

Where We Were
This is the view looking back at the area where we took those maginficent pictures of the fortress on the hilltop,

The Forgotten Von Trapp Children
Evidently somebody's watched the Sound of Music once too often.

The "Other" Home of the Sacher Torte
Salzburg also has a Sacher Hotel and they also claim to be the birthplace of the famed chocolate cake. Somebody's lieing.

Looking Across the Salzach
Standing on the opposite bank of the river looking into Old Town. Look at all those church domes.

Now Looking Upriver
Not much to see in this direction is there?

And Now Looking Downriver
In the opposite direction we can see the main multi-purpose bridge that spans the two sections of Salzburg. We are standing on the pedestrian bridge.

Standing Around on the Makartsteg
It was darn cold standing here above the rushing river. Thank goodness Gail only made me take one picture.

No Place to Hide
Or to just get out of the way. The Getreidegasse was packed with clueless tourists and snotty local aristocrats. Few of the stores were open but everybody was taking their time window shopping and parading in their new Holiday attire.