Take a hat

Wandering in the Weissenbachtal in June A rushing stream in the Weissenbachtal It was busy at the bus stop as we waited for the bus up to Sportgastein. The waiting tourists despite their advanced years had failed to grasp the basics of queuing and, as soon as the bus arrived, they stampeded for the door! None of them had their money ready so the bus left late. We avoided getting crushed and still found seats for the 45 minute ride up to Sportgastein, our gateway to the Hohe Tauern National Park. The Park is the largest in Central Europe. It’s a mix of rugged mountains and high alpine farmland. I was sticking to the farmland and made my way across the flat area where the cross-country skiing tracks are laid in winter.  Down there are the Cross-country paths in winter A left turn at the end took me up the Weissenbachtal, a valley that’s between the Kreuzkogel mountain, where we downhill ski  in winter, and the ridge of mountains that separate the Salzburg Region from Carin

Flowers, Marmots and Snow in Summer TW ready for a hot drink It’s been an up and down couple of weeks in Gastein.  Apart from all the mountain walks and the cycling, the temperature has been climbing and falling quite a bit. TW was not too impressed with the four inches of snow we found at the top one day.   Marmot exclusive - in a bit of a hole Not sure what the marmots think of it all. They hibernate under the ski pistes in winter but have the run of the place now. They don’t take too kindly to my wanderings and let out one helluva shout when they see me approaching. They are pretty elusive, this little groundhog scurried down into its burrow when I tried to take a picture. Have noticed in the shops some form of medicine or ointment that they make from Marmot so don't blame him for being less than welcoming. The hairy bottomed snow bell? The mountains look green from a distance but viewed close up there are a myriad of different flowers making up the pastures

Farms and fields in Gastein Biberalm – the long and winding road June 2011 Sometimes you can look forward to something for months but then, on the day, it’s a big let-down. Bit like losing a long anticipated Cup Final. Just occasionally everything falls into place and, like my bike ride today, expectations are exceeded and it’s a winning game.  Mind you, my expectations might be a lot lower than many peoples.  I attempted to cycle up to Biberalm last year but thunder and lightning caused me to beat a hasty retreat from about half-way up. This time I picked a warm and sunny June morning. Biberalm is very high at around 1730m but is one of the more accessible mountain huts. Visitors without the necessary puff can get there by car or minibus via a steep and winding toll road. Walkers can get to it by a long traverse over from the Schlossalm or by climbing up from behind Bad Hofgastein railway station; first through farmland and then on mature forest paths. A gap in the tre

The Sound of Raindrops on Roses Salzburg still looks pretty good in bad weather and a few raindrops on the roses didn’t dampen our enthusiasm for a wander around the narrow streets and gardens of the old town. The streets were empty as the tourists were forced inside.   We joined them eventually and had a nice delayed birthday meal at St Peters Stiftskeller. This claims to be the oldest restaurant in Central Europe, it’s been serving since 803 AD.   The toilets are much more recent. The cheap end of the menu is pretty reasonable. That’s one of many good things about Austrian restaurants.   The first glance at the menu might cause a sharp intake of breath but they normally have a few simple, standard, dishes that locals can afford.

Down goes the sun - into the Atlantic Travelling on a budget means making sacrifices. For us it means forsaking restaurant meals and making full use of self-catering facilities. At the top end of the scale, like in Salcombe, the fully functional kitchen was more than a match for our homestead.  Our usual accommodation, unfortunately, is more likely to have just a couple of electric rings and maybe a microwave. So, while others on a trip pack for fashion and style, the first thing that goes into our case is our Wok.  Biking through the pines It might seem a little odd but picture the scene. It’s the end of the day, the sun is on the way down but it is still distributing a warm glow. The Wok is out on the terrace on an extension lead. A nice piece of fish or steak is chopped and ready to fry. A bottle of the obligatory local Bordeaux wine is open and the glass is primed.   Enjoy your meal sir – too right I will! Footsteps in the sand Getting the Wok to the beach side apa