tyrolling through the middle of our trip

Rolling in Tyrol. We have been at this touring thing since June 4, and, please try to withhold your sympathy -- it can be exhausting. Knowing we were likely to be feeling this way, Keri had the foresight to schedule in a bit of r&r in the form of an alpine vacation from a vacation, or six days in the  spectacular Tyrol region of Austria. The Tyrol (or Tirol, as the locals spell it), is that western arm of Austria, wedged in between Italy, Switzerland and Germany. It includes the eastern most section of the Alps, and it's regional capital, Innsbruck, twice hosted the Winter Olympics. We stayed in Seefeld in Tirol, one of several towns in the mountains above Innsbruck. It is, in brief, really nice. Cool, clean air, spectacular mountains and wonderful hiking. We have nothing bad to say about Tyrol except that it suffers by comparison to our beloved Pontresina, the mountain town in Switzerland, just over 100 miles from here, on the other slope of this section of the Alps, where the Swiss just seem to do things a little better.

Items May be Smaller Than They Appear on the Internet. Seefeld is the high-end village in Tyrol, from what we can tell. It is a ski town, first and foremost, with several ski areas and a town center filled with decent restaurants, local shops, and outdoor sporting good stores. Our hotel, The Princess Bergfrieden, is quaint and comfortable. It is a short walk from the town center. Paul and Mirjam, its owners, hail from the Netherlands and, are extremely nice and helpful, qualities they imbue in their staff, who made sure that gluten-frei, lactose-frei Keri had plenty to eat at breakfast. The hotel is smaller than we expected, based on its on-line profile, and with a room right above the kitchen and parking lot, we were exposed to the early morning smell of toast and the sounds of late-night conversations in foreign languages. From Owen's perspective, it suffers in comparison to the Hotel Walther, where he is very, very well taken care of, with bowls of apples on the staircase and the waitstaff ready with his nightly pasta with butter, pommes frites and strawberry sorbet, before the words can even form in his own mind, let alone cross his lips. To be fair to the Princess, it is not a fair comparison, as these are really different levels of accommodation. Perhaps the experience will provide our children with a little bit of perspective, from an uber-first world perspective, that is, but still perspective.

Alpine Hiking is Great, Nearly All the Time. The three things we were most looking forward to here were cool weather, beautiful mountains and hiking. Check, check and check. The weather was perfect, mostly sunny with highs in the low-70's during the day and cool enough at night to make for restful sleep with the windows open. The mountains are extremely impressive, rising up several thousand feet, seemingly out of nowhere. And the hiking was very good -- clean air, good exercise and just a lovely way to spend several hours. The one thing I would take issue with in the Tyrol is that finding the hikes was slightly challenging. There are maps aplenty for Seefeld and the Tyrol, but they are of limited use -- either covering too large a space (i.e., the entire region) or not having clear and identifiable trail makings with distances, times and elevation changes. There is an on-line listing of hikes, as well, but the information available there is also hard to navigate through, as much of it is in narrative form, describing landmarks and buildings as though the reader knows exactly what is being described. Perhaps it is intentional, and there is an expectation that most of the hikers are locals, or at least return visitors.

On Tuesday, the four of us walked to the Moosealm, a lake nestled in the hills above Mosern. There we found plenty of locals, basking in the sun, and swimming in what had to be pretty cold waters. There is also a play area that includes an obstacle course built for people smaller than me. After being cajoled by my children, I gave in and went through the course, grateful to emerge with nothing broken. Our walk back to Seefeld took us by the olympic cross-country skiing course and, as is often the case in this part of the world, involved some refreshing afternoon rains.


With Lauren taking a day off, the next day's hike was up the Rosshutte, the ski-mountain behind our hotel. Keri, Owen and I walked up to the top of the funicular, passing along the way plenty of cows, free-range horses and a beautiful mountain lake. The last several hundred feet of the hike provides a clear view of the station at the top of the funicular, tantalizingly close, yet feeling so far. This prompted Keri and Owen to ditch the switchback trials and go straight up the vertical grasses below the station. We all made it in one piece, happy to enjoy some lunch and inspiring views of Seefeld below, particularly as some afternoon storm clouds rolled in. They look less foreboding when you are safe inside a building, knowing you can take a train back to the bottom.

On Thursday, we headed the opposite direction, up into the hills that lead to the Wildmoos Alm, a scenic mountain hut next to a lake and number of grazing cows. We continued on Leutasch, a long valley that runs up to Mittenwald and the German border. We (by which I mean I) went the wrong direction in the valley, taking us away from the restaurants and shops and toward a more remote area. We found a bus stop that would get us back to Seefeld, so we sat down and ate, next to a church with a Byzantine dome, small graveyard, and memorial listing young men who died in the First and Second World Wars.

By Friday, and with the promise of a non-strenuous hike, I convinced Lauren she needed to re-join the family as we went to the Geisterklamm, a gorge that runs up to the German border that we were told we should not miss. I conferred with Keri before heading out that there may be some height issues, as there was a metal walkway built into the side of the gorge. Keri signed off. And, as you can see from this photo at the start of the hike, everyone seems super excited. Keri was the first to face her fears, clinging to life as she walked on the metal walkways that allowed for clear viewing, way, way down into the gorge. We made it across a bridge that spanned the gorge, after which Keri said she was NOT GOING BACK THROUGH THAT CRAP. And, so we pressed on, getting to the end, where I could see there was a non-gorge path back for her. Unfortunately for Lauren, the only way back involved a good twenty minutes of uphill trekking, which she finished, but not without cursing her father.

If you are in the area, and have no substantial acrophobia, I highly recommend the Geisterklamm, as the metal walkways really do allow you a totally different experience walking through this lush and vibrant gorge.

Food Successes and Failures. We had some hits and misses in the Tirol food department. On the hit side, as pictured here, Owen got to pick his dinner (which seems to be staring right back at him) while Keri stood to the side. More seriously, Lauren enjoyed Nannis Cafe, in particular the stracciatella sundae, complete with stracciatella gelato, banana sorbet, banana pieces, chocolate sauce and whipped cream. I did not think she would be able to wrestle that beast by herself, so I helped. All of us also had excellent meals at Pauly Bar. Lauren said her linguine was the best pasta she has had on this trip. I can vouch for the black linguine and clams, and the tiramisu, which I split with my dessert buddy.

The Princess breakfasts were pretty good, too. They have an outstanding all-in-one coffee machine, with a bean grinder, that makes everything from espresso, to coffee to cappuccinos. All that was missing was a separate setting for almond milk.

As far as failures go, Keri had a couple dicey calls regarding the critical difference between eis (ice cream) and frozen deserts that are not eis. You would think it would be pretty straight-forward, the Italians doing the world a favor by not only perfecting gelato and sobreto, but creating clear names for each, so not as to screw up the lactose sensitive among us. And yet, two times, Keri tried diligently to order sobreto, and, seemingly, came away with gelato. On one occasion, the woman had in front of her a placard in front of each item, making clear -- in theory -- what was what. Only she told Keri that two items -- one that was self-described as without dairy and one with -- were both lactose free. It was hard to trust anything she said after that, particularly after Keri's stomach did not appreciate whatever it was she ate.

The second fail was at a sushi restaurant. Long story short, we arrived as the restaurant opened, sat down and ordered. There may have been one table that ordered before us. And yet, our sushi was very slow in coming. General incompetence, I can accept, so I assumed the sushi chefs were just slow. As I saw other sushi orders make their way to tables of people who ordered at least 30 minutes after us, I decided to say something. I cannot recall the last time I complained in a restaurant. It is just not something I do. Pretty much ever. But, when the possibility of incompetence was replaced by the certainty of unfairness, I could not sit still. I found the owner, who explained that the summer can be very busy, that there are lots of orders and he could assure me that "no one was served before [us]." I asked how he could possibly do that, in particular because I just saw that exact thing happen. I said there may have been no bad intent behind it, but I could assure him it had just happened -- at least twice. Miraculously, our dinner came out a few minutes later, along with a really half-hearted apology, a reminder that sushi takes time to prepare because it is rolled by hand and his assurance to me that the food would taste good (it did) and that was what really mattered (yes and no). I really do like it when people talk to me like I an an idiot. I probably should have insisted for something more at that point, but I suppose I was happy enough to get some pretty good sushi in the Alps.

Thoughts on Tyrol. I doubt we will come back to this area, not because there was anything not worthy of return, but because of its similarity and relative inferiority to our Pontresina. Tyrol is outstanding, all on its own, and worthy of a visit if you are in Vienna, Munich, or anywhere in between.