Heidi, Heidi, ho

I don’t know the difference between the Swiss Alps and the Austrian Alps, but now that I’ve been to Tirol I have a hard time imagining that the ones in Switzerland are any prettier.

Check out my hotel room. It has a view of the mountains. In the corner is a tiny TV. This is the correct ratio of screen size to room square footage anywhere, but especially in Innsbruck. If you are such a moron that you have to watch TV while faced with one of the most spectacular vistas on earth, you deserve the muck that you’re being fed. I especially like the TV’s location because to properly view it from bed you need to have your neck broken in at least two places.

I’m a messy sleeper.

Here is a map of the route I took today. The goal was the Saile summit but like most goals it remained unreached, at least by me. That’s because I’m weak and because I started my hike at my hotel instead of taking the bus to the base of the climb. In Innsbruck the minute you leave the Inn River, you go up. Steeply. Immediately. So even though I spent five hours hiking uphill, I never got to the top. Next time.

It’s an even longer way to Tipperary, I am told.

Before I got too carried away with exercise, I stopped at a cafe and had a cup of coffee and a custard-filled-something-or-other. It was the best pastry I’ve ever had in my life, but thankfully it had zero calories as it was made of broccoli.

Health food

Here are a bunch of trail pictures. The scenery is amazing but you really need to be in shape to enjoy it. Otherwise you will be like me, happy but miserably tired beyond any words.

The Tirolean Alps are very civilized. You march up the steepest stuff until you think your legs are going to fall off, and then you get to a little hut that serves food, coffee, beer, wine, and scenery. And in summer and fall, they serve perfect weather, too. The one on the right even had WiFi, so you could log in to be reminded how hateful it is to have to work, and how pleasant it is to stroll around without purpose.

It took forever to get down from that second hut; the trail was steep and muddy and rocky and treacherous. Plus, my legs were beat to Jell-O. At the bottom there was a road with a bus stop. I prayed to dog for a bus, and one came. See? There is a dog! The bus took me about five miles down and then I had to hoof it another three miles in order to experience what was certainly the most beautiful sight of the day:


I pretty much ate it pretty much quickly and reflected that I’d hiked for eight hours on nothing but two pieces of bread, some butter, half a box of cookies, a broccoli pastry and two coffees. So I sat there not feeling guilty and pleasantly killed time until I had to hike the remaining two miles home. I was pretty satisfied.

Not winning any beauty contests here. Or anywhere.


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