Um... oops!

The eagle-eyed amongst you may have noticed that this post, and the previous one have actually been published four years after the blog was begun.  I can only apologise.  If you have read the other posts, you will know that our 'holiday' was not without stress, culminating in a rather tense day in a hot Italian campsite.

It's fair to say that, while cathartic, the blog was becoming a bit too much for me to think about and my updates were slipping further and further behind.  It's also fair to say that I'm a lazy sod and my enthusiasm for such things often wanes as quickly as it arrives...  So, I gave up on the blog.  But it's always been in the back of my mind, these last four years, and I hate leaving things unfinished!  At my mother's insisting I have embarked on a new blog recently*, one that I aim to be much more concise and much less regular than this one.  But it has prompted me to return here and at least give it some kind of a conclusion.  I found my draft of the previous entry still saved so it hasn't taken too long to get it posted.  As for the rest of our holiday, I had the foresight to make a few notes, which enable me to briefly fill you in on a few of the further delights that were in store for us, such as:

• The Thursday in San Vigilio, where the campsite barriers all closed at lunchtime to facilitate 'quiet time' and resulted in our car being held hostage.  Cue another walk into the village for lunch.  Also, a second successful dinner at Da Arnold's (mmm pizza Diavola) and, somewhat fittingly, actual thunderstorms for our last night in the tent.
• The Friday, where, partly to placate me after the cycling incident, the Hub send me to the 4* hotel spa in the village and I learnt how much more revealing and thorough European massages are than British ones.  Only two words: paper pants.
• With this final and lasting memory forever emblazoned on my mind, the eventful departure from San Vigilio, where we again found ourselves at the mercy of unreliable satnav.
• The SHEER BLISS of arriving at Hotel Eden on Lake Garda and collapsing on AN ACTUAL BED.
• The surprise and hilarity that soon followed upon overhearing our German neighbours were finding their bed equally blissful but for quite a different reason.  And the childish sniggers we indulged in when encountering them at breakfast the next morning.  (Don't worry, our girls' delicate ears were insulated from it all due to innocence and the lure of bacon.)
• The very, very hot but great day meeting old friends at the Garda aquapark and a delicious meal in Sirmione (one of our favourite places in the world).
• The even nicer hotel in Brescia - complete rapture!
• The expensive drive through Mont Blanc into La France and the truly lovely but too short stay with my Auntie and Uncle near Grenoble.  Amazing chocolate cherry pie!
• The gorgeous, Alpine hotel in Chamonix and a yummy meal in the tiniest burger restaurant ever, Poco Loco - check it out!
• The somewhat precarious cable car ride up Aiguille de Midi and the biggest pot of Nutella that ever existed.
• Yet another accident prone cycle for the Hub that involved definite tree-hugging.  Also, my disappointment that the birthday GoPro stopped working and didn't record it.
• Brioche.  So much brioche.
• The drive into Switzerland, to Brig and the very small attic room in the hotel at the top of the very tall hill.
• The lovely trip into Zermatt on the train and lunch at the top of the Matterhorn (aka Toblerone mountain).
• The unsettling night in our tiny attic room spent shouting at drunk German men who kept stumbling through our unlockable door in the early hours, whilst we were all, at most, half dressed.
• The return journey through Germany, stuck in traffic for one and a half hours behind a Belgian caravan south of Mannheim.
• The lack of hotel booked for our final night in Frankfurt and the lack of wifi to locate one.  The eventual find and the local restaurant that served the biggest pizzas known to man - so big they couldn't find plates to fit them on.
• The thankfully less eventful drive back through Denmark with the obligatory stop at Legoland (because the first time wasn't enough, obviously), followed by the ferry back to Norway and the final drive home to Stavanger.

And that was it.  Our European Extravaganza.  Far more eye-opening and eventful that expected, that's for sure.  I can't say it was the most enjoyable holiday ever.  But, I'm very proud to say that my wonderful - if sometimes infuriating - family rallied like troopers to meet every obstacle and we easily had as many happy, funny, and warm-and-fuzzy experiences as bad ones.  And of course, with some distance in between us now, those difficult incidents have acquired the rosy-glow of challenges past - and always make excellent conversation!  We have so many memories, some of which are immortalised in a collage on our kitchen wall, now we've left Stavanger and are back in the UK.  

And I guess that's my blog complete, after all this time.  See, Niels-Henrik, I told you I'd do it!  Better late than never!

In case you were wondering, we have been camping once in the intervening years.  A week last summer in Cornwall.  It poured down almost the whole time.  It was absolutely freezing.  If the shivers didn't keep me awake, my back pain did.  We still have some great memories.  And I'm still never going camping again.

Until next time.




* If you haven't had absolutely enough of me, you can find the new blog here:
https://randommusingsofanunstablemind.blogspot.com/

San Vigilio - Wednesday

Wednesday turned out to be a slightly stressful day.  ‘Slightly’ may be an understatement.  We probably wasted too much time being lazy in the morning (but hell, it's a holiday...apparently...) so it was soon lunchtime and we didn't have any plans.  For the sake of ease we decided to eat at the on-site restaurant to make life easy... ha!

Literally the moment we zipped up the tent, about ten work vans came zooming up the track to the restaurant.  It seemed a little too much of a coincidence that all the workmen in the vicinity had chosen that moment, and that restaurant, for their lunch.  It was.  We walked up, hoping we'd still get a table.  It was slightly odd that everybody - and I mean everybody - in the place was a workman.  But, success!  We found somewhere to sit.  And then the waitress came over.  It turned out that Wednesday was everyone's day off - the restaurant staff included.  Therefore, they were serving three dishes for the locals and nothing else.  We were welcome to stay but we could only choose from what they had.  They were local dishes and sounded quite interesting, which meant that the girls turned their noses up at all of them...  In any case, I was starting to feel very out of place amongst all the workers, so we elected to find our lunch elsewhere.

This shouldn't have been a difficult thing to do...  Admittedly a lot of the restaurants in town didn't open until evening but there were still a fair selection to choose from, I felt.  But I was forgetting something that had lately become the bane of my life... Trip Advisor...

Now, in principle, Trip Advisor is a great thing and I use it a lot.  The trouble comes when someone in your party insists on every dining experience being first informed and approved by it.  So instead of doing things the old fashioned way and just finding a pleasant-looking place where you will likely get a decent meal, everywhere you come across has to be 'researched'...  And if there are more than about 2% negative reviews it is vetoed...

So when you have less than half a dozen places to choose from, two tired, hungry children and the sun beating down on you, it can make a simple job really rather hard work. After traipsing around the entire village I basically insisted on the closest place to us.  A place that turned out to offer just pizza.  Well, sure, it's Italy!  Unfortunately, Small Dolly wasn't too impressed with this idea. And neither of them liked the fact that their father and I just chose two different ones for us all to share.  Cue two very grumpy children.  Not that I could blame them by this point.  I was feeling pretty much the same.  Fortunately, the pizzas didn't take too long to arrive and were delicious enough to tempt even the sulkiest child.  And relax…

However, the most stressful part of my day was yet to come.

The Hub wanted to go cycling.  Yes, again!  The Dolomites are really quite unique and spectacular and he wanted to explore them, understandably.  But having looked at the map and the length and type of trail, I'm afraid there was no way I was going with him.  So the girls and I went with him to drop him off.  He planned all of his route over the mountain and showed me explicitly so we knew where he'd be going and where and when we should pick him up.  Straightforward, right? 

Wrong!  Having grossly underestimated the length and difficulty of the trail he took, the time he was meant to check in to say he was heading down the other side came and went without a peep.  And of course there was probably no signal on the mountain, so calling him yielded nothing. And it was fast becoming the hottest day of the holiday so far.  Having amused myself by reading the latest Empire magazine cover to cover, whilst sat in the sunshine, I was initially quite relaxed.  But checking the time and realising I should have heard from Hub some time ago sent me into the start of a panic that was only going to get worse.

Now, I’m a sensible, level-headed sort of person but I can be what is known as a ‘worrier’.  And as a further hour passed with no contact I began to be genuinely concerned about the boy’s whereabouts, and started having visions of him flying over his handlebars and lying unconscious in the merciless Italian heat.  Yes, I know it sounds dramatic, but some time had passed, and as recorded in yesterday’s post, he is wont to be quite violently separated from his saddle.

His phone was still out of range, so logically, he must have still been up in the mountains somewhere.  I had no way to contact him and no idea where he was.  I figured all I could do was drive with the girls to the pick up point he had indicated and hope he might turn up some point soon.  So we drove for a good half an hour around the mountain to the other side, me alternately trying not to cry and cursing his name under my breath.  Then, just as we were approaching our destination, my phone started ringing.

Imagine my relief to hear his voice and know everything was fine.  However, that was followed by a quite different emotion as he explained that the route had, indeed, been far harder than expected and he’d not even reached the top at the time he was meant to call me.  But it was quite all right, because he’d come across a great hostel and he stopped to have a drink and a good meal.  And there was signal on the mountain, it was just that he’d turned his phone off to save battery because he’d forgotten to charge it…

I realise, upon reflection, I may have reacted a tad...disproportionately to this.  But bearing in mind I had been in a genuine panic, thinking he was injured and far from help, to hear that he’d actually not planned half as well as he’d thought and that he’d been sat enjoying a meal and some banter, ignoring his phone, while I’d been haring through the Italian countryside hoping to find him one piece; bearing in mind that I retained some residual frustration from the lunchtime debacle earlier on...  Rage.  Pure, unadulterated rage was all I could feel.  Especially, when he then explained that he’d decided it was best to just turn around so could I now drive back around the mountain to meet him where he started.

Dear Reader, not my finest hour.  Let’s just say it was a fairly tense evening that followed, and leave it at that.

San Vigilio - Tuesday

I woke up quite chilly again on Tuesday, but it didn't take long for the sun to warm up the tent.  We decided against breakfast from the patisserie again and settled for using up some of our supplies.

Afterwards, I went down to the reception cabin for our next two hours of WIFI and found Very Helpful Viktor at the desk.  Just how helpful he was became apparent when he gave me not 2 but 24 hours worth!  Result!  While he was printing it off, he started talking to me about Mumford and Sons.  Apparently, he had seen them the night before in Verona and felt the need to share the experience with me.  I was more than happy to engage for a whole day of internet access!  When I returned, triumphant, to the tent, Hub asked if I'd flashed Viktor.  I think he may have been only half joking...!

The Hub had plans to cycle down another mountain but after the debacle on Friday, Small Dolly and I didn't make any pretense at wanting to try!  Number 1 was more enthusiastic but, learning from past mistakes, Hub suggested he ride the trail himself first to suss it out.  So up he went on another cable car with his bike.

I offered the girls an ice cream but the restaurant didn't offer any so we explored a little further afield...about 100 yards round the corner.  The first 100 yards I've ever driven in Italy, nonetheless!  The hotel there wasn't the most up-to-date place but they had ice cream so they fit the bill.  The girls each chowed down on another overloaded sundae while I had a much more refined single scoop of strawberry.  In a waffle cone.

We were still enjoying our refreshments when Hub appeared from his first trip down Kronplatz.  It soon became apparent that it hasn't been entirely successful, judging by the scrapes all down his arm and the skinned shoulder.  Ouch.  It turned out it might be just a little taxing for Big Dolly after all.  Undaunted, however, he went on back for a second shot - and managed to stay the right side of his handlebars.

We made proper use of the camping stove that evening and made pasta for dinner.  Hub had packed half the kitchen so it wasn't difficult to do.  We sat outside the tent and enjoyed the warm evening.  The young Italian guy who was camping next to us with his girlfriend came to borrow a corkscrew and wished us buon appetito.  Very pleasant!

San Vigilio - Sunday/Monday

San Vigilio - Sunday

Being Sunday, most places in the area were closed but the girls and I were ready for a nice, quiet day.  I woke up freezing in the tent and it turned out we'd picked the one spot that was in the shade of the restaurant.  Figures.  However, it didn't take long for the sun to make its presence known.  We enjoyed a breakfast of bits and pieces sat out the front of the tent while the temperature steadily grew.

Never content with sitting doing nothing (unfortunately), Hub suggested a walk into the village.  San Vigilio was a pretty place for a wander around.  The cemetery was interesting with its wrought iron grave markers and fresh flowers everywhere.  It wasn't easy to find a place for lunch but there was a café that sold amazing ice cream sundaes, so that did very nicely.  We also looked greedily through the windows of the patisserie next door and planned a visit for breakfast.

Afterwards we found the supermarket open, so bought a few things for our dinner back at camp, where we relaxed for the rest of the day, playing badminton with the Dollies.

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San Vigilio - Monday

Once we were awake enough to give our orders, Hub cycled down to the bakery for breakfast.  We feasted on croissants filled with the 'nuss' Nutella-like filling I'd discovered in Austria.  Delicious!

We'd read in the camp information booklet that South Tyrol Jazz Festival was currently taking place so it seemed like a good opportunity to catch some live music.  After some investigation, I found a band who were playing at a village about 50 minute's drive away and, as luck would have it, they also had a fun pool there.

After another fun(!) drive on the Dolomiti roads we came to San Candido.  A larger place than San V, it was nonetheless very charming and we easily found a seat outside a bistro for lunch.  The German influence was very present here, particularly in our choice of food...schnitzel and strudel yet again!  We had to change tables to the shade before our food had even arrived because the direct sun was so hot for our pale British skin!  We were entertained by a toddler at the next table who kept chatting to us incomprehensibly and by a cocky sparrow who was sniffing around for crumbs.

Following lunch, a short walk brought us to the Acquafun pool.  We had a couple of hours of good fun splashing around in the rapids and bubbles, and Little Dolly practiced her swimming.  It was very relaxing and the coolest place to be on a day with temperatures reaching 30°C.

The jazz band were called "Error 404 - Band Not Found" (lol!) and were playing at 5pm.  We stopped off at a camera shop en route for Carlo to get a memory card for his GoPro.  A big, expensive one, of course.  The couple that ran the shop were really nice and gave us a couple of suggestions for somewhere to eat.  We left the store and went to find the pedestrian area where the band were playing.  We arrived just in time; as we approached they were parading around the church, playing their first number.  They didn't have a very long set but it was great.  The lead trumpet hid himself in the crowd and surprised everyone by playing across street to the rest of the band.  They obviously enjoyed what they did and it made them great fun to watch.  Some of the trumpet solos were a little 'modern jazz' for my traditionalist taste but their Beyoncé cover was awesome!

Once they were finished, we tracked down the restaurant that had been recommended to us, a pizzeria in the old theatre building.  Unfortunately, we were seated in the front rather than in the old auditorium but I made sure to have a sneaky peek before we left.

We were all tired driving back to camp.  I'd like to say I was looking forward to my bed but that wouldn't exactly be true...  Nevertheless, it didn't take long for me to be sound asleep.

Werfen to San Vigilio - Saturday

So that we could get the van as packed up as possible, I had suggested that Hub and I slept in the tent on Friday night.  (We had previously bought a second airbed that we were using on top of the 'bed' in the van.)  Hub thought this was a good idea.  So did I, but not necessarily for the same reasons...

So ended our time sleeping in the van.  Unfortunately, sleeping in the tent was not a lot better.  The airbed had half deflated by Saturday morning so that I found myself touching the floor when I woke.  Oh well.

Once we finished packing up, we were to be leaving Austria and the lovely Camping Vierthaler, which I had grown quite attached to, for our next destination in Northern Italy.  As we were strangely quite organised and it was only a couple of hour's drive, we decided to make the most of our last morning in Werfen and visit Hohenwerfen, the castle setting of Where Eagles Dare (one of Hub's favourites).

It turned out to be a beautiful castle with lovely grounds, perched on the top of the hill - though not as high as it appears in the movie!  We caught the end of a falconry show, which was great for our eldest, who loves birds of prey.  Unfortunately, it was very wet again but it didn't dampen our enjoyment of the various exhibitions.  Hub's and my enjoyment, that is.  The girls were SO BORED of yet another castle!

So we collected our laundry from the campsite tumble dryer and said Auf wiedersehen to Austria.  

Driving through the Alps into Italy, we were struck by the contrast of the Dolomite mountains, which were very stark and rocky by comparison.  We had quite an adrenaline-filled drive down steep, windy mountain roads to arrive at Camping Al Plan in San Vigilio.  And would you believe, it started bloody pouring down as we arrived...

So we prepared to again pitch the tent in rain.  Very Helpful Viktor on reception gave us the choice of a few spots, none of which were particularly secluded.  We also got a card to activate the barriers and a wifi password.  Unfortunately, Camping Al Plan only allocated wifi 120 minutes at a time and then you had to go back for another.  Little Dolly was disgusted by this!  She'd been trying to get on Netflix from day one...

It seemed that someone had decided we'd had enough punishment because by the time Viktor had checked us in the rain had stopped.  Beautiful sunshine in which to pitch our tent.  However, nothing could be straightforward.  The whole of the campsite was covered by small gravel on top of very hard, stoney ground.  Not a problem for the caravans but not very easy to get tent pegs into.  After a certain amount of time with the help of various implements, including a spanner and a saucepan, we got all the pegs in at least halfway.  As long as there wasn't a tornado it would probably be ok...  Plus, we shaved an hour off our set up time!  Only two hours this time...!

With little energy or inclination to do much more, we decided to investigate Ristorante Da Arnold's, which was part of the site.  We had a very pleasant meal and our first proper experience of the South Tyrol people.  Being so close to the border, the Bolzano area is a bizarre mix of Italian and German.  The people speak both languages, often in the same sentence, which is a little disconcerting to begin with.  We listened to a family at a nearby table where the father spoke to his toddler in German, Italian and English interchangeably.  It was quite fascinating and a nice relaxed end to our first day in Italy.

Werfen - Friday

Friday was the Hub’s birthday.  Happy Birthday to him!  This meant that he got to pick the activity.  Which with him always means cycling.  Not just cycling, mountain biking.  And this year, to truly outdo himself, downhill mountain biking...  But first, breakfast and presents.  Being the fabulous wife that I am, I bought him a GoPro (mainly so we have video evidence when he crashes on his bike!)  He wasn’t expecting it at all so there was much warm fuzziness from giving a nice gift.  We spent a very pleasant time having breakfast in the sun. 

Then it was time for the cycling...

Hub had done his research beforehand to find a suitable destination for us all to take part.  Accordingly, off we went to Schladming.  So, too, did a few hundred bikers for a Harley Convention, which made things interesting.  At least they stayed at the bottom of the slope.  The plan was to take our bikes up on the cable car and then follow one of the downhill routes back to the bottom.  Easy, apparently...once the boy had spent half an hour putting all our bikes together because he’d had to take the wheels off to fit them in the van.  When we got to the uplift station, we discovered that each car could take one bike.  So Hub and then our youngest were almost shoved into separate cars with their bikes hung on the side.  For some reason, the attendant sent me in with our eldest while my bike travelled behind us unaccompanied.  Our youngest dolly is not the most confident girl and especially in new situations.  It was rather a long and bumpy ride to the top and I was a little worried about how she was taking it by herself.  Of course, she managed it no problem, making gestures out of the window to Dad in front to tell him when to get off.  Bless! 

Thirty seconds looking down from the cable car were enough to tell me I was NOT going to be taking the route that had planned.  It was steep, rocky and full of berms (banked corners) and jumps that Hub himself would think twice about tackling.  Luckily, when we were reunited at the top, Hub had come to the same conclusion.  So, after a spot of lunch, we decided to opt for what was optimistically labelled the Rookie Trail.  Suitable for beginners and families, apparently.  Ha!  Even the path to the start of the route was too steep for our youngest and me to cycle.  We began to follow the slightly flatter path until we got to the trail proper.  And then we stopped.  It started on a flipping berm, straight into a rocky drop off and hared off down the mountain, dodging and weaving like Muhammad bloody Ali.  There. Was. No. Way! 

Hub didn’t even bother trying to convince me; he knew it was way beyond what I was comfortable with, and our youngest, too.  Big Dolly, daredevil that she is, was more game and happy to have a go if Dad went first.  Hub felt bad about leaving us but I wasn’t going to stop him from his birthday cycle.  He’d been somewhat scuppered the year before because the person accompanying us, who shall remain nameless, pushed a bit hard up the initial hill and promptly fainted.  Which meant I got to excuse myself and take our guest down to the café for lunch!  Now it seemed I was going to get out of it again.  This was honestly not my intention!  I didn’t want to do it but I was going to anyway.  But I know my limits on a bike (through experience!) and I knew I couldn’t do this. 

So Hub and the Nutjob carried on while the little’un and I looked for an easier route down.  We tried, honest!  But of course there wasn’t one!  We were on a mountain!  So all we could do was head back down on the cable car.  Therefore, we had to push our bikes back up the way we had come, including the too-steep-to-cycle hill.  That was rather hard work.  At least we’d had some exercise.   

It was when we got to the top and sat down for a breather that something else occurred to me.  The Hub had our lift passes.  The Hub who was currently hurtling down the mountainside and expecting to meet us at the bottom.  There wasn’t a lot we could do so Little Dolly went for a play in the sandpit and I text him about the passes.  After a wee while, I had a call back.  They were only just at the midpoint of the trail and the cable cars closed in five minutes...  Oh dear.  I went straight to the attendant to explain our story and luckily she let us, plus bikes, onto the cable car.  I don’t want to think about what we’d have had to do if she’d said no!! 

Once the two of us were at the bottom, pretty knackered in the 22°C heat (we're used to Scotland and Norway, ok?), we took in all the hairy bikers, nearly got deafened by a Lambourgini and made our way back to the van.  Hub also had the keys.  Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait too long for the cyclists to get back.  It turns out that I had made the right decision.  The Rookie Trail turned out to be quite the opposite and Big Dolly had done amazingly to manage it all.  Hub estimated it to be more difficult than the Glen Livet (Scotland) red run that I had previously refused to entertain.  She got serious kudos for her achievement!

Four very weary people returned to Camp Vierthaler that afternoon.  Which was tough because we were leaving the next day and still had a lot to pack up!  With no energy – or time – for cooking, we decided on a birthday dinner of pizza from the site and sat in our camp chairs as the light faded.  Our youngest had the random but ultimately genius idea of playing what is now known as the Cookie Challenge.  I think she saw it on one of her awful American cartoons.  In any case, it resulted in a hilarious half an hour.  The idea is to place a cookie on your forehead and try to get it into your mouth only by using your facial muscles.  Cue a multitude of hilarious expressions.  We probably disturbed the rest of the campsite with our cackling.  Big Dolly was the champion in the end and beat us all hands down.  Aside from getting crumbs in your hair it’s the best party game I know. I urge you all to try it immediately!  Beware any of my future parties because it may well be a requirement. 

With the van packed up, we I joined the girls in the tent that night. 

Werfen - Wednesday/Thursday

Wednesday was rather a quiet day, so it doesn't make for very interesting reading.  Having completed such interesting tasks as laundry and having a shower - oh! the sweet, if short-lived, relief! - we got rather stuck in to playing table tennis.  This is one of the few sports I don't actually suck at (yes, it's a sport!).  We had so much fun we didn't actually get round to leaving the camp until 3 pm, by which time the Ice Cave we'd planned to visit was closed.  So instead we made a trip back to Salzburg, to the nice mall and huge InterSpar.  This supermarket was rather a revelation to us because the Spars we have in the UK are generally sparse, tatty little places.  Not so the Spars of Europe!  They are, at worst, well-stocked village stores, and at best, such as in Salzburg, vast utopias jam-packed with continental delicacies...  And I thought I'd have nothing worthwhile to write about!

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Thursday was a far more interesting day.  And bloody hard work as it turned out.  Having failed the day before, we got going much earlier (possibly even before noon!) and went to explore the Ice Cave, Eisriesenwelt.  It was only a few kilometres up the road, which seemed nice and convenient. Little did I know it was also 1641 metres above sea level.

Once we had driven up one of the steep, meandering mountain roads that we had quickly become used to, we then had a 20 minute hike, followed by a cable car, followed by another 20 minute hike before we even reached the cave, a total climb of 641m.  Small fry for my new Norwegian friends but almost certain death for me.  Especially as the sun had now kicked in full blast and was shining directly on the mountainside.  In any case, we survived it.  That is, the youngest dolly and I survived it.  Carlo and the eldest arrived fresh as a daisy.

We were met by a strapping young Austrian guide who fortunately spoke fluent English.  He gave the tour in both languages, starting with German, so we didn't know why there were a few groans until he repeated it and cheerfully told us the tour consisted of 1,400 steps.  700 up and 700 down.  What. The. Actual. Wienerschnitzel?!  I was still recovering from the hiking!  But we'll stop every 5 minutes or so, he assured us.  It's amazing how many steps can fit into 5 minutes...  The first 300, for a start!

I don't know why I'd imagined the cave as a relatively flat, slightly rocky affair.  I could not have been more wrong.  The creaky wooden steps led onward and upward into the gloom.  To enhance the rustic feel of the tour (I assume, because why else?) our way was only lit by the oil lamps our guide had distributed amongst us.  And to be fair, the muted light did serve to add to the ambience of the cave.  And the cave was, it has to be said, absolutely spectacular!  I don't think words could really do it justice and unfortunately photographs weren't allowed (I'll look for some on Google).  The formations of the ice were eerie and beautiful and the sheer thickness of it in some places was quite incredible.

It really was a fantastic experience - and thank God after the effort it took to get there...!  When our guide said we had reached the furthest point, about a kilometre (and an hour) in, I could have cried.  The way back was a lot quicker, unsurprisingly, and took us down a steep tunnel through the ice.  The girls and I were very happy to see and feel the sun again afterwards and navigated the way back down the mountain on very shaky legs.

Our plan had been to carry on from the Eisriesenwelt to the Eagle's Nest, just over the border in Germany.  This was Hitler's former mountain top hideout that had now been made, perhaps bizarrely, into a restaurant and view point.  I informed the Hub that if there was any hiking involved then there was no chance  But it was supposedly served by a coach ride and a brass elevator so, with the promise of dinner, I agreed.  

Unfortunately, as the Mount Everest of ice caves had taken longer than we expected, we arrived too late for the last coach to the Eagle's Nest.  We, therefore, made do with wandering (very slowly) through the nearby streets to the picturesque lake, Königsee.  Hub selected the best-rated restaurant according to Google, which, of course, happened to be the one furthest away.  But it was also in a quiet corner of the lake away from all the tourist paraphernalia so we endured another short walk for our dinner.  We found a table right by the water's edge and feasted on well deserved pasta, schnitzel, strudel and pancakes.  We would definitely be sleeping well!

But, because we are clearly gluttons for punishment, not before another quick detour to Salzburg to take a sneak peek at the Von Trapp house.  Yes, we should have done this on a previous occasion but that would be too easy for the Family Von Hellings...  My eldest was desperate to see it and so we went for a brief glimpse of what is now a guest house with CCTV pointed at the front gate.  But it was enough to satisfy the girls and so, after a couple of hasty snaps, we were on our way back for a good sleep...oh no, wait.  We were camping!  Not such a good sleep then...