Via Sacra – Page 2 – Walking without a donkey

Walking without a donkey - Travels in Austria

Via Sacra – Day 3

Via Sacra pilgrimage from Vienna to Mariazell, Austria. 7th October 2017. Day 3. Starting just outside Kaumberg and walking to Sankt (Saint) Veit an der Golsen, Austria. On foot with my backpack. The first half of Stage 2.

‘All good things come to those who walk. Walking is a recreational pastime that Austrian’s themselves are passionate about, and it’s obvious why.’ From http://www.touchingnature.co.uk/austria-walking-carinthia.htm

My overnight accommodation in a secondary building separate from the main house was cold and dirty. Having arranged for breakfast at 7am, I braved the cold morning across the small yard and attempted to enter via the backdoor. It was locked. When I looked up, all the upstairs curtains were closed and the house silent. I scoured the perimeter and discovered there was no way out. There were some huge rabbits in stacks of tiny cubes, a series of hutches with wire fronts; a great deal of rubbish and minor farm machinery; and the back of the gates which I knew opened onto the road. I had no choice but to return to my dormitory, wrap myself in my sleeping bag and wait. On the third attempt the door opened and I was welcomed into a completely contrasting environment: a warm, clean and bright pub bar with many large wooden tables (I was the only guest) and served with a wondrous breakfast of hot bread rolls, homemade jam, yummy butter, tea, juice and then a boiled egg! Both the lady and gentleman of the house were friendly and kind and with a full tummy I was ready to leave at 8.40am.

IMG_20171007_091732 (640x480) — Church on the hill, Kaumberg.

It was a very short dander to the town and I arrived at almost the same moment that crowds of walkers were collecting, it being a Saturday morning. Not one of them appeared to speak English or understand my German, and all were too taken up with greeting friends to be helpful. However, I did eventually find a helpful woman behind a stall who pointed me in the right direction and, at the top of a steep flight of steps, I came across the town church with beautiful views.

IMG_20171007_095740 (480x640) — Mariazeller Pilgerverein Mauer – Mariazell (the place of pilgrimage I was walking to) Pilgrim Club Wall.

The hiking crowds were ahead of me, lively and chattering with a guide (reluctantly indicating with a shrug of a shoulder where I should be going), and there followed a long steep climb, arduous both physically and mentally. A cold, cold wind invaded my layers and some spitting rain wetted me as we wound our way through farm land. As I skirted a field I watched kids at play while their mum worked at fencing. It was soggy and muddy underfoot but not too bad.

IMG_20171007_095146 (640x480) — Araburg in the distance – it does not look too high does it? But it is a steep ascent.

IMG_20171007_104905 (640x480) — Nearly there.

Araburg Aussichtstrum (observation tower) sits at 799 metres and was built in the 12th century. It continued to expand into the 17th century and during the first Turkish siege of 1529 it was a refuge for the local population. Araburg also played a role in the religious wars between Catholics and Protestants. In 1683 it was destroyed during the second Turkish siege and since then has been ruin. It is a hostel and although the shop and cafe were open, the accommodation was not. I was glad to climb staircase after rickety ladder for the view from the top, but it was vertigo-inducing and impossible with a rucksack so I left it with my poles at the midway point. Half an hour later I had to retrace my steps to find the said poles which I had forgotten in the toilet.

IMG_20171007_102653 (640x480) — Made to look attractive and full of tourists (there was a car park on the opposite side).

IMG_20171007_103341 (640x480) — A misty vista from the top.

As I continued (no need for a cafe stop an hour and a half after breakfast), I passed people who did not look at me or say ‘hello’- a great contrast from previous pilgrimages. In my notes I wrote that it was the ‘hardest climb I have ever done’. Day 3 of a walk can be the hardest and today was challenging in various ways: the path was not clear, the weather gloomy, and the thoughts and memories sad. Sometimes, I reflected, you just have to sit down and weep. As I rested at the foot of the hill there was an extremely loud wailing siren sounding for I knew-not-what reason, but it mirrored my inner state of mind.

If you happen to have a similar sort of a day, and arrive in Ramsau (a pretty stone village further along the Golsen river down at 470 metres) at lunchtime as I did, perhaps you will also need to eat ‘apfel strudel’ to cheer you up. Maybe you will also then slowly recover and dry out with the aid of hot tea. If you are as lucky as me, you could be seated by 3 generations of sweet males sitting at the next table: one in his highchair who will offer you his book to read and the others who speak English, recommend a hiking app to help you find the way, and eventually the world will seem a better place again.

IMG_20171007_143518 (640x480) — One of Austria’s vast network of cycle tracks…

And so I set off feeling somewhat brighter and the sun came out and I meandered along a cycle path with the chain-saw-sound of forestry around me.

IMG_20171007_143614 (640x480) — …with Autumn colours in the afternoon sunshine.

The leaflet I was following states six hours of trekking to Stankt Veit an der Golsen (371 metres) and suggests you go on a further four but that is too far for me in one day, so once again I divided that stage into two.

IMG_20171007_153533 (1) (640x480) — There are many notice boards with signs and maps along the way. You can see Araburg and then the mountains below, a seriously steep climb.

IMG_20171007_162959 (640x480) — The River Golsen.

I arrived in Sankt Veit with very little energy to spare, only to discover that the single place to stay at this time of year was unexpectedly shut due to bereavement. I was in the middle of another adventure – it was nearly dark and I was stuck. Time for some deep breaths.

IMG_20171007_161521 (640x480) — Colourful houses.

I spotted some people outside a cafe and stopped to ask them where I might stay for the night. They were setting up for a special Sunday Austrian market the next morning. Within minutes they were bringing me a free half pint of wine and were all on their mobile phones searching for me.

After a few sips I remembered that I had stopped at a bar the day before and a very willing woman had taken the time to print out a list of bed and breakfasts. I handed this over to my new-found friends and by the time I had enjoyed my drink in the evening sun, which helped to calm my perturbed spirit, I begun to trust that all would indeed be well.

Not long afterwards I was bundled into a car with a young woman and her little brother, driven out of town (up a hill which I honestly do not think I could have climbed, I was that tired), introduced to the inn owner, and received a translation of the breakfast and room details (it was very expensive by my normal standards at 35 euros but I was immensely grateful for a roof over my head). Once again I had ‘landed on my feet’ or, as the Americans say, ‘lucked out’. Oh, the kindness of strangers!

IMG_20171008_084342 (640x480) — My room – considerably more comfortable and smarter than the previous one.

Via Sacra pdf leaflet to download but do not rely on this alone. Make sure you also use other maps and more detailed information about the to avoid getting lost. http://brochures.austria.info/en_US/brochures/show/6006-Via-Sacra-and-the-Vienna-Pilgrimage-Trail

Austrian tourist information including Araburg. https://travel.sygic.com/en/list/top-tourist-attractions-in-lower-austria-region:636

Araburg Castle https://www.spottinghistory.com/view/6718/araburg-castle/

Note: There should be an umlaut over the o in Golsen but after extensive search I cannot work out how to do this on my Windows laptop.

Walking without a donkey - Travels in Austria

Via Sacra – Day 2, Spain

6th October 2017 Day 2 Heiligenkreuz to just outside Kaumberg, Austria. On foot. The second half of Stage 1.

I rose very early for the first service of the day at Heiligenkreuz Monastery where I slept the night. In the chilly church, the Fathers must have been happy to have their white habits with wide sleeves to cosy their hands in. Some had additional black skull-caps; one his pointy hood pulled over his head.

Intoning their Gregorian chants, the 30 men from all around the world enacted their daily rituals, taking it in turns to start off the constituent parts. Sitting then standing, turning towards the altar then backing into their own wooden slot like well practiced horses, turning the pages of the great books propped up in front of them, they alternated being upright and bowing in reverence.

There were 6 of us congregation dotted about the pews, which was very different from the 200 strong crowd of the previous evening when a group of business people were there for a visit.

Breakfast consisted of fresh white bread rolls, yoghurt, cheese, some fresh and some tinned fruit, jams, honey on tap, and a broad array of drinks etc which set me up for the day.

Outside of Mass, the brethren were delightful, laughing, ruddy-faced and balding, making jokes with everyone and giving what looked like entertaining tours in English when required.

Spot the red and white sign on the tree!

It was a windy day when I set out, and I gave thanks for the red and white horizontal striped way-markers because the Via Sacra yellow arrows were few and far between. Lost once more amongst the hills, the green chestnuts’ littered the paths with their shiny brown tokens. The walk was slow with fragrant white roses, gleaming red berries, the sun shining from behind the clouds and lighting up the almost luminous Autumn leaves. Although I felt urgency and some sort of competitive streak I wondered with whom and why for as I had no itinerary or deadlines to meet. In fact I had the luxury of no companion and no compunction to arrive at a particular place by a certain time, so I encouraged myself to stop and take notes, photos, write messages and bask in the sun.

Kestrels (or some such raptor) danced together on the thermals, six of them mimicking those which entranced me in the Basque country last year – piping and whistling they were.

There is a tremendous amount of forestry and logging all through this area.

Maria Reisenmarkt is a very pretty village with a steep climb out via a stony road (medium and tiny white rocks with tree roots, leaves, sometimes concrete, mud or grass). The beechwood was wonderfully quiet with occasional rustling, and there was a corresponding quiet inside me.

With pines interspersed, the sunshine is away up in the tallest canopy rather than on the ground allowing a cold wind to transport its Fall scents. Every now and then a golden leaf wafts down, and sometimes the trees catch most of the wind and I only experience a breeze. Once out in the open there was a tiny village with a huge gasthaus to serve me lunch.

I was glad of the salad bar but could not eat all those chips.

And in the car park was something I had not seen before: cars with their padlocked dog boots open for air.

After my welcome break, the path took me through Mayerling which I knew from Kenneth Macmillan’s ballet of that name. The full-length dance opens in Vienna and closes in the cemetery at Heiligenkreuz so its tragic trajectory mirrors my journey.

The Emperor Franz Joseph in the window at the Mayerling Convent’s museum.

The village of Mayerling has a private convent.

Going out of Mayerling I came across this ‘come and cut your own’ flower farm with fields of gladioli and sunflowers.

Most attractive and typical Austrian domestic architecture.

The last part of the day 2 walk was along a concrete cycle path which was hard on the feet so I did not make it right into Kaumberg. Instead I chanced my luck at Gasthof Renzenhof by the main road which is not one I would recommend at this time of year. The owner obviously did not expect anyone so the beds were as their previous inhabitants had left them and nothing was clean.

However the harvest was almost in, bottled or made into jam, and the breakfast was a delight. She even made me a boiled egg, bless her.

I used my sleeping bag for the first time having carried it around for nearly 2 weeks, and needed two of her duvets on top in the unheated room. Happily 5 euros was knocked off the price!

It always seems fortuitous when I come across a donkey on my travels as I did today!

Via Sacra pdf leaflet to download but do not rely on this alone. Make sure you also use other maps and more detailed information to avoid getting lost.

http://brochures.austria.info/en_US/brochures/show/6006-Via-Sacra-and-the-Vienna-Pilgrimage-Trail

First I thought these little tree houses were for playing, then for bird watching. Sadly it turns out that they are for hunting deer.

Walking without a donkey - Travels in Austria

Via Sacra pilgrimage – Day 1, Austria

5th October 2017 Day 1 Hinterbrühl to Heiligenkreuz, Austria. On foot, 5.5 hours.

The wonderful Sabine drove me from Andlersdorf to Hinterbrühl through Viennese traffic jams and what threatened to be an endless search for the start of my pilgrimage.

After asking several people it turns out that the yellow sign was like a street one at the crossroads, and that confusion over signage was to be the order of the day.

It started well with a downhill hike. A gentle man spotted me minus a boot and administering a plaster. He sympthised with my blister condition, though I was reminded at every turn, by the wayside Christ figures, that any suffering of mine was minor.

I was continually returned to my Spanish caminos, what with barking dogs, and chestnut hulls littering the paths, their earthy smells as they start to decompose were so familiar. There were Harebells and Chinese lanterns in the woods as I began to climb steeply, and golden and tan beech leaves in heaps by the paths.

It was very hot at the top when I eventually emerged from the trees, and I passed a few people along the way who did not know about the path I was searching for. I had followed yellow signs, but it turned out that they were not the ones I needed.

The forest was absolutely beautiful. The next day a monk was glad for me to have taken this route, pointing out that much of the way is otherwise by the main road.

If I had been so inclined I could have dined and drunk to my heart’s content at the two large ‘gasthaus’ in the middle of the forest.

I had departed at 9am and finally arrived in Gaaden at 12 having taken a wrong turn early on, it transpired, and after adding 2.5hrs and 600 metres of very steep climb up and tottering down to a usually flatter path.

Carrying my hefty backpack like that used up most of the day’s energy. I managed a little further after a 20 minute lunch break, but on getting lost again my spirits plumetted.

Once more in a forest without the requisite arrows, I sought advice from a couple of walkers with a big bag. They were mushroom foragers returning to their car with a grand haul, all smiles. Luckily, they offered me a lift to the next village and I gratefully accepted as I was at the end of myself.

As we passed the famous Heiligenkreuz Monastery, I asked to be put down there. I entered for a look and wondered if they might allow pilgrims to stay. Once again I was lucky.

I rested in the sun beside the trickling fountain until 5.30pm, then attended both the 6pm vespers and 7.50pm ‘komplet’ or compline. Traditionally the same three psalms are prayed each night: 4, 90, and 133. They contain clear references to the night, going to rest, dwelling in the shelter of the Most High, protection of the angels etc, and so are perfect for the end of the day.

The Heiligenkreuz monks are renowned for their Gregorian chanting which was why I was happy to attend (I am not a church goer). Dressed in their white robes, half on one side and half on the other side of the wooden choir stalls which were exactly the same colour as the beech leaves in the woods, the sound of the choir was both haunting and eerie.

The entrance to the Stations of the Cross outside the Monastery gates

The final service of the day consists of them first lighting candles, then extinguishing the altar lights. At the end, the bells toll for five minutes, rolling through the valley, and the candles are finally blown out leaving us in near darkness while the Fathers begin their silent period from 20.00 hours until 05.00 the next morning when we reconvened for the first prayers of the day.

I took a brief dusk walk beside the deer to commune with any spirits who might have been at large and find the full moon, but it was not to be seen behind the rain clouds. Instead, I climbed along the path of the Twelve Stations of the Cross and watched the remnants of the sun turn the sky a bruised orange.

Private accommodation in a simple room with two beds with a sink cost 26 euros including evening meal, lunch, breakfast and copious mugs of tea to rehydrate myself before a very early night.

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