I know that we’re the kid sister to the Old World, but Europe’s kinda like the Colonies in that you can cross several lines of demarcation in a short span of time. Throw in some fall foliage and Old Man on the Mountain style rock formations, and you’ve got the next best thing to being home. Kinda.

 We last left off getting misdirected on a morning run around Strasbourg. Fortunately for us, our hotel was brightly painted and centrally located, so once we got back to familiar surroundings it was easy to get by the killer rabbit and hit the road for Germany.

Hello autobahn. It’s just like every highway- and while yes, there is no speed limit- the best part about driving on this thing is the fact that people drive intelligently. Also, no one’s wandering around the middle of the road and trying to sell you a blender. I wonder where that happens…

Driving over and into mountains, you’ve got a fair bit of visibility issues to contend with. That said, you also get to see some neat looking stuff in a way that makes you continue with the Monty Python allusions.

After about four hours in our mighty Peugeot (“the lion car” as Christina describes it), we arrived at the best kept secret of the Army, the garrison at Garmisch. We’re headed here because we both need to take the military’s language proficiency test (she speaks Arabic, I speak the food-friendly French). Also, I can at long last get a replacement for my military ID that is now being carried by some a-hole Tanzanian miscreant. I assure you that I look nothing like him, so I don’t foresee him gaining access to reduced rate ski tickets at Garmisch.

In order to reach Garmisch, our GPS has us go to Austria first. On the way we pass the Zugspitze, which is an unpronounceable word that means highest peak in southern Germany. So much unassuming beauty around here that I’m impressed that I didn’t drive off the road while looking at stuff.

The morning of our test we have to report fairly early, and our 6AM wake up time is rewarded by the kind of pink sunrise behind a mountain ridge that makes you certain that God vacations up here while the skiers are away. I snap some photos, but am then drawn back into our hotel for a caffeinated breakfast.

It’s like, religious greeting card pretty outside our hotel room.

I love how when traveling, all of your self-imposed rituals and eating habits kind of go out the window. Even though I’ve spent the majority of this year on the road, travel always makes me feel like I’m in a parallel universe where my food choices can include a breakfast of weird nut bread slathered with Nuss Fit, Nutella, or something else that would never pass for acceptable in my kitchen. Today was no different.

 

Coffee is compulsory and universally straightforward. Or at least I thought it was. I know I’m still sleepy, but these directions still strike me as….I dunno…not directions for how to make coffee? 

Befuddled by the English language coffee instructions, we luckily manage to do just fine on the comprehension portion of our language tests. French is infinitely easier than Arabic, so I finish my test before Christina. I take the opportunity to sit outside in the base café and take in this ridiculous view.

Alas, we were only in Garmisch for the test, and after Christina finished her portion we were on the road again. Time for more window portraits that document the mountains increasing and decreasing in grandeur. 

We get to Austria after dark, and Christina has been here before. She tells me that it’s a shame we aren’t coming into Salzburg while the sun is still shining- but really, the November sun really only make its daytime rounds between 8am and 4pm. I’ll have to take her word on the city. 

We get off the highway and make our way into city center. The beauty of Salzburg so far comes in checking out a language that is seemingly full of superfluous syllables and anagrams.

We’re also in a part of the world that always seems to boast media that is a bit high on the unintentional comedy scale.

Pretzels are kind of a big deal in Salzburg, and I guess that pretzel artistry is an acceptable métier. Apart from this pretzel paying homage to the indigenous Austrian lobster, this place even sold pretzel Christograms.

Once our car is parked, we head out into deserted Salzburg to find some dinner. This place has a population of 150,000 people, and almost all of them are in bed by 9pm. We walk around the deserted town and check out the bridge- which is supposed to boast beautiful views by day. Instead, I snap a photo of this depressing yet informative sign about the bridge’s construction.

The following day we are up and head out for another run. Yes, I’m cramming another morning jaunt into this entry. The slanty winter sun is doing its low-lying thing, but at least I’m finally going to check out what this city looks like by day.

And how lucky for us that Salzburg has its own river, the Salzach. We’re only doing four miles this morning so the odds are good that we will not get misdirected. Inch’allah.

There’s that sun I told you about. I have no idea where I packed my running shades. Still, isn’t it beautiful out this morning? There’s not much better than running in 49℉ weather with crunchy leaves underfoot.

You can’t see it, but the goal was to frame our turnaround point with a nice view of the city’s fortress. Didn’t really work, but as you can see from our smiles we know exactly where we are. Just in case I had a map stashed away for consultation.

Austrian mini golf! This ain’t Dick and Ellie’s….

I’ve gotta throw out a public Thank You to my friend Christina. She puts up with my photo journalistic running style that involves me skidding to a stop to take random photos along our route. Here I had the genius plan to stop in the middle of a busy bike path so I could capture this view. I am sure that my stop and start habit is not positively impacting the efficiency of my workout.

So that’s it for now. We’ve got a day to shed our synthetic fibers and really check out this city to see what it has to offer. That should mean better photographs, and if I’m feeling extra studious, I’ll see what Wikipedia says about Salzburg and then tell you about what I read.

The destination is the journey, n’est-ce pas?