Heart in Hallstatt
Nestled within sky-piercing mountains and pristine lakes, Hallstatt is a small, quaint town in Austria that offers a magical experience with breathtaking natural beauty for those seeking a relaxing vacation
When the breeze, one of her prime movers, takes a nap, she turns to her mirror. This is the only time she can see herself on the still lake. A picture-perfect moment!
If you ask me to get lost for a few days, it would be in her.
Nestled in the sky-piercing mountains is a place that happily trades her tranquillity for all your worldly concerns. Lost in her charm, you can feel relieved and free from the grinding reality of everyday life.
Mountains hold hands around her to shroud her offerings from all else, as if to preserve her enigma. The idea is simple: you have to take the time to step into her bounds and enjoy her to the fullest.
Among her more illustrious peers nearby such as Munich, Salzburg, and Vienna, she sits quietly, waiting to be discovered by the most zealous and passionate of lovers.
In this day and age, where day-trips reign supreme, just one for a few hours is a disservice to her. She is not to be browsed, but to be felt deeply, ready to be carried away in someone's heart.
She is Hallstatt, Austria.
About an hour south-east from Salzburg, she can be reached by train, by bus or by a combination of both.
After a one-night stay in Salzburg, we took the bus on a rain-drenched day to a small Alpine town called Bad Ischl. Heavy rains the night before had initially stoked fears of missing out, but my fears subsided when the rain started petering out as we boarded the bus to Bad Ischl.
We got off the bus there and hopped on the train to Vienna. Hallstatt was just a few stations away. The train trundled past the small mountain lakes and zigzagged through the towering mountains.
Around a magical bend, in the distance, the idyllic Hallstatt opened up across a picturesque lake as a collection of pastel-coloured specks against the lush, green backdrop of the mountains.
This was a small station. A short and regular ferry boat service ran between this station and Hallstatt. On the boat, the sound of silence greeted us, intermittently punctured by the gentle waves splashing against the boat.
The specks slowly turned into colourful Alpine houses, and the white swans ushered us to an otherworldly place, as we approached the dock.
I chose a pricey room with a balcony in a quaint, waterfront boutique hotel called Seehotel Grüner Baum for my stay there.
Our hotel entrance opened onto a lovely courtyard lined with cafés and pastel-coloured buildings, along with a balcony in the back overlooking the lake. This was my stage to witness the lovely embrace of white clouds and the mountains, the playful roaming of the swans, and the occasional movement of excursion boats.
I could see the railway lines and the small station across the lake. A stream of people kept coming in and leaving by boats. The clouds felt like curtains that would disappear at times at different locations, as if to unveil a landscape steeped in different tones and shades of colours, inspired by the sun's rays.
I wanted to have an immersive and relaxing experience and take a piece of Hallstatt away with me. The hotel I chose was located in a relatively old quiet corner of the town, off limits to the tour buses and the pandemonium they bring.
A narrow path sandwiched between the lake and the mountains started from the central courtyard and led to the bus stops and other attractions for day-trippers, past small souvenir shops and restaurants. Down this path, just a few minutes away, was the ticket counter for the salt mine.
A funicular whisked us high up, to the top of the mountains. The view from the funicular was spectacular. As we ascended, the tiny town below looked like an expensive necklace worn by the beautiful lake surrounding it.
I could now see all the tall peaks crested like waves that had nurtured her all this time. White clouds rested on their laps in a lazy sprawl, reluctant to drift away from their cosy home. When they do move into the sky, they blindfold the peaks in a hide and seek game. They were the actors, and the tolling church bells by my hotel balcony were the conductors.
Off the funicular, we started walking higher up the slopes toward the entrance of the mine. On the way, we enjoyed the spectacular skywalk, jutting out as a free-floating triangular structure.
My wife wasted no time in recreating the titanic pose. She felt like a bird ready to fly into the sky to merge with what she saw. I had a hard time convincing her that she did not have the wings to match her enthusiasm. Hallstatt could instantly snatch you away from reality into fantasy where you lose yourself and be one with her.
The salt mine, entrenched deep into the mountains, is a major tourist draw here, and the visit was truly an unforgettable experience. In fact, Hallstatt was originally known for her salt mine, her prosperity largely attributed to it.
I looked like a clown in the loose white salt suit that we were required to don to get inside.
Inside the mine were some wooden miners' slides speedily leading visitors to lower levels. Everyone hurtled down those for a thrilling ride. The caves were illuminated with salt candles at some points, giving off a romantic vibe.
I could now see all the tall peaks crested like waves that had nurtured her all this time. White clouds rested on their laps in a lazy sprawl, reluctant to drift away from their cosy home. When they do move into the sky, they blindfold the peaks in a hide and seek game.
Deep underground, we were shown videos of how it had all formed. We saw bodies of water saturated with salt. I could dive into it blindfolded and not drown. One of the lasting takeaways from the salt mine visit was a friendship I struck with a Serbian couple.
Yet, this excitement of touring the mine never eclipsed my love for her real charm, which I thought lay with her actors, and her conductors.
After the salt mine, I rushed back to enjoy the serene walk by the lake. The homes, shops and the restaurants on each side were overflowing with beautiful floral arrangements.
The charming narrow street took me to a cream roll shop. In a conversation with Claudia, a local, I got to know how vibrant her little shop, Taglish Frisch Gebacken, was. Cream rolls, known as Schaumrollens around here, were in great demand.
After the small talk, Claudia happily posed for a picture.
I then continued past the courtyard into the narrow car-free alleys leading up the mountains. The lovely local houses with small balconies appeared on either side, some offering panoramic views of the lake.
There were also a few eateries run by the residents here.
I wanted to get lost in Hallstatt. Lost in her, lost for words, and mind slowed, I was finally jolted back to reality by the bark of a ferocious-looking dog, quickly sending me on my way back.
Lunch at a local restaurant by the lake was met with a light drizzle. Clouds now covered the blue sky and the peaks. Gentle drumming of raindrops made up a foggy orchestra — a perfect backdrop for a couple of romantic swans drifting slowly to the steady music of falling rain in an unhurried relaxation.
Back in my balcony, in the evening, when everyone had retired, I enjoyed the show I had long waited for. The swans came out like ballet dancers illuminating the inky blackness of the lake with only a few specs of distant lights serving as spotlights for the show.
I could barely make out the contours of the dark tall mountains. I stood there in awe. It was as if nature had put on a show just for me. I spent hours on that balcony, admiring her.
In this heavenly setting, I was perhaps the only spectator admiring them but my choice felt fully justified. Locals and tourists retire early here because restaurants and shops close early, and there are no bars for revellers anywhere..
Next morning, in the hotel restaurant downstairs, overlooking the lake, I had breakfast with nature. Croissants, pastries and a cup of coffee with the swans? Priceless!
People come here for well-known attractions. Some storm for a few hours and leave for another destination in a hurry. I came, not for these traditional tourist attractions, but to take a piece of her soul away with me, to pause and listen to her whispers, for I don't know if I will ever revisit her.
I had no regrets.
Well, just one. When I reached Claudia's shop, she had already sold that last cream roll. Not that I had never had one, but having a cream roll from a tiny shop in a magical place, immersed in a lake and surrounded by the tall Alps, would be an out of this world experience. I knew I would be long gone before the next one would be made.
Hallstatt sits firmly in my soul, and two tiny bottles of sample salt called "Kristall Salz" that I got as souvenirs from the salt mine whisk me away to her memories every day. I left but never checked out