Spring into Europe

Having survived winter in Cairo with temperatures of a modest fifteen degrees and not wanting to endure more dust storms and strong winds which signal Spring in Egypt we set off for a couple of weeks in the greener (actually whiter) pastures of Europe.

Prague airport late in the evening is like a ghost town. The pre-booked taxi driver met us as planned which was a relief as there were no other taxis in sight. And no wonder; who would be out in a snow storm with temperatures around minus twelve?

Atop the hilly west bank sits Prague Castle looking like a monumental fortress with its collection of buildings and courtyards; the Good King Wenceslas knew how to look after himself. Floodlit, the palace beckoned us from the windows of our room in the 300-year-old Hotel U Pava; a charming hotel on a gas lit street downstream from the 700 year old gothic style Charles Bridge. Recent renovations accommodate the needs of modern travellers however the antique furnishings and lead light windows were preserved, as were the cellar and restaurant.

Sunlight replaced floodlights and we ventured out to explore the wonders of the old city dressed in all our winter survival gear to cope with the clear blue skies, minus five degrees and the chill factor associated with the lazy breeze direct from the Arctic; and this is spring! Our footsteps echoed in the narrow cobblestone streets, their melody leading the way to the magnificent 300 year old Estates Theatre, which was one of Mozart’s favourites and featured in the film Amadeus. Then to the Town Square which dates back to the tenth century with a skyline perspective that mirrors the city of a hundred spires. The medieval market place in the central square has been replaced by international tourists with digital cameras and cell phones who watch the world go by from the shade of umbrellas in sidewalk cafes. Sitting in a sun filled café in minus two degrees we succumbed to a glass of gluhwein and a dish of traditional goulash and dumplings to ward off the cold. The “Astronomical Clock” in the square has been advising wanderers and residents not only the time but also sunrise, sunset and phases of the moon for six centuries with a quaint routine.

Buildings and bridges in the old city offer a panorama of architectural choices, Romanesque, Gothic, Barque, Neo Classical and Art Nouveau styles, the finishes are as wonderful as the colours are varied. The concession to the twenty first century is the technology of the display lighting in ground floor shops and restaurants. Elsewhere door frames and cobblestones chronicle the history of this city which has seen several different rules since the Kings of Bohemia. Walking upstream past several bridges and locks the “dancing houses” are a modern statement to shock the old school of architects. Unlike the tower in Pisa, one of two five-story buildings was deliberately constructed on a lean and joined at the upper floors to give the impression of a couple dancing. Some imagination is required; otherwise it is probably just outrageous and rather irreverent amongst its classic neighbours.

En route to the Charles Bridge, Prague’s most recognised icon, we succumbed to the temptation of a wine tasting at a small cellar. What a surprise; three whites and three reds from the best of the local vignerons. Then on to the bridge which is the oldest and most decorated of seven joining the old city to the palace side of the river. Lined with 36 Baroque Saints, Charles Bridge is now dedicated to pedestrians. The noonday sun found it full of artists and buskers as well as hundreds of tourists, and it was only early spring. A treat was the little round man with his red jumper, felt hat and wide grin winding a mobile hurdy-gurdy with great gusto, complete with toy monkey on the side of the organ grinder. The combination of organ, accordion, chimes and drum played all the classical tunes which some loved and stayed to listen. Others less cultured than ourselves thought it “tragic” and moved on. The little round man with the smiling face was not deterred, pausing only to sell his CDs!!

Seeking a bird’s eye view of the city we took the funicular railroad and were rewarded with springtide peeks of Prague, lightly dusted in snow white. The driver warded off the cold with a sleeveless jumper over his short sleeve shirt; tourists wore parkas and gloves while the residents of the hill had full length fur coats. Seasoned by the moderate winter of Cairo, the teeth chattering cold finally chased us back to our hotel. A warm glowing fire was a welcome comfort.

The cellar with its low cosy ceiling brush stroked with chubby cherubs in flirtatious whimsical poses set the mood for a wonderful dining experience with regional dishes of duck and pork. The Czech red wine recommended by the waiter was superb. We favour provincial delicacies and wine, immersing ourselves in the local culture.

Overnight chill changed the mood on the Charles Bridge; the statues under a dusting of snow had become magical. Gone were the buskers and tourists; we shared the moment with the swans who journey on the Vltava River. The frosted castle on high silhouetted the dreamlike picture.

We boarded our express train, bidding farewell to Prague; next stop Vienna. Snow across Czechoslovakia and Austria with a hint of spring growth made for a picturesque journey.

Our time in Vienna was a mixture of culture and seeking necessities that cannot be sourced in Cairo. The hotel, like the one in Prague was chosen from our book “One thousand things to do before you die” and we were not disappointed with the “King of Hungary” or the staff. In the shadow of the gothic St Stephens Cathedral, the hotel is relatively new being built in 1815. After a lengthy discussion with Michel at reception we were pointed in the direction of the Albertina for the exhibition of Egon Schiele, an arrogant young artist from the turn of the century who, like the recent architect in Prague, was out to shock the world with his paintings of nude ladies.

Battling on through the snow and ice on the pavements, we were awed with the grandeur of the 100 year old Kunsthistorisches fine art museum and its extraordinary collections by Dutch, French and Italian artists of the 16th century. The treasures are housed in palatial galleries of exquisite red coral veined marble, if only the walls could tell the tales of old. To enhance the treasures, a story is told of a theatre designer who was employed to bring the exhibitions into the 20th century. He took his work so seriously he slept in the museum’s various rooms to watch how the light played among the pieces. The result is a visual masterpiece. The antiquities of Greece and Rome are as glorious as their history; Egyptian antiquities and pyramid models are so lifelike you can almost hear the palace gossip and the chants of the workers. Light has given the treasures life. Talking of the Pharaohs, walking back to St Stephen’s Platz we passed an Egypt Air office and a shop selling “Sheesha pipes”, which reminded us Egypt never seems to be far away.

Vienna has many attractions; we enjoyed a training session of the Lipizzaner horses of the Spanish Riding School in a section of the Palace. Founded in 1572 the school preserves classic dressage in its purest form with magnificent white horses performing succinct movements to time honoured traditions. The end of our day was dinner at the “White Chimneysweep” it was superb. One of many great restaurants in Vienna, it’s a charming story of a chimney sweep who had an affair with the baker’s wife and would return to duty covered in a dusting of flour. We didn’t see any dusty footprints, maybe too early in the evening!

Another of Vienna’s attractions is the great food. For fun and pleasure we conducted a survey of Sascher Torte, the famous chocolate cake – the recipe is a well guarded secret but does include choc sponge, strawberry jam and dark choc icing. Starting at the coffee shop of the Hotel Sascher, we gave their cake good marks. Moving on past the Mozart Statue, more galleries and shoe shops in the high street we sampled round two of Sascher Torte at Demel, the “other” famous cake shop. After careful study and consideration we awarded first prize to the Hotel Sascher.

Demel contributes to Vienna’s reputation as the pastry capital of Europe, serving more than sixty types of pastries with the glass walled kitchen open to the view of café patrons. Another of their treats was drinking chocolate bars; “melt 100 grams in a cup of hot milk” the recipe said. Later in St Anton, we confirmed it was chocoholic heaven.

Walking back from the not so blue Danube to our hotel we passed the famous Figimuller restaurant which has been serving Wiener Schnitzels for over one hundred years. We made a reservation for after the 6 PM flute recital at the Vienna Music Hall and we were not disappointed with either choice. The “musicverein” has several chambers and the recital was in one of the smaller rooms. The flutist had set music to words and after each bracket the speaker gave a review. Too bad they were in German!!! The plate covering schnitzels and local white wine were easier to decipher!!

Next day under a spring blue sky we set off to the train station for the journey across Austria to St Anton. During this journey our quiet, mild mannered “Darby and Joan” metamorphosed into “Tarzan and Jane”, ready to conquer the ski slopes of the Arlberg.

The panorama car lived up to its name, offering huge viewing windows, drawing the mountains into the wagon. After Innsbruck, the plains of Mozart’s Salzburg were replaced by the mountains of the Alps. St Anton was magnificent. Soon after arrival we were into our apartment at 1,300 meters across the road from the bottom station of Galzig Bahn, the main cable car to the top of the resort. The view over the home run to Galzig Peak and across to the 2,900 high point of Valluga was breathtaking. Our welcome was the gentle flutter of large white snowflakes, Tarzan had a big smile and I thought a chest beat and a blood curdling yippie was possible. Kirsten (Peter’s daughter) arrived next morning and we outfitted with skis and boots, except Jan who after looking at the steep slopes and distinct lack of pink runs declined both skis and snowshoes, choosing instead a non skier cable car pass to record the super-skiers in their panoramic playground. Watch out for them at www.pcandjt.com

The sunrise showed the valley in bright clear light that shone and sparkled in the snow like thousands of diamonds against an azure endless space void of clouds and breeze. Spring skiing that you dream about. RA was right!! “If you live right, everything goes right!!” Our super skiers set off on the steepest blue run to get their ski feet in order. Jan came on the cable car and reported “they did OK”. We skied all day and exhausted ourselves, so we thought; until the next day, when we skied at Lech.

Unlike St Anton, Lech is a wide valley with an icy stream dividing the hotels and bars from the ski lifts. Horse draw sleighs complete the picture perfect scene. After endless miles of exhilarating runs all over the hills and mountains we got home to our apartment and could not move!!! Early to bed and slow to rise to yet another day of clear blue skies and snow measured in meters rather than inches. We soared like an eagles flight in the Valluga cable car to the very top of St Anton’s mountains at 2,900 meters where we enjoyed the most scenic lunch you could imagine from our own eyres vantage point. 360 degrees of massive and steep snow covered mountains in the best of weather and looking down on 4,000 vertical feet of slopes; halfway from Mt Kosciusko to the sea. Nature pure and simple, large and tall, we felt small. Our super skiers reluctantly left their wonderland only when the ski lifts closed at the end of the day. Kirsten departed to join her friend Elizabeth, to begin another adventure; Elizabeth’s wedding at Citadella, near Venice.

St Anton continued to delight us with sapphire skies and still air for the rest of the week, ideal late season skiing. Hundreds of photos and squillions of turns later our week came to an end with an afternoon walk to Verwall, a magnificent pine forest in a valley to the west of St Anton. After the swish, swirl and pace of downhill skiing, walking among frozen waterfalls and trees whose branches were heavy with ice and snow, thick and soft like luxurious duck down, was a change of pace. A gentle perambulation in this pristine environment was a wonderful farewell to a sensational spring holiday. Peter is already planning next year’s adventure; Grindelwald in Switzerland is the frontrunner at the moment.

Peter had skied at St Anton twenty years ago. He concluded the new technology skis are not as fast as the old style!!

The train through the Arlberg Pass and Lichetenstein to Zurich and on through the Alps to Como was superb. Through mountains and alpine vistas, past meadows, lakes and villages into Zurich city then on through the tunnels and passes of the mountains to Italy; again the dining car was a hit!! We really enjoy train travel!!

Lake Como’s steep hills draw you to the water, beautiful villas dot the foreshore and are reflected in the aqua, the lake’s traffic is like brush strokes on a moving watercolour. It is magnificent and is one of our favourite places. We agree with Stendahl “the blue green waters of Lake Como and the grandeur of the alps make it the most beautiful place in the world”. This time we stayed at the southern end of the lake and had views from three sets of double windows: alps, lake and waterfront promenade with its restaurants; different hues of a dream tapestry.

Bellagio is a picturesque village at the junction of the two southern arms. Travelling by hydrofoil afforded close ups of grand villas and village life and like most tourists we disembarked at Bellagio to savour the gardens, galleries and cappuccinos of this historical village. On the sides of a hilly peninsula, silk worms have been busy for centuries and the locally produced scarves and ties are world renowned. The tie Bill Clinton wore on the cover of Time was from Bellagio. Not to be outdone, George Bush is regularly photographed with a tie from the same Pierangelo Masciardri’s gallery. Creating his own style of silk art, exploring visual icons to narrate different histories, the gallery is draped with a variety of wonderful scarves, ties and handbags.

Pierangelo mentioned he did a charity silk scarf to mark the second millennium anniversary of the Roman Catholic Church. An image of the first Pope in the centre is surrounded by images of all the Popes to the current Pope Benedict. The background is white with the images bordered in papal red. At first we were shown the paper draft, but after Jan took a few photos and shared Pierangelo’s enthusiasm, we were treated to the real thing, the first silk scarf of the 100 printed. Sold for charity by the church in Como for one million lire each (AUD 100,000) there are still a few left - we have the phone number if you are interested. Jan declined a scarf but we left with a silver grey silk tie and matching pocket handkerchief for my suit.

Steep steps down narrow alleyways invite exploration; quiet charm and old architecture entice the imagination, galleries brimming with treasures smooth as silk. Along the waterfront the mansions and gardens are storehouses of visual extravaganzas. Back to the wharf and onto the ferry for another enjoyable journey on the lake described by Wordsworth as “a treasure which the earth keeps to itself”.

An icon of luxury and style was our next adventure, Cernobbio the village of Villa D’Este is a few kilometres from Como. The gateman invited us to explore this unique hotel. Set in ten acres of formal gardens on the shore in a small cove on the lake this former cardinal’s private pleasure palace has been host to the rich and famous for several centuries. We told the gateman Jan was going to be famous!! We took in the waterfront with its floating swimming pool while relaxing with a cappuccino. The loo was like an art gallery!! The ground floor lounges, bar, reception room and jewellery shop were magnificent in their splendour: chandeliers, Persian and Chinese rugs and exquisite furnishings. To reach the garden we passed a red Ferrari and blue Porsche outside the reception, a far cry from the cardinal’s horse drawn carriage. The gardens were coming alive with the spring waking rhododendrons and azaleas, colour, buds and leaves all sprouting a loud welcome. These sights are why we are so fond of Lake Como.

Our spring in Europe has sprung. Cairo welcomed us with the onset of hot summer days and cool nights; Darby and Joan are back and ski gear stored for next season.