After a quick overnight in Munich, we picked up our rental car and headed for Berchtesgaden, in the corner of Bavaria that pokes into Austria. We went straight to the Jenner cable car and rode it all the way up, to about 5,900 feet.
Lunch was on the terrace café, with the Watzmann straight across from us and the Königssee far below. The views were hard to beat. Then we climbed the last stretch to the summit lookout and started down, 2,200 feet to the middle station. Parts were so steep our knees were feeling it long before the bottom. Every switchback opened up another view of the mountains and the lake, so we didn’t mind stopping. By the time we pulled into the AlpinaRos, our home for three nights, we’d earned a hearty German dinner.
The next morning we crossed into Austria for a day in Hallstatt, with a detour to Gosau for a hike around the lake. The trees along the shore had gone yellow and orange, and cows mooed at us from the pastures as we passed. On the way to a waterfall we came across a funny little stand along the trail, selling beer to thirsty hikers.
Hallstatt is touristy for a good reason. It’s charming and beautiful. We went to the famous viewpoint for the obligatory photos, then bought salt from the mine above town, where people have been digging it out for 7,000 years. The real entertainment was in the town square, where it seemed every other visitor was staging a glamour shoot, chin up, hair tossed, lake in the background.
Our last full day started with the boat across the Königssee to St. Bartholomä, the little church with the red onion domes. Halfway there the captain cut the engine, pulled out a trumpet and played a few notes at the cliffs. A second later the mountains played them back.
From the church we hiked up to the Eiskapelle, a field of snow at the foot of the Watzmann’s east face that never melts, even in summer. We had our picnic there and watched glacial waterfalls spill down the rock.
That afternoon we squeezed in the Almbachklamm gorge. The walkway is a string of 29 numbered bridges, and we made it to number 19, hanging onto a cable drilled into the cliff so we wouldn’t fall off the ledge. The stairs and walkways went on forever. By late afternoon we pretty much had the gorge to ourselves, just us and the sound of rushing water.
