Day 26 Villach

We survived our night in the primitive Schultzhutte without any ill effects despite the interesting smell of mouse droppings on my pillow. The view from the window was stunning, a lovely clear night with a distinct view of the Milky Way above and the lights from Villach at the bottom of the valley below.

Schultzhutte

In the morning Rudi, who owns the hutte, talked about the short summer season for the Alm. The cattle are up here for just three months but gain huge amounts of weight from the lush grass and the sun. At the end of September everything is shut down for the winter. Last year, on the 4th October they had 40 centimetres of snow and in the middle of winter the snow here is metres deep.

Staying at the Schultzhutte reminded me of some of my E4 experiences. Some of the best times are found when you least expect it, away from the more popular routes.

We settled our bills (Rudi didn't charge anything for the multiple shots of schnapps) and set off on the last day's walk. It was hard work sustaining your enthusiasm when your attention inevitably starts to focus on home.

It was a lovely day but most of the six hour walk was through trees with a surprising amount of climbing. Much of it stuck rigidly to the border between Italy and Austria marked by those little stone posts we had first seen a week ago.

The final climb up to Kaplin

The final descent down to Thorl Maglern was steep and long, nearly a 1,000 metres of descent. Crashing down we completely lost Paul. We waited for 10 minutes or so, blew our whistles but no Paul. We didn't even have his phone number to give him a ring.

I hadn't met Paul face to face before he joined us on this trip at Montguelfo and it was a bit of a risk for all of us. Fortunately it worked really well, Paul is very easy to get on with, and we all enjoyed each other's company. He is also a very patient bridge teacher and over the evenings in huttes completely revitalised our interest in the game.

John and Paul

It would, however, have been a bit careless to loose him on the last day. After heading down hill for a few hundred metres we saw his familiar yellow hat and were happily able to complete the last bit of the walk into Thorl Maglern together.

Starting the final descent

As a destination Thorl Maglern is frankly a bit of a dump, particularly on a Sunday when nothing is running. We did find somewhere to eat and I consumed what I think will be my last ever Cordon Bleu. Cordon Bleu is an Austrian standard. A slice of white meat (veal, pork or turkey) folded, filled with cheese, ham and occasionally a slice of tomato, covered in breadcrumbs, and deep fried. It's as good as it sounds.

Took us a while to work it out but our best option was to walk to Arnoldstein, three kilometres down the road, and catch the train to Villach. After a route march along a busy road full of weekend cars and bikers we got to the station with five minutes to spare and were at Villach. The departure board, even on a Sunday, presented us with an array of destinations all over Europe and just for a few minutes we thought about the four hour trip to Munich. Instead we opted for a relaxed evening in Villach itself. We said our goodbyes to Paul who decided to press on to Venice, and had a lovely evening in what was supposed to be the town's best hotel.














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