Days 9-12 Stettin – Oberstdorf
After departing Hinterholz, we drove south to Meersberg, which is on the shore of Lake Constance, the area was absolutely “rammed” with pesky tourists! so we continued on for a few kilometres, finally getting a spot at Stettin, a “Nothing much to write home about” sort of place. So we stayed a night, and then moved swiftly on the next morning.
Our next port of call was Oberstdorf, deep in Southern Bavaria, just a few kilometres from the Austrian border. This was more like it, and vaguely familiar! It turns out I was here in 1982, doing a spot of military skiing, I don’t remember much about that alcohol-fueled fortnight, other than an incident in a Bavarian cellar bar, involving a wall-mounted red plastic lobster, the loss of my Harrington jacket and along with my mate Gags, barely escaping the cellar bar (called the Aquarius”) with our lives, albeit battered andbruised….ahhh happy days! Anyway, I’m now assuming the bar is long gone, along with the local Chief of Police, and my Harrington! So we decided to park up at Camp Rubi and have three nights in this glorious place.
The site is nestled below the Nebelhorn, which is some 2224 metres in height and a mecca for parascending.
Fortunately the ever-efficient Germans have laid on a cable car, so that lazy good for nothing Brits, can get to the top of the mountain without breaking into a sweat…”I’ll have some of that” I cried. So on an overcast early Saturday morning with sandwiches and wet proofs packed, Me, the Other Half and Mutts the dog, made our way to the Nebelhorn Bahnhof. With a steely determination, that makes the British famous the world over….We would get our cable car ticket, we would ride that cable car, and we would get to the summit of Nebelhorn at 2.224metres! (I’m filling up with pride as I pen this).
Eine Problem! The Mutts had to wear a muzzle in the cable car, which the ticket office, with an eye on profit also sold! To say the Mutts was not happy was probably an understatement. Looking a little like Hannibal Lector, he whined, he howled, he pawed at his face…errrm #embarrassing. I suspect Mutts was doing other things when they were handing out British “Stiff upper lips” at Dover on the outward-trip.
So after a stiff talking too, threats of violence, pleading, and bribery we managed to drag him onto the cable car. This routine continued at the next two stops, until we finally made it to the summit, which would have been quite a pleasant ride, if we’d have been lacking a certain dog!
We’d started the journey at the bottom “ala brit” union jack shorts, cut off tee-shirts, flip-flops, you know the routine. The type of stuff you can see on any British mountain on any given weekend of the year. By the time we had reached the top, the summer kit was away and we were fully gore-texed, because unlike the base of the mountain, it was raining sideways at the top.
We then started the walk down, which took a couple of hours. A really enjoyable walk, along quite steep tracks, in the rain, until we dropped below the cloud base and could really enjoy the alpine views. Brilliant. Even the dog enjoyed it.
Oh! Another bucket list item ticked off….Cows with bells!
This afternoon, we’ve been invited to an old army buddy’s house a couple of Km’s outside of the town, for a couple of beers and a bite to eat. Should be be good.
Next? Maybe a bit of the “Romantic Strasse” from Fussen – Augsburg…. basically heading up towards Munich. We move on tomorrow morning, Monday.
That is all.