16th September 2015
The Searchers were playing a gig in town last night – and staying in the Hotel Gruberhof. I saw them in the bar whilst I was writing the journal and having a beer. I don’t know how many of the original (1960s) band were left, but only one of them looked old enough to have been born by the time they had their hits.
Although my room hardly looked cosy on first inspection, it was surprisingly uncomfortable. The beds were mounted on casters, which were so efficient that getting in or out of bed could move you two or three feet on the stone tiled floor. The hot water came on eventually and stayed until it got bored and one of the huge metal shutters on the French doors suddenly banged closed in a sudden squall during the night, scaring the poo out of me. I managed to jam it in place with a chair (a solution, I noticed, employed on two other shutters further up the balcony). A restful night it was not.
I stumbled down for a mediocre breakfast this morning, and then packed the bike, which was in diverse company…
A weird BMW Cruiser thing and…
…a Ducati Monster with a thick layer of dust on it.
I pay my bill, say goodbye to the Gruberhof forever and I’m on the road at the crack of 09:30.
It’s a beautiful sunny day, with a smattering of cloud and a warm wind from the north.
As I pull up to the first junction, I am somewhat surprised to see a UK phone box...
I also notice that the Austrians have a certain style to going green…
A little way down the road is a garage apparently specialising in classic cars (and bikes)…
…and a Porsche 356 convertible bats her eyelashes at me seductively.
It’s warming up and is promising to become a pleasant day as the wind drops to a breeze and the thermometer rises to about 75° F…
I’m heading broadly north, leaving Innsbruck…
…behind and heading up the wide glacial valley that it calls home…
[Obi-Wan] I feel ein disturbance in das Force, Luke…
[/Obi-Wan]
We’re not out of the mountains yet, but the countryside has given way to long rolling hills and lush alpine pastures…
Lots of these small churches are dotted around the roadsides…
…with some much larger examples appearing from time to time…
It’s actually getting fairly warm now, so I open the vents on my jacket for the first time this trip…
Bettie’s route is taking me down the west side of the valley, avoiding the motorway running down the middle. As usual, this is a mixed blessing – I spend a lot of time in industrial estates, but also a lot in pretty villages with a selection of odd names (of which more later)…
I spot this old timer rusting away with a load of more recent crashed cars in a garages yard…
…I somehow think the chances of a restoration are slim – any guesses for make/model/year?
Live long and prösper…
…and the next village…
Nearly all the cloud has cleared now and the temperature has risen to above 80°F…
I’m glad to say this is not something I encountered today…
Local modern art.
Rubbish, isn’t it?
I see loads of people with walking poles – not sticks, but poles like ski-poles. This old chap was fair whizzing uphill with his cross-country ski boots…
Onward!
It’s now very warm, and I’m not sorry to see the signs for Gilgenberg, where I’ve booked a room today. I arrive to find the door locked and a sign in Austrian in the window. I am just about to go and find a café, when a middle- aged lady turns up and lets me in. In the bar is a card school with four young guys drinking and smoking (I noticed people smoking indoors last night – is this a law that Austria have decided not to adopt?). The middle-aged lady speaks no English, but the barman (one of the card players) does. He – at length and reluctantly – puts down his cards, shows me to the garage and my room. I ask about the restaurant and he tells me it’s closed this evening, but there are places within 15 minutes ride. Great – one of the reasons I choose a hotel with a restaurant is so that – after getting out of my sweaty riding kit and showering – I don’t have to ride to go and eat.
Hey-ho.
I have a beer and am given the Wi-Fi code – Wi-Fi only works on the first floor (where my room is). Finishing my beer I go upstairs, unpack and connect to the Wi-Fi. It doesn’t connect to the internet and clearly needs a reset. No problem – I go back downstairs to find everywhere locked up and no-one about. I’m on my own in the hotel…
I have a long shower and then fall asleep reading a book.
Waking at about 17:00, I decide to go out in search of fuel and something to eat…
I put a search into Bettie and set off. It’s a beautiful evening, with the heat of the day absent and the low sun casting shadows into sharp relief…
Hang on a minute – what did that sign say?
Sure enough – Austria provides the comedy village name to top them all…
It keeps me laughing all the way to the filling station…
…which has a two-stroke oil dispenser – when did you last see one of those in the UK? It also sells ‘Racing Diesel’…
I fill the Adv up with 95 Octane, grab a sandwich from the fridge and ride back to the hotel.
Where to tomorrow?
The Searchers were playing a gig in town last night – and staying in the Hotel Gruberhof. I saw them in the bar whilst I was writing the journal and having a beer. I don’t know how many of the original (1960s) band were left, but only one of them looked old enough to have been born by the time they had their hits.
Although my room hardly looked cosy on first inspection, it was surprisingly uncomfortable. The beds were mounted on casters, which were so efficient that getting in or out of bed could move you two or three feet on the stone tiled floor. The hot water came on eventually and stayed until it got bored and one of the huge metal shutters on the French doors suddenly banged closed in a sudden squall during the night, scaring the poo out of me. I managed to jam it in place with a chair (a solution, I noticed, employed on two other shutters further up the balcony). A restful night it was not.
I stumbled down for a mediocre breakfast this morning, and then packed the bike, which was in diverse company…
A weird BMW Cruiser thing and…
…a Ducati Monster with a thick layer of dust on it.
I pay my bill, say goodbye to the Gruberhof forever and I’m on the road at the crack of 09:30.
It’s a beautiful sunny day, with a smattering of cloud and a warm wind from the north.
As I pull up to the first junction, I am somewhat surprised to see a UK phone box...
I also notice that the Austrians have a certain style to going green…
A little way down the road is a garage apparently specialising in classic cars (and bikes)…
…and a Porsche 356 convertible bats her eyelashes at me seductively.
It’s warming up and is promising to become a pleasant day as the wind drops to a breeze and the thermometer rises to about 75° F…
I’m heading broadly north, leaving Innsbruck…
…behind and heading up the wide glacial valley that it calls home…
[Obi-Wan] I feel ein disturbance in das Force, Luke…
[/Obi-Wan]
We’re not out of the mountains yet, but the countryside has given way to long rolling hills and lush alpine pastures…
Lots of these small churches are dotted around the roadsides…
…with some much larger examples appearing from time to time…
It’s actually getting fairly warm now, so I open the vents on my jacket for the first time this trip…
Bettie’s route is taking me down the west side of the valley, avoiding the motorway running down the middle. As usual, this is a mixed blessing – I spend a lot of time in industrial estates, but also a lot in pretty villages with a selection of odd names (of which more later)…
I spot this old timer rusting away with a load of more recent crashed cars in a garages yard…
…I somehow think the chances of a restoration are slim – any guesses for make/model/year?
Live long and prösper…
…and the next village…
Nearly all the cloud has cleared now and the temperature has risen to above 80°F…
I’m glad to say this is not something I encountered today…
Local modern art.
Rubbish, isn’t it?
I see loads of people with walking poles – not sticks, but poles like ski-poles. This old chap was fair whizzing uphill with his cross-country ski boots…
Onward!
It’s now very warm, and I’m not sorry to see the signs for Gilgenberg, where I’ve booked a room today. I arrive to find the door locked and a sign in Austrian in the window. I am just about to go and find a café, when a middle- aged lady turns up and lets me in. In the bar is a card school with four young guys drinking and smoking (I noticed people smoking indoors last night – is this a law that Austria have decided not to adopt?). The middle-aged lady speaks no English, but the barman (one of the card players) does. He – at length and reluctantly – puts down his cards, shows me to the garage and my room. I ask about the restaurant and he tells me it’s closed this evening, but there are places within 15 minutes ride. Great – one of the reasons I choose a hotel with a restaurant is so that – after getting out of my sweaty riding kit and showering – I don’t have to ride to go and eat.
Hey-ho.
I have a beer and am given the Wi-Fi code – Wi-Fi only works on the first floor (where my room is). Finishing my beer I go upstairs, unpack and connect to the Wi-Fi. It doesn’t connect to the internet and clearly needs a reset. No problem – I go back downstairs to find everywhere locked up and no-one about. I’m on my own in the hotel…
I have a long shower and then fall asleep reading a book.
Waking at about 17:00, I decide to go out in search of fuel and something to eat…
I put a search into Bettie and set off. It’s a beautiful evening, with the heat of the day absent and the low sun casting shadows into sharp relief…
Hang on a minute – what did that sign say?
Sure enough – Austria provides the comedy village name to top them all…
It keeps me laughing all the way to the filling station…
…which has a two-stroke oil dispenser – when did you last see one of those in the UK? It also sells ‘Racing Diesel’…
I fill the Adv up with 95 Octane, grab a sandwich from the fridge and ride back to the hotel.
Where to tomorrow?
