Of Pilgrimages

 Next day's hike took us a couple of miles on foot to the next village, up a tram, and up yet another few thousand feet to a monastery.

Cows reposing near a shrine.  Austrians build these all over up in their mountains.  When I was hiking in this vicinity on another trip, I remember our hiking guide pausing at all manner of these along our mountain path and being very perplexed that my Mormon hiking mates and myself were not the least bit interested in adding piety to our hike.  We smiled politely but stopping to pray publicly was not in our realm of experience.


Maria Waldrast is the highest monastery in Europe.  We met two Catholic priests from Washington DC who have been coming here together for decades.  Supposedly the water here is magically healing.  I wanted to soak my feet in it, but my better judgment overruled that.  I had an ice cream bar instead.

That thin steel rail line snaking down the mountain will be remembered fondly by the kind reader as the mad dash down depicted on video a few weeks ago about which so many have commented.

 Farewell to Fulpmes.  I want to move into your graveyards,

tiptoe through your roof gardens, and bask in your grandeur forever.  Alas, Switzerland calleth...