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On a roll in Tyrol

By Malcolm Rogers

Had the Swiss designed the Alps themselves, they say, they probably wouldn’t have come up with anything quite so big. The sober citizens of Switzerland, being a somewhat conservative people, probably would have preferred something a bit more along the lines of the Leitrim Hills. Austrians, on the other hand, are a much more exuberant people, and undoubtedly revel in being surrounded by such rocky behemoths.

In order to test the validity of all this, I was heading to the Alps for the first time in 25 years. My destination was the four star Alpenresort Schwarz Hotel on the Mieminger Plateau above Telfs, some 20 miles west of Innsbruck. The hotel is situated in the idyllic village of Mieming, a place which has been trying to mind its own business since the 14th century, while simultaneously trading its health secrets with discerning travellers through the ages.

Surrounded by the jagged, raw peaks of the Lechtaler and Stubaier Alps reaching some 9,000 feet, the plateau is an undulating pastureland, dotted with flower-bedecked villages which wouldn’t disgrace the Chelsea Flower Show.

In this spectacular setting the Schwarz Hotel provides a variety of treatments to ease both body and mind. Swimming pools, saunas, jacuzzis and tennis courts compete for your attention, and just to top things off the likes of a pantai herbal face massage or a blossom bath are also available.

Now, although I was in Austria to sample a “wellness hotel” I decided to forego the herbal massages in the meantime, and opted for a lesson in Nordic walking. After a fairly heavy lunch at the hotel (wild mushroom soup, followed by bratwurst, potato salad and sauerkraut since you ask), I actually felt more like a Nordic nap. But the hills beckoned.

My coach, Wolfgang, taught me the basis of striding along with two walking poles, and soon we were heading up through the pine forests, towards the peaks of Parselerpitze, Mutterkopf and Heiterwand which necklace the area.

I say ‘forest’ — but it’s more like an ascending journey through hundreds of landscaped rock gardens — little rockeries which would cost you upwards of five thousand euros to get them blended into your garden back home in Ireland. The myrtle, juniper, and rowan alone would set you back a packet, and that’s before you even consider the firs and larches tastefully arranged round waterfalls, alongside babbling brooks and spilling into deep glades. These routes were made for walking. And there’s a walk for all abilities — a hill for every ill, in fact. On the lower slopes wide pastureland alternates with copses of Scots pine ideal for a gentle Sunday afternoon stroll; higher up snow-crowned peaks, ancient moraines and glacial lakes are waiting to be explored.

When out hiking,

En route you’ll meet a few other ramblers (the greeting “Gross Gott” seems to be the equivalent of “How’s it goin’ head”), and you’ll also hear songbirds, see deer slinking away into the forest — and if you’re really lucky, on the edge of the tree-line, you might just spot a chamois. These are prized as a culinary speciality — the meat is said to be the most tender available in the area. And I suppose you’ve ready made cloth to do the washing up with later.

If you want to explore the Alpine villages nearby, such as postcard-grade Wilder Mieming, then you can join the biking hordes.

The Tyrol’s cycle routes will take you through the forests, past Alpine farmers’ huts (known as ‘almen’) and through pastureland where horses, sheep, goats and cattle graze. In all, there are some 10,000 kilometres of cycle routes through the Tyrol, and some 170 odd Alpine huts where you can stop off, soothe the muscles and quench the thirst.

Speaking of huts, the Schwarz Hotel has its very own, about an hour’s walk up from the hotel, which you can rent out for the evening. It’s also a stop on the hotel’s conducted tours through the mountains.

At one such event, a huge meal of baronial proportions was cooked up for our party, with local Austrian wine and schnapps liberally served. Tyrolean accordion music was played, much yodelling was done (mostly by me) and the gemütlichkeit was palpable. There isn’t really an English word for gemütlichkeit — I suppose craic comes closest. Mind you there isn’t an English word for schadenfreude either: the begrudger’s ‘Ne neh ne neh neh’ is the closest, and an emotion I felt towards everyone who wasn’t able to share with me the night of bacchanalian abandon in the hills high above the village that evening.

The morning after the night before I slowly remembered that this was meant to be a ‘wellness break’, something the Tyrol is famous for. The unique interaction of pure water, clear mountain air and exercise revitalises the body, boosts the cardio-vascular system, and generally sends you home feeling (literally) in good shape. Even with a heavy head you know it makes sense.

Heated outdoor pools with Alpine peaks are just the thing to cure away the last cobwebs of the excesses which have gone before. The jucuzzi seems to cleanse your soul as well as your body, and the rigorous Alpine massage with herb-infused poultice is ideal for any tense muscles you may have brought with you. Other distractions include Indian head massages, leg waxings and reflexology.

There used to be some graffiti in Belfast, circa 1975, which read, “Don’t go back — it isn’t there.” Someone had added underneath, the almost surreal rejoinder, “Exception: Austria.” After only my second visit to Austria in a quarter of a century I began to understand what the anonymous scribe was getting at.

Six things not to miss in the Tyrol