Okay, no hiding it, let’s get it out, I’ll be honest with you – no sunset, no the world hasn’t come to end, well, nearly! The sun did set but not for us, it wasn’t as though it knew we were coming or anything like that, and thought: ‘I’m not coming out tonight’. No it was less complex, or maybe not, I’ll let you work it out and see what you come up with, if you’re still there. But as I got up about 0645 the sun was rising and it took about an hour to finish its display, fascinating because I’ve never before stayed for the whole performance.
We answered emails and some posts and were just having a small break, after all we are on holidays. I got rid of 30 of the sunrise photos, and took photos of the inside of the church for those that ordered them. By the way, I didn’t, but I should have, apologised to the little 40 year old woman for insinuating the church was locked, but it wasn’t, I just didn’t bother to look for other entrances.
It was Sunday of course, and the townsfolk have a large band and about 40 men and 5 women marched and played tunes, I have yet to find out what was going on. Then it was time to go on our pretend sunset walk. I was wrong again. I counted over 100 cars of ‘outsiders’ who had come to town to walk in my little paradise. So as we were late we were with the stragglers and because no-one uses nordic poles properly in Europe except Corrie and me (maybe a little exaggerated), we poled past correctly showing them indirectly how the local paradisians do it.
Often we find there is more than one way to go and signposts can be confusing so our first doubt today had two bike riders reaching for their mobile maps and both were consistent. Through beautiful pastures, and by our Isar river, we locals love to use the river’s name, and into a gorgeous forest; we were wondering why we were on our own. We were told it was an easy walk but soon we were walking on very narrow paths with sheer drops, layers of slippery leaves and I was hugging the grassy wall. I don’t have a picture of the scary part because I was too focussed on the both of us to take one. I soon noticed the red circle sign of dream path territory, but it was only for a short way. Now we could relax and take in the sights around us.
Corrie was looking forward to a coffee but the people of the 100 cars were there either having coffee or on a very long line, they had taken an easier route, so local knowledge doesn’t always work. There were a few chairs scattered around facing the enormous Walchensee Lake (800 metres above sea level) but all taken bar one and a table. But two draft horses also had their eyes on it. So we took a chance and snuck in to our chair. Their eyes were barely open so I thought they had finished lunch. We had a fair go at our food but soon one came over to share. He reached over for last nights schnitzel but I got between. He was pushy so we quickly packed up, no more horsing about. We found a pile of cut logs to finish eating.
Off round our lake now to our sunset, a couple of hours early. More chairs are being placed round the lake – very new and close to where a tree has been cut down so it looks like that’s where the wood came from. We’re close to sunset place and I look out to the west and I see this wonderful ice capped peak belonging to the sunset group. Its name is Zugspitzmassiv and it’s just below 3000 metres high. I’ve seen it before and hoped it was within the sunset group but it’s about 100 metres to the right and therefore it won’t be seen.
So I started thinking and quickly thought of a poem just written where I talk about how thinking hasn’t got us very far. No, the only options were to go or stay. Going would get us home, before dark, though I was keen to try my candle torch out and we would miss sunset. Staying, would see the sunset but without my beloved ‘Z’ mountain. It appeared that ‘Z’ would win out.
The walk home along another leaf laden track was great as we negotiated a couple of steep hills and a couple of over enthusiastic bike riders.
Don’t know where tomorrow but I do have a support group meeting at 10.00 and it’s going to rain.
