Eis

From Vienna, we moved onto Austrian cities renowned for their scenic beauty – Salzburg and Innsbruck.

Salzburg – the city of Mozart, where cigarette-lighter to chocolate-box – every bit of merchandize has him staring at you, in his white-powdered-wig; Salzburg – the city of the Von Trapp family with Sound of Music tours galore; its claim to fame are many.

The one thing I remember vividly and that deserves mention here is the expedition to the ‘Ice Caves’. These caves are sub-zero voids inside the Tennengebirge Mountains, at a height of around 1600 meters and have ice formations in various interesting shapes – all natural. We took a train ride to this place called Werfen and set-out in search of the bus – the first leg of the journey to the caves. Werfen was one of the prettiest places I saw in Europe. Austrian Alps in all their magnificent glory, the brightly shining sun illuminating the vast expanse of mountain, valley and brook.

After the bus deposited us, we bravely decided to foot the next five-hundred-meters-almost-vertical climb (in lieu of the cable car, may I add).

That climb made me realize how unfit I really was. The air around was pure mountain – the freshest possible; it got rarer as we climbed and my panting got more pronounced in direct proportion. But I am glad to put on record that I was not the laggard in my group – Rajgaria trailed behind me, putting blame to a fear of heights. On the other hand, Somdev was like a mountain goat, he climbed, jumped, and twisted his way around bramble and fern with the nimble-footedness of one. Bobby and Chandan, in that order, occupied the ranks between us.

I went along doggedly, not-all-that-slowly but very surely. After that excruciating climb got done with, we came to a sort of rest area populated with a restaurant and a souvenir shop. Not hanging around, we went ahead to avail of the next mode of transport – the cable car to take us over the unclimbable portion (although I later heard that some of the monkeys in our B-stable did attempt that climb too). Even after that cable car regurgitated us, we had some significant meters of vertical ascension remaining, to be done on foot. By this time, I was fed-up of the whole thing and rueing my decision to come at all. Somehow I made it to the entrance of the caves and we all sat there, gasping, a couple of hours after we had started – enjoying the rest.

But, not for long.

A 75-minute-tour inside the caves was next on the agenda. While we were waiting for it to start, a party of school children, no doubt on one of their field-trips came sauntering by. And I mean that. Around 7 to 8 winters old, it seemed as if no exertion was too much for them. Born in the mountains, with fresh air, wholesome food and hardy exercise, they would have made Sir Edmund proud. Be that as it may, the jaw actually dropped when post-fifty oldies started dotting the landscape! And they did not seem to be having half the trouble I was. Kudos. Going by this, I shudder to think of what I will be at 60. Probably on the catheter.

The tour started and I couldn’t wait for it to get over. It involved moving around in sub-zero temperatures and zero luminosity with only a few lanterns for ocular assistance, on wooden boards, through serpentine passageways, with railings on either side to prevent falling on the slippery ice. The going was slow, as one had to be careful, with so many people, especially kids ahead and behind of you. The domino-effect seemed probable. At one point, the whole file of us climbed a set of stairs that was at an angle of 45 degrees to horizontal propriety, as was informed to us by the guide.

This guide character was one helluva marvelous thing. Skating along on the ice, he was another authentic made-in-Austria product.

So anyway, that disaster of a tour finally came to an end. We felt liberated. The remaining of Salzburg was also quite interesting. We met avid travelers from the other IIMs and I explored the enchanting city of Salzburg on my own as the lazy-bums – R, S, B and C got late – they were probably doing their faces and tying each other’s corsets up. Bah!

It was a good time of the year. Mid October – the air was chilly, but the sun was out in full force. If you ask me, the Alps probably never looked better.