Beer and Rocks in Germany -An Old Travel Diary From 1995

October reminds me of Oompah-pah music and beer and so I am tearing a page from my travel journal and taking you back to Germany in the summer of 1995 when we were brave American tourists about to scale a rather large and formidable mountain. Fortunately, they sold beer everywhere!

(Key background music-it will play while you read)

…We shared a giant pretzel and had some beer in gigantic glass steins at the Hofbrau House in Munich, which by the way, has been making beer for almost a thousand years.

 Sitting under a giant tree outside on a lovely garden patio, we enjoyed the warm weather and the happy, relaxed atmosphere before driving on to our next destination which would be Eibsee and Gainau. Our hotel had a view of Germany’s highest mountain, the breathtaking, Zugspitze, which was to be our goal for the following morning. Yikes! The trail we decided on hiking was called Hollentall Klamme or Hell’s Valley and it didn’t take me long to figure out why it had that name. Double yikes!! The steep trail rose along a fast rushing river above rocky steppes and through dark rocky mountain caves. After about two miles of lung depleting, hiking we reached a small al fresco beer bar where I chose the responsible drink of Apfelsaft (non-alcoholic apple cider). Sipping slowly, I wasn't looking forward to more...

That's me of course,
surrounded by what else but rocks!

  treacherous trails, switchbacks, and steps upward next to the huge, powerful and loud river gushing down past us like a runaway train. The rocks around me and the thundering sound of the river drowned out our voices and reminded me how insignificant my words were at the time. This was God's theater and I was in the middle of the action! Humid weather made me uncomfortably hot and even walking under the gorgeous and romantic waterfalls didn’t help. (That's where the Klamme comes from--it translates to clammy and yes, that described us.) Finally, we reached a beautiful, flower strewn meadow with a  miniature church called the St. Joseph’s Chapel where we shared our picnic lunch before heading back down. …Quietly, almost reverently, we descended because I had very few words to describe the incredible, awe-inspiring place that left us both exhausted and longing for a cold beer.


Do you remember a time when you were speechless?