And Outside The Rain Fell...

Jolting up to a wake, with PritS nudging me awake, I felt terribly tired. 5 hours' sleep in 48 hours. WAC nights packed more sympathy.

The concept of dressing up was now alien; we slept in what we would be wearing the next day, which more often than not was what we'd worn the previous day. Out of home and taking a painfully long walk to the Haupbaunhof (Central Train stations in Germany, as they are called) that early morning (for we feared missing our train), we reached Munchen station, panting and grasping for breath. And seconds later, we were deeply asleep in the train, almost all at once. Salzburg arrived before I knew it, and in what seemed a trance, I was already boarding my next train to Werfen, home to the ice caves.

Finally, it took some jaw dropping landscape to jolt me to awake-dom. Our “Regio-train” had suddenly pulled into an astonishing vista of snow capped mountains, with dense fog hugging the bottom of the cliff, pale green trees and river streams appearing pale in the morning sun.

We stopped at Werfen, and a scenic bus drive later, we were already at the foot of the ice caves. The ice caves then were a mere 2 hour climb away, a steep mountainous track climbing some few thousand feet skywards.

The states we were in, we dropped the hike for a 3 minute ropeway ride up. And a 40 minute walk all the way to the final stretch.

Magically however, the sweeping panoramas of the countryside quickly took away all my tiredness, and the first sight of snow (old, but snow nevertheless), got the widest smile on my face for days. Soon at the base of the cable car, now boarding, now climbing the incredibly steep ropeway. Mist all around. Snow all around. A little bit of the sun streaming through. It was over before we knew it. 3 minutes and we had climbed the 90 minute stretch.

And stepping out, we literally had our jaws drop. The panorama was incredibly, incredibly beautiful. Snow crusted mountains, clouds far below, tucking away at the mighty Tennengebridge Mountains, slippery gravel tracks and little "stream-lets" of water all around, it was here that we caught our first glimpse of the opening of the Eisriesenwelt, the ice caves.

The world's longest accessible ice caves, these stretched to an astonishing labyrinth of 42 kms of claustrophobia inducing tunnels. The rather large entry crater quickly narrowed to a mere crevice as we crawled in to the mountain, as a gust of icy, cold wind at subzero temperatures hit us hard.
This was the nexus. The place where the cold air from the other end of the cave, 42 kilometres away, quickly flowed out to meet the warm air outside the cave(or is it the other way?). This was the reason the caves existed, and probably this why they had an astonishing set of ice caves.

Armed with Davy's Safety Lamps to light our way through the pitch dark caves, the cold air was unmistakable moist. Climbing several steps to the first step of the guided tour, the guide had an awesomely "draggy" English accent, who seemed to love the thought of us climbing 700 steep feet up and 700 down in our 1 km long tour, an equivalent of a 42 storey building apparently. Okay. Whatever made him happy.

The carbide lamps cast off an eerie blue glow along the walls of the cave. It was only when the Guide set up a dazzling white magnesium flare did we realize what an enormous cavern had we already climbed. Steep, densely packed ice filled up a pillar-less auditorium like grand hall, larger than any i had ever seen. And all naturally formed. The climb was steep, on wooden stairs glittering with slippery remnants of now trodden ice.

The caves reminded me of my childhood favourite, A Journey to the Centre of the Earth almost immediately. I dreaded the thought of being struck here someday with (or without) a light someday. The thought was horrifying, nausea inducing, to starve to death in a cold, damp cave in pitch black darkness.

Thankfully, i had light. Wooden stairs to guide me. And a guide. And the entire contingent of tourists. (But what if ... Beyond the 1km?)

The caves themselves, though one enormous stretch with just two openings along its entire length, branched off into several smaller paths along the way, each with its own distinctive icicle formations. From enormous blue tinged stalactites hanging as pillars across the caves, to whole sheaths of ice forming an icy wall of many layers, the water trickling down its surface still freezing to form ice. To mounds of stalagmite formed from limestone precipitations of the hill towering above it, to steep 73 degree slopes of ice formed many thousands of years ago. This place was enormous, ethereal and magnificent. The guide was a delightful chap called Lucas, who skidded across the hard, icy ground lighting flares, creating wonder out of darkness almost. We also saw Frigga, a polar bear like ice mass formed by intersecting stalactite and stalagmites. And an elephant that now looked like a camel, with a new hump slowly crystallizing on its back. Odin. This place let our fantasies run wild, to picturize huge waves halted midway at the crest or painful deaths by slipping down one of the icy interior, the possibilities were limitless.

An hour later, we were out. Blessed daylight again.and a clear, sunlit view of the mountain range awaited us outside. A prologue to Switzerland. Clouds flowing many feet below, the peaks were now bathing in sunlight, jagged and glacier rich.

Down far below in the valley soon, we wanted to go Hallein, a place enroute back to Salzburg. Here, we would spend some 8 Euros for a 2.3 km bob sledge ride down the hill at a breakneck speed. Alas, when Hallein did come some half an hour, the 5 of us were so deeply immersed in sleep that it was a unanimous decision to go straight back to Salzburg, and make the most of the one hour additional sleep we'd be getting.

Falafels at Salzburg, we walked across the city. To be honest, the city was disappointing. A few baroque buildings here and there, an over exposure to Mozart (whose birthplace this was) who hr branded on everything, selling chocolates to light bulbs to handkerchiefs. The cathedral here with its three large bronze doors was fantastically lit up in lights to commemorate world peace. The others intended to sit from 7 to 12 inside! Terribly bored soon enough, I took a long, long walk across the city, with its light drizzle and cold air. It's one of those things I enjoyed a lot, to take some time out thinking about nothing in particular; just I. Burger King, The Lost Symbol, an Austrian Army chap and a Pakistani gave me good company till 12, when Burger King finally closed.

It was fun watching the others shiver and crib about the cold. Poor them, they were wet and therefore, tired. Finally boarding the train at 2ish, we fell asleep quick, sharing seats to stretch ourselves and relax. Budapest tomorrow.