Slovenia: A country defined by its highpoint.

As you read at the end of my last blog posting, I had left Italy and was headed into Austria. There is a separate post for Austria coming, but briefly I can recount that I spent a day exploring the wonderful historic city of Leinz including getting acquainted with the works of a fabulous artist. Then I spent a second day hiking alongside the Pasterze Glacier that spills from the slopes of Austria's highest mountains. After some effort I was able to find a mountain guide (many had stopped work for season) for an attempt on Grossglockner, the highest peak in Austria. I spoke with Marcus on the phone but he had other guiding commitments and wasn't available until Monday. So I made a very spur of the moment decision to visit neighboring Slovenia for the three days until the start of my Austrian climb.  It was about a three hour drive to the border city of Villach.  Then just before crossing out of Austria and into Slovenia I saw roadside sign that caught my interest.

As the Cold War between East and West escalated Austria built a secret network of bunkers, military fortifications, and gun barrages. They were meant to save the small and neutral Alpine Republic from attack and the much anticipated marching through of the Soviets on their way west. This museum was one of these military installations and the only one now open to the public.

Entrance to the museum.

Extensive fortifications were developed on the Wurzenpass that links Slovenia and Austria as a key military base was located in the nearby Austrian city of Villach. The bunker complex was constructed between 1963 and 1995 and was fully operational until 2002.

Entrance to the bunker and tunnels.

Twice the complex went on full alert with all guns loaded for anticipated war (during 1968 with the Prague Uprising and then 1991 with the Civil War in neighboring Yugoslavia). The museum is essentially the entire complex with an elaborate system of tunnels leading to four massive tank turrets as well as various other anti-aircraft gun positions, heavy artillery, and tanks in strategic firing positions to cover the cross border road. In addition there were separate power generation systems, command and control bunkers, and living accommodations – all underground. I had the place to myself and walked through the maze of tunnels surprised to find that the military just walked out – there were newspapers in the barracks, stacks of tinned food in the storehouse, and all the equipment for running the operation left in place. The woman running the place said that locals had no idea that the complex was here or that it was as vast until it was decommissioned in 2005.

The big guns are still pointing across the hills to Slovenia. The complex was an underground maze of tunnels that all lead to various half buried tanks and other pieces of heavy artillery.

The woman running the museum asked if I would like to see a documentary from the local Austrian TV station of the war in neighboring Slovenia, although it was in German. She made us both a cup of coffee then sat next to me and proceeded to translate the entire 45 minute film. I am so glad she did as I learned so much which helped put my visit to Slovenia into a much richer context. Somewhat amusingly, the music for the opening of the film (which showed the most graphic images that were to follow) was set to a piece of music by the French electronic music pioneer, Jean Michel Jarre called Oxygene Part 2 (remembered by most New Zealanders and Australians as the music from the 1981 soundtrack to the WWI movie Gallipoli, starting a novice actor by the name of Mel Gibson. I wonder if the local producer of this war film knew that? Or perhaps this music just goes well with war!). The movie traced events over a two week time period, starting on the 25th of June 1991. On that day Slovenia pulled out of the Yugoslav Federation after years of growing frustration at being the most prosperous of the republics in Yugoslavia but often overlooked in spending or outright threatened by policies from the government in Belgrade. Just two days later the Serbian dominated Yugoslav Army streamed into Slovenia but meet heavy resistance from the local defense force, police, and even armed citizens. As the video showed, Austria was a little surprised by the outbreak of war on her border and ordered its Army to mobilize to protect her own people and lands. The video showed some amusing scenes as young conscripted soldiers were hurriedly painting Austria flags on their tanks and armored vehicles to avoid confusion with the Slovenian and Yugoslav armies. Some of video was horrific, fighting just across a river or over a line painted in the road separating Austria and Slovenia. One telling segment sticks out in my mind. Firstly, Yugoslavia ordered all Austria forces to move back five kilometers from the border. In somewhat of a gusty call on live television, the Austria Minister of Defense refused saying the Austria people needed to see their army was there and ready to protect. Then Yugoslavia asked for a brief ceasefire so both sides could evacuate their wounded. The film showed Slovenian fighters and locals alike running with the injured on homemade stretchers. Meanwhile, a Yugoslav army helicopter arrived with huge red crosses painted on the side. As the local Austria film crew reported from their vantage point across the border, an enormous amount of ammunition was taken off the helicopter and no wounded were loaded before it departed. The Slovenian's fought hard and after 10 days the European Union brokered a peace deal. The war claimed the lives of just 66 Slovenians. Meanwhile, the Yugoslavia army turned their attention to the other breakaway republic, and a terrible bloody war was waged against Croatia in which 100,000 were killed.

Austrian tank at the Bunker Museum.

Living in New Zealand, and now the US, I don't think I appreciate peace enough nor realize how war is truly horrific. The scale of the defenses of the bunker complex and the fact that the place was operational until 2005 was frightening to me. It brought the Cold War and the Slovenia War of Independence into a new and more graphic reality for me. I left the museum and within one minute of driving I was at the Austria/Slovenia border with its recently deserted border crossing stations. It seems funny to just slow down to 40kms and drive out of one country and into another.

Yet, the huge duty-free shop just across the border was still open and I bought a large amount of very cheap chocolate. Then almost instantly into wonderful Slovenian landscapes with famous toplarji hayracks.

These are almost like an emblem for the nation and are an important element in the culture and folk architecture. Apparently they are used to dry hay by capturing the wind while being protected from the frequent summer rain storms that are generated by the mountains. I didn't really have a destination in mind but rolled into the first place I came to: the ski resort town of Kranjska Gora. Visiting the Tourist Information Center trying to get details on climbing the country's highest peak, I saw a poster on the wall. I asked the lady; "Where is that as I want to go." She replied; It's Bled – 45 minutes drive from here."

I don't remember where or when but I do know I'd seen that incredible view before. Perhaps my friend Jeff has a photo of this place in one of his amazing slide shows from his global wanderings, or from my sister Rose who loved this place, or perhaps it is in a book of 100 places to see before you die, or,….who knows. But I do know I'd seen the place on that poster and knew I wanted to go and see it for myself.

Bled – beautiful lake with a castle on the left and historic church on a forested island

all surrounded by impressive mountains.

It is hard to describe your first (and second, third, etc) impressions of Bled. Perhaps the closest I can come up with is "almost too idyllic to be true".  The town of Bled is defined by an incredible little lake (just 2 kms long and 1.4 wide wide). A medieval castle sits high atop a bluff on the north end and in the middle of the lake is Bled Island (Blejskiotok), the only natural island in Slovenia. The island has several buildings, the main one being the Pilgrimage Church of the Assumption of Mary (built in the 15th century).

At the other end of the lack is the castle; first mentioned in 1004, which makes it one of the oldest in Slovenia. The oldest part of the castle is the tower. In the Middle Ages more towers were built and the fortifications were improved. The buildings are arranged around two courtyards and include a chapel built in the 16th century, and renovated around 1700.

I had a wonderfully lazy day sitting by the lake and wandering about the town. I went to the Tourist Information Center, a couple of sporting shops, and one climbing store and got terribly confusing information on hiking and climbing to the summit of nearby Trglav Mountain. Essentially, the message was you need to hire a guide as the route is difficult to find and dangerous. But this did not seem to match with what I recall reading on the Internet. I found a little hiking book of popular trails in the mountains (written by a Scottish guy) and sat down by the lake reading it while the sun slowly set behind the mountains I hoped to climb.

I've seen some incredible sunsets in my time – but this was really special. I will forever remember the setting sun in Bled.

In my Lonely Planet guidebook (also bought at the border crossing with my chocolate) it mentioned that "The Castle Restaurant has fabulous free views and mains for 20 Euro. It's run by Bled's catering and tourism school and staffed by its charming students."

I drove up to the castle and parked in the tour bus area (during the day you have to walk up the steep path from the lake.). I was able to do a brief 45 minute tour of the castle and its excellent little museum. Then off to the restaurant. I obviously had a trainee waiter taking my order and I asked to speak to his supervisor who was hovering nearby. Both seemed horrified at my request – I guess thinking some aspect of service was not to my liking. Instead, I explained what I do for a living and that I do research related to training in the tourism industry. The supervisor, who himself is a lecturer at the Tourism College located back in town. Our conversation was a wonderful sharing on a variety of topics related to tourism, training, and teaching. After my meal of roasted wild boar with local organic vegetables, we carried on talking for a little more and he brought the trainee back to practice his English. It transpires my student waiter was a young Serb from Belgrade on a tourism exchange training program. He told me how different tourism is in his home country and how much he had learned in his three months in Bled. I felt it said much about Slovenia that they would offer exchange programs to help the youth of a country they were at war with just 18 years ago. This evening with its excellent food served in an incredible location with a fascinating engaging conversation will be one of the many highlights from this incredible trip.

I had found a hotel with wifi (Internet connection) and spent some time that evening researching the climb. I learned a new trick. Much of my Goggle searches are for English only documents. Well this time I searched for Slovenian then used the Google translator function (the result is some very clunky and awkward language but you get the general idea). With my little hiking guide book and what I discovered online I knew I could climb this magnificent mountain on my own without a guide. I guess I stayed up too late as I had a much slower start from Bled in the morning than I planned (it was just so hard to pull myself away from such an incredibly idyllic spot). I headed back west retracing my journey of the day before by driving on a brand new EU financed motor way. I turned up the Vrata Valley passing a beautiful little church.

Then into Triglavski Narodni Park (Triglav National Park) which is a 84,000 hectare reserve (representing 4% of Slovenia's total land area) that surrounds and protects the highest mountain – Triglav.

I headed up the steep narrow little road deep into the mountains passing waterfalls, thick forest, and incredible blue streams.

I parked the car and hurriedly packed for what I thought would be a long day hike and took off. Almost immediately there was an alpine hut and adjacent little chapel.

Interestingly, camping is forbidden in this national park so your only option is to stay at the huts. This is the Aljazev Dom (Dom means hut) located at 1,015 meters above sea level in the upper part of Vrata valley, just past the road end. The first hut on this site was opened way back in 1896., but in 1909 the hut was destroyed by an avalanche. The new hut was opened the next year and it still stands today. It has 150 beds and is open from beginning of May till the end of October.

Off up the trail into a forest that reminded me a great deal of the beech forests of the east coast of New Zealand. Then an incredible monument with a huge piton and carabineer dedicated to the partisans who died fighting the Germans in these mountains during the Second World War.

The Partisans Memorial near the base of Triglav.

A little information on the mountain I was setting off to climb. The website "SummitPost" where I get much of my information for these climbs, notes: "Triglav is not just a mountain, Triglav is a kingdom", wrote Julius Kugy, famous explorer of Julian Alps, in his book Aus dem Leben eines Bergsteiger (From the Life of the Mountaineer). He couldn't be more right. The silhouette of Slovenia's sacred mountain, the nation's highest peak proudly stands on the national flag as part of national coat of arms. Its image in on the Slovenian 50 Euro cent coin with Triglav depicted below the constellation of Cancer (Slovenia achieved independence under the zodiac sign of Cancer) with a semi-circle above that having two lines of text, the outer one reading SLOVENIJA (Slovenia) between the twelve stars and the inner one reading "Oj Triglav moj dom" (O Triglav, My Home) from the patriotic song written by Jakob Aljaž, a Slovene priest, composer, and mountaineer. The first president of Slovenia, Milan Kucan, said that it is the obligation of every Slovenian to climb Triglav once at least. Triglav does not only have an appeal for the people of Slovenia as it is regarded as an international giant for rock climbers and mountaineers. Despite the lower height compared to many other European peaks, it attracts thousands of people each year from all over the world on their own pilgrimage to Triglav's kingdom. "

At 2,864 meters (9,396 ft) Triglav is the highest mountain in Slovenia (and in all of the former Yugoslavia) and the highest peak of the Julian Alps. The origin of the name Triglav is still not completely clear. Triglav means three heads (tri glave). The early Slav's believed that the mountain was the home of a three-headed deity who ruled the sky, the earth, and the underworld. Although the most often provided rationale for the name comes from the profile (seen only from the south) that shows three peaks/heads (on the left is Rjavec (2,568 m), in the middle is main summit, Triglav (2,864 m) and on the right is Mali Triglav (2,72 5m, small Triglav), which is actually just a shoulder of the main peak. The first recorded ascent of Triglav was made on 26 August 1778, by Luka Korošec, Matija Kos, Štefan Rožič, and Lovrenc Willomitzer making it one of earliest big European mountains to be climbed.
 

 Leaving the Partisans' Monument I then headed up, straight up, one of the steepest trails I've ever ascended. It was called Tominškov Pot (or in English the Tominskova Route) being named for Dr. Fran Tominšek who was President of the Slovenian Mountaineering Society. He pioneered the route in 1903 and today it is regarded as being the second most difficult of the 20 well established routes to the summit. A sign near the base said 5 hours to the summit. It was hot and hard going up through the trees but the views down the valley were incredible.

 

Note the damage to the tress from acid rain - a huge problem in this national park.

Then the trail essentially ended and was replaced by wire cables and metal foot pegs sticking out from the rock. This is called a via ferreta (although each country has a name for them in their own language but I'm going with the most common and original Italian0. Originally developed in Italy they can now be found throughout the mountains of Europe with a few sprinkled elsewhere around the world. During World War I and more specifically, along the Austro-Hungarian/Italian front in the Dolomite Mountains troops established routes with ropes, fixed wire cable lines, and ladders to ease movement across the steep faces. Indeed via ferreta originally meant iron road. After the war many of the via farrata were restored with steel cables replacing ropes and iron ladders and metal rungs (called stemples) anchored into the rock have taken the place of the flimsy wooden structures used by the troops. Some via farrata are tourist attractions in and of themselves, others just part of a trail to the high peaks. Thinking I might do some of this in France I had bought a special harness in Chamonix and now got to use it for the first time. It essentially ties into the front loop of a regular climbing harness and has two equal-length webbing loops with a snap-lock carabineer on the end. This allows a single climber, without a rope or partner, to move along and up the cables. And as long as you only move carabineer at a time, then you are always safely connected to the mountain.

Hard to see in this view – but it is about a 100 meter (320 foot) drop if you fall off the metal stemples, that is why you connect yourself to the wire cable.

Across another section with an even bigger drop.

After five hours of hard climbing the via ferrata ended and a moonscape of worn limestone rock appeared. I followed this upwards passing the small remnant Triglav Glacier (the only glacier in this mountain range located just 50 miles from the ocean, but global warming has reduced it so much that it is anticipated to be gone within 10 years).

The view up - miles of steep limestone to cross.

 

The view down across what is left of Triglav Glacier.

 

Meeting the locals.

Nearly six hours after leaving the car I reached the Kredarica Ridge – the final push of two hours to the summit begins here. But it had taken a lot longer than the signs suggested so I checked into the massive Triglavski Dom na Kredarici (translates as Triglav Hut on Kredarica) at 2,515 meters. Luckily I found they had room for me for the night.

Triglavski Dom na Kredarici is largest and highest hut in Slovenia. It is placed just above the pass between the top of Kredarica Ridge (2,540m) and the base of the summit ridge of Triglav. It was built by Slovenian Mountaineering Society in 1896 behind the idea of Jakob Aljaz. Since then it has been enlarged many times. The hut today was built in 1984 and in 1992 a chapel was erected next to the hut. Later a meteorological station was built and this is operated year round. The hut has 300 beds, 5 dining rooms, and is full (often overcrowded) most weekends during the brief two month climbing season (August/September). I joined the huge crowd and ate an over-priced totally unsatisfying meal of goulash followed by gloppy macaroni and cheese (although it appeared the cheese was absent!). Being on my own, surrounded by beer drinking rapidly getting drunk Slovenian's who appeared not to know how to speak English, I headed downstairs and thanks to a iPod in my ears managed a great night's sleep.

I awoke to a terrible wet cloudy morning and accompanying breakfast equal to the dour surroundings and meteorological conditions. I almost pride myself on not only my ability to consume terrible coffee but also to recount the truly horrific cups of this seemingly easy to prepare beverage I've ingested over the years. Well, the mountain hut high on Triglav will now stand alone in all its glory as being the location for the absolutely worst coffee – ever! It was then I made a couple of interesting discoveries. The locals were drinking chai not coffee (with chai meaning tea - nothing like what you get if you order chai if a coffee shop but rather a pre-made strong super sweet fruit tea). Not only was it good but it was 1/4 the price of the toxic by-product being passed off as coffee. The second discovery was a group of English speaking folks who I joined as we waited for the weather to clear. The Anglo-speaking group of the Vienna Chapter Austrian Mountaineering Club could not have been more geographically diverse with members from Germany, the Czech Republic, England, Ireland, and the United States (all working in Austria – mostly for multinational corporations or government embassies).

After too many cups of chai and only a marginal improvement in the weather we headed up the summit path route into the mist and clouds. All the guidebooks and signs in the hut warn of rock fall on this section. I was glad I was wearing my helmet but aghast that over half those climbing were not. As previously mentioned, there are about 20 routes to the summit – most are long but gentle hikes from the south and west, unlike the steep path I took up the north face. So, we joined a great number of day hikers which caused delays at the sections of fixed cables and via ferreta. It was no where near as steep as yesterday do I didn't bother with harness, in fact, very few did.

Heading up from the hit into the clouds.

Along the ridge – climbing with the English speakers from the Vienna Mountaineer Club.

An incredible moment just like in an airplane as I climbed through the clouds and into bright blue sky.

In just a few minutes more of continuing to following the sharp ridge line – the summit suddenly came into view with its famous little shelter right on the highest spot.

Aljazev Stolp on top of Triglav is located at 2,864 meters (9,396 feet). The idea for a shelter on the summit was first proposed by Jakob Aljaz, the priest from Dovje-Mojstrana village near the base of the mountain, and well-known explorer of Julian Alps. Jakob (born 1845-died 1927) played a huge role in the development of climbing in this range and in helping to establish the myth and mystic surrounding climbing this mountain. He arrived for his assignment in Dovje-Mojstrana in 1889, a year after German mountaineers built a hut (which still stands) to provide access to the mountain. The Germans next developed plans to build a massive viewpoint on the summit and a cog railway to provide an easy way to the top in the hopes of developing tourism. Aljaz was outraged and decided to purchase the summit area from the communal village owners in Mojstrana to show the Germans that Triglav is a Slovenia mountain. This act essentially prevented the type of development found on many European alpine peaks. Then in 1895 he decided to privately fund the placing of a small round structure on the summit of Triglav to act as a symbol, viewpoint, and small shelter. . He designed a building based on a church pillar, just 1,90m high and 1,25m in diameter to accommodate 4 to 5 people. Apparently, as the story goes, six stong men from the village each made trips to the summit with 20kg sections of the tower. On August 7th, Anton Belec and four assistants put it together in 5 hours and erected 1m high wall around it to make it more resistant to fierce winds. Since then it is stood proudly on the summit of Triglav and has since become a National symbol and in 1990 it was declared a cultural and historical monument.

Arriving at the summit was one of the most amazing experiences I've had in the mountains. I was tired as it was slog up the ridge line and the English speakers from Vienna are all very fit (with one exception and we left him to plod on up at his own pace). There were probably about 20 others there when we arrived and much cheering went up from the crowd. Others came over to shake hands and ask if we were Slovenian. It transpires that if you are you have to stick your head through the door of the Ajazev Stolp while someone else slaps your backside three times (ideally with a birch branch but obviously a length of climbing rope seemed to suffice). Then you are called a true Slovenian. There was an incredible festive, supportive, and clearly nationalistic spirit that you could not only see but feel. It was like the United Nations with climbers from the Czech Republic, Iran, Great Britain, Ireland, Serbia, Italy, Germany, Austria, US, and GB, and of course me (NZ/USA). And each time a new climber or group arrived the whole cheering, handshaking, and backside slapping began all over again. A group of young guys from Serbia arrived and they had carried two flags to the summit. I thought it was a class act when they took photos first with the Slovenia flag then their own Serbian (the colors are the same). I asked if I could borrow their Slovenia flag and have a photo I really like to remember this incredible mountain.

On top of Triglav – the highest point of Slovenia. The mountain is featured on the national flag.

I left the summit and headed back to hut for a quick bottle of coke. Then on down a different trail, although not quite as steep or without quite as much via ferrata. I followed the Prag Route which follows beneath a huge towering buttress (or Prag meaning threshold in Slovenian) dropping a knee jarring 1,900 meters (6,234 feet on my journey from the summit to the valley floor.

Interesting erosion patterns on the limestone – Prag Route.

Looking back up one of the many steep sections – note the three climbers to get an idea of the scale.

Beneath the towering Prag – which gives the route its name.

I passed several such monuments to those killed at various places (both on the way up and down). Seeing these always made me pay a little extra attention to foot and hand holds.

Near the base the weather cleared and I was presented with the full view of the massive North Face.

The three km wide and almost 2km high North Face of Triglav – home to some famous and seriously difficult rock climbs. My route up and down took ridges and gullies to the far left of this view.

Back to the car tired, hungry, but having had a wonderful adventure. I drove into Kranjska Gora to find almost every hotel room taken with a huge international mountain bike race being held on a nearby ski resort. I tried the youth hostel – the dorms were filled but they offered me a single room in a nearby building and I have the entire place to myself.

My very own youth hostel for the night.

Leaving town the next morning the jagged main ridge of the Julian Mountains rose straight up from the fields presenting a lasting image to treasure. What a wonderful discovery this little country was and what an incredible moving experience was provided to me on her special mountain. It felt like I had been given a gift from Slovenia. I have often thought during this travel that I guess (perhaps not, but maybe…) I could learn the essence of these countries I visit by reading the classic literature. Or perhaps viewing the most famous films would work equally well. Or days spent visiting the major cultural museums, art galleries, and historic buildings would no doubt shed light on the land and her peoples. Yet, I feel that travelling alone into the heart of the mountains, being fully awake and aware of the surroundings, and meeting and interacting with the others (mostly locals) there to share their mountain with you provides me deep, rich, and unique insights and experiences I'll forever treasure. My climb to Triglav and short visit to Slovenia are one such priceless gift.

Morning view of the Julian Mountains.

I headed west and shortly arrived at the border with Italy and then drove through some incredible mountainous country, partly on toll motorways and party on little winding roads. I had my iPod connected to the car radio and selected music I thought best fit the countryside. I know my friend Jeff will understand when I say that this was perfect Chris Rea driving terrain. Up over yet another steep mountain pass with the structures of the WWI front-line still clearly visible and I was back into Austria making my way to back to the glacial peaks of the Alps and the village of Kals. I'll pick up the story there in my next post.

Italy: Magnificent mountains, museums, and meeting Messner.

My second foray into Italy was not going to be much longer than my first. Well, that is the beauty of this trip. When I wake up in the morning I never quite know where I am going to be that night. If I like a place or find an attraction I want to visit, then I stay around, and if not, I move on down whatever road looks like fun. It took a little while to really get into the routine of traveling this way and learning to accept the uncertainty of not knowing if there will be a place to stay (but that's OK – I can camp or sleep in the car) or if I'll find a restaurant or place to buy food (but that's OK – I carry a couple of liters of water and a few chocolate bars for such occasions).

With this style of travel in mind I rolled out of Switzerland and into Italy with only the vaguest idea of where I was headed. I had read about a mountaineering museum created by climbing legend Reinhold Messner near the city of Bolzano and thought it might be interesting to visit. So with the GPS set for the city center of Bolzano I rolled down Highway SS41 through Tubre just over the border and then shortly thereafter into Glurns (in German) or Glorenza (in Italian).

The beautiful little city of Glurns/Glorenza just over the border into Italy.

Apparently, this is the smallest city in Italy with just 800 people but having official city status. The origins of the city go back to 1163 and in the 1580s the entire town was protected by massive stone walls. The river Etsch (in German) or Adige (Italian) flows through the town passing close by one of the two city gates. I watched as a large tour bus squeezed through the other city gate barely making it with just an inch or two spare on either side.

This gate is a tight fit if you ever plan on driving a bus through here.

As I continued on my way I passed several castles and miles of apple orchards in truly spectacular countryside.

Next was the town of Kastelbell-Tschars (German) or Castelbello-Ciardes (Italian). You may be wondering, as I was, why the name of these Italian towns are given first in German, then Italian? Well, that requires a brief review of the history of Tyrol. Tyrol was once a country, part of the Holy Roman Empire, later the Austrian Empire, and finally a crownland (autonomous province or state) of Austria-Hungary. To cut a long (very long) story short, but check this link for the whole history of Tyrol, both Italian and German speaking peoples lived in the region. Then war made things complicated. Many battles in World War I were fought in the Tyrolean Alps and with the Allied victory came the peacetime task of establishing new national boundaries. Tyrol was divided with the southern section given to Italy, despite the fact the vast majority of the people living there were German speaking with strong ties to Austria. Then in the years leading up to WWII Italian dictator Mussolini began a program of Italianization with massive immigration programs encouraging Italians from the south to move into the area and banning the teaching of German in schools. Germany "annexed" all of Tyrol and remained there even after Italy capitulated. The end of the Second World War saw the land given to Italy for the second time and the start of considerable tension between Italy and Austria over what was now officially called South Tyrol. An agreement was negotiated in 1946, recognizing the rights of what was now the German minority although this did not make all happy and a brief terrorist campaign with savage bombings brought international pressure and United Nations negotiations between the two governments. Finally in 1972 South Tyrol was given special status as an autonomous province and both Italian and German are recognized as the official languages, although 64% of the population speak German. Today, South Tyrol is peaceful and the wealthiest Italian province with a very high degree of autonomy (i.e., keeping 90% of collected taxes rather than passing them onto the Italian government in Rome). It has strong relations with the Austrian state of Tyrol, especially since Austria's 1995 entry into the EU, the common currency, and disappearance of national borders. So, technically I am in Italy, but the area is linked in many ways to Austria with the people speaking German.

In Kastelbell-Tschars/Castelbello-Ciardes I stopped into the Tourist Information Center and asked the young woman working there if she had any information on the Messner Museum. "Which one? was her reply. Well it turns out there are four (with a fifth currently under construction). The closest was just four miles down the road. There was not time to visit given the late hour of the afternoon so she assisted in finding me a cheap place to stay which turned out to be an incredibly furnished room in the attic of a guest house – it was fabulous.

I also noticed a brochure in the Tourist Info Center on a large hot pool complex in the nearby city of Meran/Merano (the two name thing gets complicated doesn't it). It was about a 30 minute drive to this pretty city of 33,000.

Situated on the banks of Passer River the Therme Meran was a fabulous thermal pool complex. I had a wonderful swim and soak watching the sunset from the thermally heated outdoor pool – a pretty magic experience.

Therme Meran.

 Next morning I had a great walk around Kastelbell-Tschars/Castelbello-Ciardes and up to the old castle (not open until 1:00 pm for tours so all my photos are from the outside). The castle was built by the local Lords but after 1200 it was owned by the Count of Tyrol (essentially the rulers of Tyrol). After a fire in the 1800s the building was reduced to ruins and title transferred to the Italian government in 1956 with a full restoration done in 1987.

The castle that gave Kastelbell-Tschars/Castelbello-Ciardes its name.  Note the rose plants at the end of the rows of grapes - apparently roses are a good indicator if disease is attacking the vines.

Leaving town it was only a short drive to another famous castle. In keeping with his very strong environmental policies (Messner served as a Member of the European Parliament from 1999 to 2004 for the Italian Green Party) there are no cars allowed up the steep mountain access road so you pay to ride an electric powered van. At the top is Castle Juval, personal home of the Messner Family and also an incredible museum.

I know all my climbing friends reading this know who Reinhold Messner is, but perhaps not everyone else does. Reinhold Messner (born September 17, 1944 in Brixen – not too far from Meran/Merano in the Italian Province of South Tyrol) is often cited as the greatest mountain climber of all time. His website states that: In his over three thousand climbs he has achieved over a hundred first ascents, and was the first to climb all 14 of the world's 8000+ meter peaks. Messner was the first to reach the summit of Mount Everest without oxygen support which many considered to be impossible and then repeated the feat with the first solo climb of the world's highest mountain. He also made unsupported crossings of Antarctic, Greenland, Tibet, and the Gobi desert. His exploits are well know and documented in the over 50 books he has written. He now devotes his time to developing the Messner Mountain Museum project, five interrelated thematic museums dedicated to the art, culture, religion, and unique aspects of mountain regions throughout the world.

Schloss Juval.

The castle (official name is Schloss Juval) gets name from the Latin 'jugum altum', (high pass) in response to its position some 500 meters above the junction of two valleys. The castle dates back to 1278 and Hugo Von Montalban, whose intention was to build a fortified residence to control the highly travelled pass through to Austria. During the Renaissance it was enlarged at the hands of the Sinkmosel family, wealthy wine merchants, who spent a fortune on decorations that still survive in parts of the structure today. The records of the castle ownership then become unknown although is it sat abandoned and ruined for many generations until 1913 when bought by William Rowland, from the Netherlands. He fell in love with the region and the castle and began an extensive restoration until he was forced to flee under the fascist Mussolini regime. Again it sat vacant then was used as a youth hostel for a few years until 1983 when Messner bought it as a place for he and his family to live. The brochure describes that "he has done a 'restoration' rather than 'renovation' as virtually nothing of the original structure was changed. Skilled local artisans were called in to repair tile and timber floors, craft beautiful doors and even old-style locks, and install wonderful traditional Majolica stuba stoves to heat the vast rooms - no central heating was installed for fear of damaging the frescoes and plaster."

Courtyard shaded by Himalayan cedars.

Outside wall of castle - note sundial.

Close-up of sun dial.

The museum is closed during the winter, given the lack of heat and the fact that the water supply freezes over, and only opens for two months in the spring and two months in the fall (for three months over summer the Messner family are in residence and the place is closed). You can only tour with a guide in small groups (our small group of five spoke German, Italian, and me with English. Luckily the guide spoke all three fluently!). The tour began in a beautiful courtyard shaded by magnificent Himalayan cedars, planted by the Rowland not Messner, although this selection of tree was quite fitting given the collection of art from Nepal, Tibet, and India.

Then it was inside and a visit to the family's living quarters (where photo's were prohibited) to see what the brochure described in overly poetic prose, but accurately; The rooms have been fitted out with simple and traditional wooden furniture, in keeping with the castle feel. One dreamy timber-paneled alcove looks out to emerald fields and snow-covered ranges. From the picture-book kitchen a narrow staircase drops to the cellar directly underneath. Here bottles of Blauburgunder (Pinot nero) from the estate's organic vineyards are lined up, as are rounds of traditional rye bread. The tour guide told that us bread was traditionally baked only twice a year in these alpine valleys, then left to completely dry out. An evil guillotine looking chopper was then needed to cut it into useable chunks. Apparently this type of bread being suitable for soups or very tough teeth!

The residence part of the castle.

Despite the rooms of wonderful art that were to come, I found the adjacent room to the food cellar to be the most interesting. In a huge cave-like room with a sloping rough rock floor is where all the gear from Messner's epic expeditions were stored. There were dozens of ice axes, even more backpacks of all different sizes, wardrobe type storage for racks of jackets and one-piece down climbing suits (the more recent being covered in patches of the logos of corporate sponsors), several sleeping bags hanging, and an impressive shelve of perhaps 30 pairs of battered looking boots. It was the biggest gear room I've ever seen. Then up winding stone stairs to a banquet hall with a beautiful vaulted ceiling with some of the original frescoes from the mid-15th century still on the walls. The highlight of the room was a huge, long, narrow table hewn from a single tree trunk and originally housed in an Italian monastery. Leading off this room was another huge room – this one Messner's library where he does most of his writing over the summer. His collection of books would shame many public libraries, and yet his were all on mountaineering and climbing. I noted a few shelves of New Zealand books.

Then out to the old keep or tower where walls were filled with art work dedicated to the what the brochure called the "Myth and Magic of the Mountains." However, this being a translated from German/Italian into English I think a more apt title would be: "The spirituality of the Mountains". I'll include just a representative photo or two from the Tibetan collection, a gallery of paintings of the world's holy mountains, a collection of masks from five continents, and a Tantra Room.

Right by the back gate to the castle is a little sign.

It was an incredible visit. I loved the art work, loved the setting, and kind of loved getting to see the house of this famous climber. I left and decided to head back up the valley I descended yesterday to visit a second of his museums.

At Schloss Juval - the first of four Messner Mountain Museums.

The second museum in Sulden am Ortler, was built in an underground structure at 1,900 meters (6,234 feet) above sea-level.

Entrance to Messner Museum at Ortler.

It is stated to be devoted to the world of ice, which is true although I think an expanded theme of the "Science of the Ice World" could also apply. The village, which is mostly a winter ski town and summer base for hiking and climbing, sits right beneath a massive peak called Ortler. This peak rises straight almost 2 kilometers to its summit at 3,905 meters (12,812 feet) and presents an impressive backdrop to the museum. This peak, and its equally impressive if slightly lower neighbors, is apparently one of the favorites for Messner. He has built an amazing collection of paintings of this mountain and range. But the museum also features a range of artworks that capture ice; glaciers, the Poles and surrounding Arctic and Antarctic mountains, and 'The Third Pole – Mt. Everest.'

I stayed overnight in a guest house in Sulden am Ortler and watched an incredible sunset then arriving storm from my room.

View of setting sun and arriving storm from room of guesthouse in Sulden.

The next morning I left for a day of demanding driving over a series of incredible mountain passes. First up, after passing through beautiful little Trafoi, was the second highest pass in the Alps; Passo dello Stelvio (Italian)/ or Stilfser Joch Pass (German) at 2,757 m (9,045 ft).

Trafoi.

Wikipedia notes: The original road was built in 1820-25 by the Austrian Empire to connect the former Austrian province of Lombardia with the rest of Austria and since then, the route has changed very little. Its sixty hairpin turns, 48 of them on the northern side. Before the end of World War I, it formed the border between the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the Italian Kingdom. During World War I, fierce battles were fought in the ice and snow around the top of the pass. The road is very popular with cyclists and motorcyclists and according to the British television show "Top Gear," the Stelvio Pass is the greatest driving road in the world.

Passo dello Stelvio.

I joined a steady process of motorbikes and cyclists (I cannot imagine how your legs would scream coming up this beast of a road) as I climbed each switchback. Amusingly, I also pulled over to let a car rally of those little Smart cars to overtake me.

Look out! Little cars coming through.

The road was barely wide enough for a single car so meeting downhill traffic was quite an adventure. Twice cars got so close that they hit my side mirrors! At the top, somewhat in the clouds, I visited a small museum that documents the terrible battles fought here during the First World War. Just a few weeks earlier and entire crate of unexploded bombs emerged from the ice – and bodies and the detritus of war are still commonly uncovered, especially during late summer as the ice and snow melts.

Photo of recently found WWI ammo near the top of the Pass.

I dropped down the other side into the ski resort of Bormio then immediately up and over another high pass (Passo Gavia) then down and up over Passo del Tonale followed by the town of Male (with this as the name of the town you can imagine that there were some amusing streets signs). I finally reached Bozen/Bolzano late in the afternoon and made my way directly to the centerpiece of the Messner Mountain Museums; MMM Firmian located in Sigmundskron Castle built in 945. The stated theme of this museum was "People's Encounters with the Mountains". Much of this could be simplified by saying that through art and historically mementoes it traced the history of mountaineering and the alpine tourist industry.

Much to my surprise in the courtyard of the old castle I saw Reinhold Messner sitting being filmed for what looked like a TV interview. I watched for a little while but kind of felt weird despite my desire to meet him. I decided to focus instead on the wonderful collection. It was hard to know what was more impressive – the castle setting or the fabulous art collection. A few photos of the views around the castle and some of my favorites from the collection.

Messer being interview in the courtyard of the castle.

James Belcher: 1996.  Mt. McKinnley-The Source.

Sir Edmund Hillary - The only piece of art work linked to New Zealand.

As I was leaving so too was Reinhold. I walked up and said how much I had enjoyed all his museums and asked if I could have my photo taken with him. "Only if you are fast as I am in a hurry". I quickly recruited a guy standing nearby and as a result have a picture of myself with arguably one of the worlds, if not the, greatest alpine climber in the world.

I must confess to being really thrilled at having the chance to say hello and have my photo with him. His climbs are really the stuff of legend – although having seen these museums and knowing that he is plowing a lot of his own money into these I think I'm more impressed with his role of collector of mountain art and for restoring these important cultural buildings. In several places were signs saying that the works collected from Tibet would be given back to the country once the Chinese occupation ends.


Not having a guide book for Italy (never really expected spending much time here) I decided to head north as the city of Bozen/Bolzano looked pretty industrial and a few attempts at finding a place to stay were futile. I headed north out of town taking the A22 motorway (the closest to the US Interstate I've driven on so far) towards Austria. With darkness approaching I turned off and paid my exit toll then rolled into Bressanone/Brixen (the two name thing gets a little harder when they appear not even close in words and usually only one or the other is on my map or GPS). This area was spectular with miles of apple orchards so I stayed at the appropriately named "Hotel Jonathan".

I walked the two minutes into town and found the one restaurant in town packed with locals. They had one person among the staff who spoke English and said the only space available for me would be to join others. I was seated at a tiny table with two women, who other than saying hello said nothing else. It was a most odd experience (maybe for them too!). The menu was of course in German and Italian, so I took a random selection under the heading of Pizza. It was really good, although an unusual combination of toppings (a very strongly flavored and smelly cheese, piles of soggy spinach in huge lumps, and a sliced egg. But not chicken – perhaps it was duck or goose). Next morning, after perhaps the best breakfast of this trip so far, I headed up into the Dolomite Mountains. These mountains are almost beyond description – huge towers and spires for as far as the eye can see.

One of my first destinations was Lake Misurina. The place looked vaguely familiar and I subsequently learned that the ice skating events of the 1956 Winter Olympics were held on the frozen surface – the last time Olympic skating events were held outside on natural ice.  A short drive into Cortina d'Ampezo, which was the host city for the above-mentioned 1956 Winter Games. Not too long to explore as there was one more Messner Mountain Museum to visit.

Arriving into Cortina d’Ampezo.

MMM Dolomites also called the "The Museum in the Clouds" is the highest museum in Europe located on the summit of Monte Rite (2,181 m/7,156 ft). It was quite an adventure to get here as the access road is blocked. It took ages to figure out how the system worked as there were no signs nor anyone around who spoke (or confessed to speaking) English. I paid a rather hefty 12 Euro to a couple of guys who took us up a ridiculously steep 4-wheel drive track in brand new Land Rovers. Quite an enterprising way to make money I thought. But upon arriving the cost was immediately worth it – the 360° panorama of spectacular mountains in the Dolomite Range was incredible: Monte Schiara, Monte Agnèr, Monte Civetta, Marmolata, Monte Pelmo, Tofana di Rozes, Sorapis, Antelao, Marmarole. Little wonder Messner thinks this is the "most beautiful mountain range in the world" (although I'm sticking with New Zealand's Southern Alps for my vote).
The museum is built inside of an old WWI Fort. Early in the 1900s Monte Rite was selected for the construction of a "state-of-the-art" fort. During WWI the frontline ran right through the fort and it was occupied by both armies. When they retreated each tried repeatidily to blow it up – but it somehow remained mostly intact. It then served as a base for Italian partisans during the Second World War before Messner took it over in 1998 with the doors opening in 2002.

View across the roof of the museum.

Theme of this museum is "rock" (or perhaps more accurately; "Art representing rock and the sport of rock climbing).

One of the most impressive sights is the view through the windows to perfectly framed shots of the mountains.

The view out the window was also art.

The museum is only for four months over the summer and would close in a week so I'm glad I saw it and indeed it provided a great capstone to the series of MMMs.

I've had several days to reflect on how and perhaps why I enjoyed these museums so much. It had very little to do with the 'fame factor' of Messner and much more to do with the representation of mountains through art shown in fabulous settings. Individually and collectively these museums shows how truly special mountains are. I have always loved being in the mountains – while standing on the summit is wonderful, it is not why I climb. The visit to these four wonderful museums helped solidify my love of the worlds mountains, my appreciation of alpine art, and increased my desire to see the worlds' great peaks and experience being in their presence.

That night I drove through the scenic town of Pieve di Cadore, hometown of Tiziano Vecelli (born 1473 died 27 August 1576) better known as Titian who was one of the leading painters of the Renaissance. A massive statue of him adorns the museum outside of the house in which he was born. I found a fabulous campsite that night tucked in amongst the trees across the river from Pieve di Cadore and listened to the chiming of church bells each hour through the night. Yet, it was not irritating but rather all part of the magic of camping in the Dolomites.

Morning view of the church at Pieve di Cadore.

The view upstream from my campsite.

Next morning into Auronzo di Cadore, another picture postcard town for breakfast with supplies bought from the supermarket. The town is dominated by Tre Cime di Lavaredo (Italian for "Three Peaks"). I found a rough dirt road, thanks to GPS, that approached the base of this famous mountain. Amazingly, it was climbed for the first time way back in 1869.

Auronzo di Cadore.

Right beneath Tre Cime di Lavaredo.

Up over another steep pass, this one called Saint Antanio and down into the town of Padola and an incredible soak in their hot pools looking up at the peaks.

I had the hot pool to myself at Terme della Dolomiti.

 Feeling wiped out after sitting in hot water for two hours in was over one final Italian alpine pass and down into the ski resorts of Moso, Seso, and San Candido before crossing out of Italy and into Austria.

Ski area at San Candido beneath the Dolomites.

So, Italy was highlighted by mountains, museums, and meeting Messner. The Dolomites are a truly spectacular range of mountains. There is also a great deal of history, characterized by war and conflict.  I really struggled with the language here a lot more than other places as there just are not people who speak English. Yet, these fabulous peaks and historic towns are just begging for a repeat visit. I hope it won't be too long before I'm back.