Having crossed out of Italy I followed the base of the Dolomite Mountains into the medieval city of Leinz (not to be confused with the much larger city of Linz located in the north of the country). On the way I passed several interesting old churches and historic castles (and once got both in one photo). There were no huge car parks and no signs indicating that these were tourist sites which I find amazing. The history of Europe and how it is manifested in wonderful old buildings never ceases to surprise me.
I wasn't planning on spending much time in Leinz but ended up having a fascinating 24 hour visit. I am discovering that mid-sized cities I don't know much about tend to produce some of my most fun times for exploring. For one thing, they are a lot cheaper than the big cities and a whole lot easier to get around. With 12,500 citizens Leinz was the perfect size, with the perfect amount of interesting sights to see without being overwhelming with dozens of guidebook recommendations, and lastly, it was perfect for a decent range of inexpensive accommodations – it really was perfect in every way. The location at the base of the Dolomites to the south and the Alps to the north at the junction of the Isel and Drau Rivers is pretty magic.
Dolomite Range near Leinz.
I rolled into town just before the Tourist Office closed for the day. They were really helpful in assisting me find a place to stay. Increasingly I am finding that I'm traveling at the end of tourist season. Expensive hotels that cater to business travelers stay open (think of a Holiday Inn but for about $175 a night and you get the picture). But many hotels, B and B's, and pensions seemed to be closing down – either for a few months or often until next spring. So I was thrilled to find the super cheap Gästehaus Vergeiner which came with free parking (this can add up to half the price of the room in some places) and free breakfast. But perhaps the best feature was the free view from the balcony of my room.
View from my window at the Gästehaus Vergeiner in Leinz.
The area of Lienz has been settled for over 4,000 years. Relics found from the Bronze Age about 2000 BC suggest that Celtic peoples moved in and worked as farmers and miners. Then in 15 BC the area came under control of the Roman Empire. It was incorporated into the province of Noricum and Emperor Claudius had a municipium (city) built called Aguntum. The exact location of Aguntum had been lost to history until a massive highway construction project uncovered it. Amazing they continued with the highway project building a bridge over the Roman ruins.
The Roman ruins of the city of Aguntun on the outskirts of Leinz.
Aguntum then became the seat of an Early Christian bishop in the 5th century but this rank was lost during the settlement of the Eastern Alps by the Slavs, around 600 AD. Not much is known of the city until it appears in written records from 1030, then known as Luenzina. The city and land around became a part of the Patriarchate of Aquileia and was acquired by the Counts of Gorizia, who chose Lienz as their residence. It received city rights on February 25, 1242 and in 1278 the Counts finished building Schloss Bruck, a castle that until 1500 served as the base of power for the region. When the Gorizia dynasty ended in 1500 their estates were bequeathed to Maximilian I of Habsburg and were incorporated into the County of Tyrol. I've already reviewed the history of Tyrol (see the Italy blog), so you know that after World War I the region, and Leinz, became a part of Trentino-Alto Adige/Südtirol awarded to the Kingdom of Italy. After the 1938 annexation of Austria into Nazi Germany, the Lienz district became a part of the Carinthia. After heavy allied bombing, which killed over 600 civilians, the British army arrived on May 8, 1945 and stayed for ten years as part of an occupying force. I guess I never knew that after the Second World War Austria was divided between the four Allies (See this link here for a map that shows how Austria was divided). Lienz, with the neighboring provinces of Carinthia and Styria, were in the UK Occupation Zone. Unlike South Tyrol, which was returned to Italy, East Tyrol, and its largest city, Leinz, remained a part of Austria when on May 1955 the Austria State Treaty was signed, officially establishing the independence and sovereignty of the nation. So Lienz and East Tyrol remain culturally and geographically cutoff from the Austrian Province of Tyrol and Italian South Tyrol, of which they were once all a single entity.
After a great nights' sleep and fabulous breakfast I decided to have a walk around town. I passed a very expensive looking hotel flying the flags (from left to right) of the European Union, Austria, the East Tyrol Region, and lastly, the city flag of Lienz. I would have to give the patriotic flag waving completion to the Swiss, but the Austrians aren't far behind as you see flags from the great majority of houses.
Then, given the name of my high school I thought I had best pay a visit to Stadtpfarrkirche St. Andrä (St. Andrew's Church). This is the oldest church in Lienz. It was erected on the site of an early Christian church during the Romanesque period and was renovated by the Counts of Gorizia in the 15th century. Even my Lonely Planet Guidebook suggested a visit with the note that "this Gothic gem is a quite place for contemplation." I love the fact that all churches in Europe are open (during the day) and inside you often find art works of museum quality. This was no exception.
Check out the ceiling - wow.
Then Lonely Planet offered a wonderful surprise. "The hidden gen of this church is the Kriegergedächtniskappelle (war memorial chapel). This lies in a small building built into the wall around the church yard. It will be locked, however you can get the key that hangs on the door at Pfarrgasse 13 (a short walk to the Parish Priests house)."
Just the like the guidebook said –
Inside this dark and solemn place were some incredibly eye catching art works. In 1923 the city decided to build a war memorial for those from East Tyrol killed in the First World War. A local artist, Albin Egger-Lienz was asked to design the interior. He selected to paint a series of works directly on the walls to represent the cycle of life. I bought a book on the life and major works of this artist as I was so drawn (excuse the pun) to his incredible art. The following is paraphrased from this book (which as you will soon see, must have been translated from the original German and there are some interesting phrases).
This painting, like the other three done in 1924, was so counter to how Christ the Redeemer was portrayed in art that the Vatican ordered that additional robes or clothes be painted on. The artist refused and the Congregation of the Holy Office in Rome issued an interdict on the May 6, 1926, forbidding services to be held in the War Memorial Chapel. This was only removed in the late 1980s. The artist died on November 4, 1926 having moved away to Italy. He was buried, on his wishes, in the War Memorial Chapel that he labored on just a year earlier.
I found my visit to this memorial, with then a nearby cemetery with rows of tombstones for veterans killed in WWI, to be a really poignant reminder of the human side of war, and especially as expressed through art. For an artist from Tyrol, no doubt expressing his feeling that allied governments were carving up the lands that the fallen had fought over, to then receive a rebuking from the Church authorities adds another layer of meaning.
Cemetery for local men killed in WWI.
I returned the key and carried on wandering through a forest beside the rushing waters of the Isel River. I was heading for castle situated slightly west of town.
Originally built in the 12th century as a defensive stronghold, the castle was altered and extended on several occasions to become an official administrative seat in which the Counts of Gorizia and subsequently the Barons of Wolkenstein-Rodenegg resided. The oldest parts of the castle, the keep, the residential wing on the south side, and the halls on the north side are all protected by a curtain wall. The two-story Schlosskapelle (castle chapel) was amazing – built towards the end of the 13th century and furbished with a rib vault ceiling and then an incredible stained-glass bay window added in the middle of the 15th century.
Stained glass window from the castle.
The castle passed into the possession of the City of Leinz in 1943 and now houses the municipal museum, a regional art museum, and the Albin Egger-Lienz gallery. The art gallery had a fascinating exhibition titled: "The Image of Man in Austria 1918 – 1938." This was a fascinating, profound, and slightly disturbing collection of art. I have found my mind returning to some of these paintings as my travels through Europe has progressed. I guess that is the beauty of art – it leaves you moved. Here is a little blurb on what I saw from the exhibition website.
The years 1918-1938 are three decades of great upheavals and disruptions for Austrians – and this is captured in art from this period. Many of the artists exhibited were born and grew up in the vast Austro-Hungarian Empire; some of them had first-hand experience of WWI; then came the breakup of the multi-ethnic state and the foundation of the First Republic with the final absorption into the Third Reich. This exhibition features over 100 masterpieces of Austrian interwar painting including works by Albin Egger-Lienz, Oskar Kokoschka, Herbert Boeckl, Anton Kolig, Anton Faistauer, Frenaz Wiegele, Erika Giovanna Klien, My Ullmann, Carry Hauser, Max Oppenheimer, Anton Mahringer, Rudolf Wacker, Franz Sedlacek, Otto Rudolf Schatz, Sergius Pauser, Herbert Reyl-Hanisch and Werner Berg, among others. The works depict the extremely heterogeneous image of man in that epoch – in between insecurity, the fear for one's existence, the escape from reality, and finally the spirit of hope and optimism going into the modern age. Items on loan are from the Leopold Museum in Vienna, the Vienna Museum, the Art Collection of the Austrian National Bank, the provincial museums of Vorarlberg, Tyrol, Salzburg, and Lower Austria and particularly from private collections at home and abroad.
What a treat to get to see more work by Albin Egger-Lienz. As you can guess by now, I was really taken by him so here is a little more on his life.
Albin Egger Trojer was an Austrian painter born in Lienz, in what was the county of Tyrol on 29 January 1868 [what a great day for a birthday - no wonder I like his work]. His father was a church painter and photographer. His mother a farm worker. He was raised by his father and step-mother in Lienz (not until he is 27 does he met his birth mother). He adopts Lienz as his last name in the 1890s. He trained first under his father, then later he studied at the Academy in Munich where he was influenced by Franz Defregger and the French painter Jean-François Millet. [You will clearly see this influence in the Sower and Devil painting I showed earlier.]. In 1899 he moved to Vienna and spent the next decade making several attempts to obtain a professorship at the prestigious Vienna Academy of Art although each time his application is rejected. He continues to produce work, often during his summers spent in Leinz, that attracts an ever wider appreciative audience. In 1910 he makes one final attempt to gain admission as a faculty member to the Academy but this too fails due to the objections of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the heir to the throne. This causes vehement public reaction over the royal influence on the process [not sure if you would call this justice – but in 1914 the Archduke was assassinated in Sarajevo by a Serbian nationalist. This event triggers World War One]. The following year he is offered a position as professor at the Weimar School of Fine Arts and he spends the next years teaching there. Then in 1915 he is called up for service in the war spending almost a year on the frontlines. He then works as a civilian war painter during most of remaining time of World War I. With the end of the war he is now offered a professorship at the Viennese Academy of Art – but declines their offer. As his reputation grows following major exhibitions throughout Europe he is again offered a highly paid position at the Academy in 1925 – and he again refuses. He gets the commission for the St. Andrew's War Memorial Chapel in Leinz the same year and upon finishing moves to settle in the South Tyrol (in province of Bolzano-Bozen). When asked what he was working on shortly before he died, the artist bluntly replied 'Ich bin fertig' (I have finished). Perhaps a little too prophetic as shortly afterwards dies of pneumonia on 4 November 1926. He work is usually characterized for the preference shown for the rustic genre and historical paintings, often of the plight of soldiers and ordinary people during war.
Albin Egger-Lienz, Kriegsfrauen/Women of War.
What a fascinating life story. I feel that travel is all about exploring and learning new things. A morning in a wonderful church and then a castle both with the works of an interesting artists certainly provided me with an unexpected discovery and much new learning. I kind of like his reaction to the rejection then offers from the Vienna Academy. Perhaps too prideful but an interesting response to rejection all the same. Today the city of Leinz sure is proud to call him their favored son with many of his pictures including an often reproduced self-portrait for sale as postcards and posters in most of the downtown shops. Talking of downtown – it was here where I headed to next. It was about an hour walk back into town. I grabbed a drink from a gas station about halfway and was amazed to see one product on the shelves supposedly containing cannabis. I went for more appropriately named beverage for person from New Zealand: "Bravo Kiwi".
I walked by an interesting advertisement on a bus shelter. I'm hoping one of you reading this who speaks German can help me understand what it says.
I had a wonderfully informative map of this historic downtown area so I can tell you I passed by three interesting buildings (well actually a lot more but I've just selected three to share with you).
I now left Leinz having spent 24 hours enjoying every minute of what this unexpected delight had to offer. More delights were shortly in store as I headed up the twisting narrow Highway B107 into Hohe Tauern National Park. For readers familiar with US or New Zealand's National Parks this place is a little different. It was not until 1971 that the three provinces of Carinthia, Salzburg, and Tyrol agreed to the creation of a national park (additional chunks were added in 1981 and 1991 now making it the largest national park in Europe). Entire villages are inside the park and almost all the land inside park boundaries is privately owned. Given the size (1,800 square kilometers) this makes this type of nature reserve somewhat unique in the world. Much of the land is alpine – in fact despite significant global warming caused reductions a total of 180 square kilometers (or 10% of the park's total area) is still covered by glacial ice today. And it is home to over 300 peaks above 3,000 meters.
It was the tallest of them all, Großglockner (pronounced Gross-glock-ner) that brought me first to the incredible (breathtakingly so) town of Heiligenblunt. On the way I stopped to visit an impressive waterfall.
As a result I got there just too late (by 3 minutes) to visit the National Park Office that handles climbing. So I searched out a place to spend the night. I found a farm house on the edge of town down in the valley with a small flag saying "Zimmer Frie" (rooms free). I've stayed at quite a few places like this as the price is usually great and it is wonderful to get a glimpse of local houses rather than being in a bland hotel or motel. The place was run by a woman, I'm guessing in her 50s, and her elderly mother. The daughter did not speak English, so room price negation was done with finger counting and then holding my hand for a tour of the house to show me where the toilet and shower were located. Then the mother arrived home and she spoke really good old fashioned Queen's English so we had a delightful conversation with translation of some of it to her daughter – it was fun.
My wonderful place to stay.
Next morning I headed to the National Park Information Center where the young woman working was able to take down my information so she could try and locate a guide. Mountain guides work differently than in the US and New Zealand (where they work for a company and you make contact with the company to organize a climbing trip). In Europe guides are independent contractors working for themselves. They pay an annual fee to various visitor and tourist information centers. They are supposed to check in regularly to say they are available, but most times the centers, upon an inquiry from a potential client, start calling around to see who is willing and able to go. She asked for my mobile number – but I don't have one prompting a late afternoon return visit to discover if she had been successful. I have to say that I planned to get a mobile phone for this trip once I arrived in France. But other than the odd occasion I have not really needed one. I also have to say that at first I really missed my old cell phone (during the early days of this trip I even pulled over thinking I could hear it ringing) but now feel liberated that I've broken away from that expensive T-Mobile device that keep me on a tether much of the past three years.
I immediately paid a visit to the most iconic building of this alpine village – the church with the needle spire with the Großglockner peak looming behind - talk about a picture postcard view.
Heiligenblut (meaning holy blood) is a small village in the heart of the Hohe Tauern National Park situated at 1,288 meters, directly beneath Großglockner. Once a gold mining area, as far back as the Middle Ages, it is now essentially a tourism economy and base for nearby ski resorts. It is also the southern starting point of the scenic Großglockner Hochalpenstraße road.
"Downtown" Heiligenblut.
The Gothic pilgrimage church of Saint Vinzenz, with its incredibly unique spire, was built between 1460-1491. There are many versions of how the town received its name and whose blood is housed in the church (some sources I saw say it is glass vial of Christ’s blood). But the following, copied blatantly from this website, seems to parallel the most commonly told version.
A picture depicting Jesus Christ miraculously started to bleed after it had been stabbed by a non believer. Some of the blood was collected in a small glass bottle and this had come into the possession of the Emperor of Constantinople. One of the Emperor’s generals was a very successful Danish soldier called Briccius and after many years of faithful service he became homesick and was released from the Emperor’s service. He was allowed to take the glass bottle of Christ’s blood with him as a reward, but as it was such an important religious relic the Emperor ambushed Briccius and his brothers just outside the city walls. The ambush failed, but for safety Briccius decided to hide the bottle in a gash he made in his calf. Then, with the wound covered in dirt and blood and dressed as pilgrims, he and his brothers managed to reach Carinthia (in Austria) safely but they separated somewhere near Sachensburg. Briccius headed on into the Alps but was caught in an avalanche one stormy night and died.
When the mountain farmers climbed up to collect their hay on sledges before Christmas, as was the custom in this region of Austria, they found three beautiful green strands of grass sprouting out of the snow. Astounded by this incomprehensible event they dug down through the snow and soon uncovered the body of Briccius, whom they immediately assumed was a holy man as the grass was growing from his heart. They knew they had to bury him but didn’t know where, so they loaded the corpse onto a wagon pulled by two unbroken oxen and decided to build a church and bury the corpse where ever the oxen stopped. The church at Heiligenblut was constructed where the oxen stopped. A few days after the interment the villagers noticed that one of the corpse’s feet had emerged from the grave and after close inspection they found the little bottle containing dark fluid hidden in the flesh. If you visit the church in Heiligenblut you will find the little glass bottle displayed on top of a high pillar and in the centre of the church a set of stairs that lead down to the burial vault where St. Briccius lies in his tomb.
Offering candles inside the church.
Regardless of the actual events leading to the construction of this magnificent building, the location of the church is truly spectacular. I now headed up the amazing Großglockner Hochalpenstraße road. This north/south route over the Alps has been used for over 4,000 years as archaeological finds such as pre-Celtic bronze knives, Celtic gold jewelry, a Roman statue, medieval pack-animal bridles, and the chains from galley slaves dating from the 17th century attest. In 1924 the idea was put forward to turn the route into a tourist attraction. Initially started by entrepreneurs with the goal of building “a road that would technically surpass all other alpine roads.” The Austrian engineer Franz Wallack, from Salzburg was commissioned to undertake the construction of a three-meter wide gravel surfaced road that would have passing points within sight of each other, and a maximum gradient of 12%. Due to lack of funding the project didn’t proceed beyond the draft stage until the Austrian Government resurrected the scheme as a means of employing some of the half million people who had become unemployed during the Great Depression. In 1931 the Grossglockner High Alpine Road Company was founded and construction proceeded rapidly. The road which was officially opened on 3 August 1935 as a toll road, is only 47.8 kilometers (29 miles) long and climbs from the cornfields at Fusch (805 meters/2,641 feet above sea level) at the northern end, up to the ice fields at Hochtor (2,504 meters/8,215 feet) before descending southwards to Heiligenblut (1,301 meters/4,268 feet). During the 26 months of construction 870,000 cubic meters of earth and rock were moved, 15,750 cubic meters of retaining wall created, and 67 bridges major bridges were built. Over 3,200 men were employed on the works and the use of machinery was limited to increase the numbers of workers who could have a job. When it was originally conceived it was expected that the road would attract about 40,000 visitors a year. The much modernized highway now carries in excess of 1,000,000 million visitors a year.
Never seen a road sign warning for marmots before!
It is quite a magnificent road – although expensive at € 28,00. ($42 US) and only open during daylight hours. A spur road branches off towards Kaiser-Franz Josef's Höhe. Both the scenery and also tourism infrastructure of this place were a sight to see. A massive multi-storied parking garage greets you.
High density tourism in the high Alps.
This was followed by the usual barrage of souvenir shops, café’s, and restaurants. Although, I have to say that my unhealthy, but very Austrian, lunch with a view was most memorable.
Lunch.
An opera singing marmot? Exhibit at nature center.
Again, being a somewhat unique park from an administrative perspective I found it interesting that the National Park Authority had to rely on corporate sponsorship for their visitor center. I had an interesting and enjoyable chat with the ranger on both climbing and the local animals.
Nearby a statue commemorating the 1856 visit (which lead to the naming of the place) of Kaiser Franz Joseph I – Austria’s last Emperor. Interestingly, one of the most visited glaciers in New Zealand is also named for this same man (although he never visited that one).
While the peaks, dominated by Grossglockner, tend to catch your eye it is also the Pasterze Glacier that makes this place special. At approximately 8.4 km (5.2 miles) in length, it is the longest glacier in Austria and in the Eastern Alps reaching from the 3,453 m (11,330 foot) Johannisberg mountain coming down to 2,100 m (6,890 ft) above sea level. The length of the glacier currently decreases about 10 m (33 feet) each year. Its volume diminished by half since the first measurements in 1851.
Interpretive panel showing glacier in 1875.
My photo taken from the same spot - September 2009.
Thinking there might be a possibility I could be climbing the mountain in the next day or two I decided to go for a hike (more acclimatizing at altitude would help). I followed what was essentially a road through a series of tunnels then up the side of the valley above the glacier. I have so many photos from this hike it is a little ridiculous – but the views were simply incredible.
Better to walk on the right I guess!
I returned to Heilgenblut to discover that there was a guide available. They called him for me on his mobile phone and we chatted briefly (while he was high on a mountain elsewhere in the country). His name was Marcus and he asked a lot of questions about other peaks I’d climbed and what gear I had with me. We talked briefly about the weather forecast and agreed to try the peak not from the usual Heilgenblut side but rather from the village of Kals. So all my photos and looking at the route from this side would be no help – still what an incredible day. He said to meet him early Monday morning at the Stuedl Hut and I was told to do the 4-5 hour approach hike on Sunday. It being Wednesday I had to decide what to do for a few days – hence the decision to go to Slovenia (see previous blog posting). I’ll pick up the story of my climb with Marcus on Grossglockner in the next post.
