One of my favourite places in the world is undoubtedly the tiny village of Grundlsee, located next door to Bad Aussee in Austria. We’ve stayed at the Mondi Holiday Hotel twice now, both times during winter, when snow coats the undulating hills and an alluring peace presides. There’s something special about snow – when everything is coated in soft white powder and the smell of glühwein hangs in the air – it’s Christmas personified and it gives you this feeling of joy deep in the pit of your stomach.
Mondi is quite a big self-catering resort situated right on Lake Grundlsee – you walk out of your door in the morning and the first sight that greets you is the periwinkle watery expanse, lightly dusted in ice and reflecting the patchwork facade of the surrounding mountains. The air is crisp and you can watch your breath as it mists around you, making you thrust your cold fingers further into your pockets. As you walk along the lake, you encounter myriad old-fashioned buildings and time itself seems to slow down. People wave and smile and opportunistic swans and ducks glide right up to you, hinting for any tasty morsels you may have to spare.
This time, the weather was strange and the snow was slow to arrive. It rained incessantly for the first few days, but that didn’t stop us from exploring. On one of the days, I dragged everyone out to the Cumberland Wildlife Park, which must be a hive of activity in summer, but in winter, all of its residents embark on their long, peaceful slumber and the reserve feels eerily deserted. We made friends with a very perky pine marten who was extremely pleased to have some company and then we fed a few donkeys, watched the wolves, gazed at the bear enclosure hoping that its occupant would decide to awaken from his nap and admired a rather gallant looking mandarin duck.
Swan on the water
The first time we visited Grundlsee, Greg and I went wandering around the quaint town of Bad Aussee, stopping for hot chocolate and a tasty pastry in one of the quirky restaurants and popping into various endearingly eccentric shops in search of curios to take home. I have a thing for antique shops, so couldn’t resist stepping into a rather old-fashioned little store on the outskirts of the town. It looked like it was straight out of a book – dusty antiques lying everywhere and the smell of history in the air. As we were browsing, the owner of the store came up to us and asked us where we were from. Upon hearing that we came from South Africa, his whole face lit up – a self-professed connoisseur, he waxed lyrical about the virtues of our viticulture and warmly invited us to the back of the shop for a drink.
A lonely tree
There, we met his beautiful wife, he cracked open the first bottle of wine and we started chatting. It turns out that they spend half of their year in the tiny town of Bad Aussee and the other half adventuring and seeing the world. Five bottles of wine later, (more than a bottle each) we were the best of friends and the wonderful shop owner kept smiling, singing and telling me to stop taking life and myself so seriously. Some of the best advice I’ve ever received. By this point I could barely stand up and was grinning from ear to ear – I remember feeling overwhelmingly happy and content and thinking that all was right with the world. I was so drunk at this point, I didn’t even have the foresight to ask our beautiful hosts for their details and to this day, one of my biggest regrets is the fact that I can’t remember their names. Many a hug and warm handshake later and I was tripping out the door, swaying down the street and skipping into the nearest store, where I spent countless minutes gazing fondly at a fondue pack.
This was one of the most wonderful, memorable travel moments that I have ever experienced. It was unexpected, unplanned and just totally beautiful. They were some of the warmest, most generous people that I have ever met and I don’t think they will ever quite know how much they impacted on my life. It’s a story I will tell my grandchildren one day and it’s something that reinforces my belief that the small gestures that you make for other people, have big ramifications.
