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Posts tagged ‘Oberstdorf’

Allgäu winter: Fellhorn in the German-Austrian Alps

Above: A group of skiers gather before their run near the Fellhorn summit.

As a product of the Canadian southwest, I’ve maintained a fascination with mountains. I don’t necessarily need to climb the mountains, but I’ve always been curious about the names of mountains, the reasons for their names, and the people who named them. I’m not always going to get answers, but if there’s a lift to take me to a view, I’m always game.

With an easy bus from Oberstdorf in the southwest corner of Germany, I’m headed 10 km south to Faistenoy for the gondola up to the summit of Fellhorn (2038 metres) among the Allgäu Alps. There’s a lot of snow up top with a depth of about 1.5 metres; skiing and snowboarding conditions look good in the Skigebiet Fellhorn-Kanzelwand (Fellhorn-Kanzelwand Ski Area). But what do I know? I don’t ski or snowboard, but the winter-afternoon light is decent on the smooth snowy landscape. I’m drawn to the information displays to learn more about Fellhorn and the mountains I’m seeing in the near 360-degree panorama. In the distance the flat-topped Hoher Ifen mountain looks like a multiple-layer cream-filled cake. I arrive quickly at a couple of conclusions: one, it’s fun to stand on a border between two countries at altitude, even if an international frontier is set somewhat arbitrarily; and two, I promise to return in the summertime to do a loop: return to Fellhorn, hike along the relatively flat ridge-line west, take the Kanzelwandbahn gondola down into Austria’s Kleinwalsertal, have a sip and nosh in one of the alpine towns, and return to Germany’s Oberstdorf on a local bus.

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Oberstdorf, Oberbayern, Upper Bavaria, Bavaria, Allgaeu Alps, Alps, Germany, fotoeins.com

Oberstdorf: Sunday Allgäu night auf Deutsch

Why multiple languages rock my world

With fewer than ten-thousand inhabitants, Oberstdorf in southern Bavaria is as its German name suggests: an “upper village” tucked in the Allgäu Alps near the German-Austrian border. Yet, the town feels busy and full with skiers, snowboarders, and winter hikers.

It’s Sunday night and I’m on the hunt for “schnitzel and spätzle.” With my eye already on a place, I arrive at 630pm to a full house. I don’t have a reservation (which is dumb in a small town), but a table of four is available (which is fortunate). The server offers me the table, with the condition I’ll be sharing the table if two people want places. “Alles klar,” I reply.

I order a standard half-litre Weizen beer, along with the required schnitzel-and-spätzle platter. An elderly couple is offered two places at my table; they take one glance in my direction, and they’re gone. The server wears a puzzled look, and I can only shrug. A second couple arrives ten minutes later, and as they approach my table with curiosity, I tell them “die Plätze sind noch frei” (the places are available). They express their thanks, and take their seats across from me. Those last five German words set a positive tone for the rest of the evening.

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