Well, Readers, they do say that discretion is the better part of valour, so when we awoke this morning after a night of torrential rain, and saw that there was snow on the high peaks around the village, we decided that a challenging downhill walk from the Timmelsjoch Pass probably wasn’t the best idea (though we’re very hopeful that we’ll be able to do it tomorrow). So, instead, we decided to try a new lift that we’d never tried before – the Kirchenkarbahn. It takes you up to 2,800 metres in two stages, and there’s a very nice cafe and the Motorcycle Museum at the bottom, so it seemed worth a go.

To get to the Lift and the Museum, you have to pile onto the Timmelsjoch bus (which is always full of walkers, regardless of the time) and squeeze past various road-resurfacing vehicles who are coming around the hairpins as you try to make your way up. Then you sit around for ten minutes waiting for the caff to open. It was worth it to see the clouds burning off and the sun coming out, though – last time we came, in 2023, it was sunny but a bit too hot, whereas this year the weather has been at perfect walking temperature but the sun’s been in short supply. You can’t have everything!

Well, it all seems very civilised as you make your way up on the lift, but when you get to the top it’s pretty impressive. Blimey, as my Dad would have said. You can walk along that icy path to the left, but I have quite enough titanium in my body for one lifetime, thank you, much as I’d like to be airlifted off the mountain by a strapping Austrian paramedic.

You would think that, by now, I’d be used to the temperature difference between a warm car park and the top of a mountain, but it still sometimes takes me by surprise (though I always have hats, gloves, multiple layers etc). And up here, it was windy and cold enough to take your breath away (more about the wind later).

On the way down, our gondola stopped at just the trickiest, highest point. This often happens, but it hadn’t happened previously on this trip, and I always find it disconcerting, as you dangle there with the wind whistling around this little glass and metal tin, suspended from what looks, at closer inspection, like something someone might have crocheted. After about five minutes we lurched back into action – normally it’s because someone needs a bit of extra time boarding the gondola, or because they’re loading supplies, but it can be because it’s getting too windy. Apparently, wind speeds of over 50 m.p.h, can be enough to close a lift (and if you look closely all lifts have a wind speed device), but so can particularly gusty weather. It was good to be back on the ground.

We took the bust back to Obergurgl, where we were decanted at the far end of the village because the preparations for the Glacier Run are well underway. Apparently eight rooms are taken at our hotel for tonight and Friday – this will be a shock as we’ve practically had the place to ourselves, but of course it’s great for the owners of the hotel to have some other guests, charming as we are. Next to the Gurgl Carat (the town hall) the stage is set up for announcements and no doubt some music, the finishing line is being installed with all the usual electronics showing the time, and there is a notable buzz about the village.

We decide to go up to the Hohe Mut Alm (a very nice salad was had yesterday, and as Austrian cuisine has a bit of a lack of raw vegetables this was a welcome change). However, the wind had closed the top lift, which was a shame and a surprise. I guess the cold front that brought the snow has bashed into the warm front that expected to raise the temperature into the sixties (Fahrenheit of course) tomorrow, and it’s gotten gusty as a result. Never mind. The mountains are nothing if not volatile, which is maybe why I love them so much.