One of the meadows at Heartwood

Dear Readers, I was pining for the Alpine meadows of Obergurgl today, and so I was whisked off by my friend L to visit the largest new native forest in England. Heartwood is close to St Albans, and, at 858 hectares of woodland and meadow it represents an important habitat for all sorts of plants and animals. There is true ancient woodland here, including a bluebell wood, but over 600,000 new native trees have also been planted by the Woodland Trust’s army of volunteers. It is a magical place, and the meadows were expansive and varied – maybe not quite as varied as an Alpine meadow, but still absolutely full of life. 

On the way to Heartwood we passed through some fields full of horses, including one which was role-playing as a zebra, two who were grooming one another, and one magnificent heavy horse.

Then it was back to skipping through the flowers, while L stopped to say hello to many, many dogs. I told her that she should have a teeshirt with ‘dog-deprived’ on the front.

The weather was supposed to be dreadful today, but instead the sun shone, and the crickets sang.

And here was a real treat – a stand of Chicory. It is the most extraordinary shade of lavender-blue.

The variety of pollinators on the Creeping Thistle was extraordinary, with lots of different fly and bee species, and a lot of ladybirds, including some native Seven-Spot Ladybirds.

And look at the size of this queen bumblebee, she was about the size of a thumb-joint.

I really love Wild Carrot (Daucus carota) – it seems to also attract a wide range of pollinators, including the ‘bonking beetle’, though there was no bonking going on today.

Lots of the young trees are now full of berries, including these lovely Rowan.

And here’s the path into the new wood…

Lots of butterflies about today, including this Ringlet (Aphantopus hyperantus). This is a grassland butterfly, but it was taking a little break on the oak leaves.

Then, back past the horses…

…and past a barn where Barn Swallows were nesting. House Martins were also flittering about, and a lady in a wheelchair was watching them, enjoying the sunshine and the birds.

And then it was time for lunch at the Heartwood Café (highly recommended), and a leisurely 40 minute drive back to East Finchley. I had no idea that such riches were so close at hand – it goes to show how important it is to go on an expedition every so often, just to see what’s happening. And it also goes to show the sheer variety of animals and plants that will turn up if we recreate the right conditions for them.

Well, Readers, we managed to avoid all the storms yesterday, much to my surprise – I was fully expecting to be stuck in Innsbruck for hours while we waited for the thunder and lightning to dissipate over Gatwick Airport, but in fact we arrived only ten minutes late. What a muggy, clammy afternoon it was, after the crisp mountain air! But today it actually feels a bit better, and as I look out of the window I can see the Buddleia in full flower, a sure sign that we’ve reached the middle of summer.

My lovely neighbour has been watering the pots and windowboxes in the front garden, and they’re looking very lush and green. I know I should probably weed the box in the photo above, but I rather like the combination of Mexican Fleabane, Herb Robert, Delosperma and grass, so there you go.

I have all sorts of plants just popping up – I thought this was Purple Toadflax, but the colour is wrong. Still, the Common Carder Bumblebee seemed to like it. There’s a whole lot of self-seeding going on!

The Hyssop is doing very well, and providing a bit of late summer nectar for the bees.

And the Hylotelephium (or Sedum as was) is just starting to change colour.

Some Scabious have self-seeded into a spare pot, along with the Purple Toadflax etc etc, and very delicate it is too…

The back garden is a positive jungle. I have a rather lovely magenta Buddleia there, but the insects still prefer the ‘wild’ version at the front, maybe because it gets more sun.

And the Purple Loosestrife is in flower, and is actually vertical for once (a bit like me :-)) while the Hemp Agrimony is literally taller than I am.

And so, as always, it’s nice to be home.

First Orchids of the trip…

Dear Readers, I may well be home too late tomorrow to blog, so here are some of my favourite photos from Obergurgl and around…

The Hohe Mut Alm

Alsike clover (Trifolium hybridum)

Martagon Lily (Lilium martagon)

Mother Marmot

Baby Marmot

Italian Sheep

Black Vanilla Orchid

Alpine Gentian

Newly fledged Kestrel

Vivaparous Lizards

Fledgling Kestrel

Creme Brulee – doused in Kirsch and set on fire!

Rosy Chafers on Spiniest Thistle

At the Kirchenkarbahn

Cake at the Sahnestuberl!

Looking back along the Timmelsjoch

Dear Readers, the walk back down from the Timmelsjoch is the biggest challenge of this holiday. It links the Passeirtal and Oztal valleys, and has been used as a trading route for as long as people have lived in this area (possibly as far back as 6300 BCE). However, today the trick is to jump onto a 320 bus, let it take you to the top, and then head back down, culminating at the Sahnestuberl. The Timmelsjoch is at 2509 metres, and the Sahnestuberl is at 1650 metres, so that’s nearly 1000 metres of downhill. Quite the challenge for my legs and feet, but I’ve grown in confidence on the tricky rocky/boggy paths this holiday, so I was nervous but up for it.

Looking back along the path

And what a glorious day it was! Cool but sunny, and as we’d caught the 8.40 bus it was fairly quiet, and we even grabbed a quick cappuccino at the Rasthaus Timmelsjoch. And then off we went. The climb felt relentless, but on the trickiest bits my husband went in front so I had a helpful shoulder to steady me. Of course, this could have led to the pair of us sliding down, but as luck would have it we both stayed more or less vertical.

The Rasthaus, Timmelsjoch

You’ll see that there aren’t many photos on this blog – I didn’t want my camera dangling while I was concentrating on the downhill. But it is the loveliest walk, from the scree slopes high up to the meadows beside the river, and then the woods above the Sahnestuberl.

A little boggy stream

When we get to the Smuggler’s Exhibition, we know that we’re about half way through the walk, so it’s time to find a handy rock and munch on a banana. Though today, some people had already got to the bench.

The Smugglers Exhibition

By the time we got into the woods, my legs were feeling decidedly tired, but there were lots of Nutcrackers calling (they’re a kind of jay), and every so often we’d get a good view of one. The last quarter of a mile is relentlessly downhill, over slippery tree roots, but by now I could hear the call of the cake – the Sahnestuberl is renowned for its ‘cake of the day’.

Finally we collapsed onto a bench, and got stuck into an Almdudler, followed by a tea…

And today’s offering was peach, with a creme fraiche filling (it wasn’t as sweet as it looks) 🙂

And although the restaurant seems to have new, young staff, it still has a cat, who lounges under the benches like the queen/king that s/he is…

And so it’s home, and packing, and prep for our flight home tomorrow. Tonight the Obergurgl Glacier Run takes place, with people starting off at 2 a.m. to run 62km along some of the tricky paths that we have gingerly crawled along during this past fortnight. Good luck to them all!

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.

Dear Readers, when it’s a wet, misty day where visibility is at a premium, we always seem to find somewhere high up so we can gaze out into the clouds and see approximately nothing. And so it was that today we decided to take a trip to the Tiefenbach Glacier, on the second- highest paved road in Europe (2,830 metres at its highest point). The highest, in case you’re interested, is the Veleta, which is a dead end road to Granada in Spain. Hah! This road has numerous hair-pin bends and practically no barriers, so there is a lot of tooth-gritting involved if you’re sitting on the right-hand side.

And look at this tiny chapel! This is the Saint Bernhard Chapel, situated next to the Rettenbach Glacier. When I first visited Obergurgl back in 1997, there was a single-person chair lift that operated above this glacier, and I remember it being a spectacular though terrifying ride. These days, the Rettenbach gondola is open in August, and the Tieffenbach gondola is open in July, so on we went.

St Bernhard Chapel

Rettenbach Glacier

You then travel through the highest mountain tunnel in Europe and emerge onto, well, a car park. With an ancient lift system crossing some exhausted-looking ski slopes.

In the tunnel…..

There are a whole bunch of solar panels (though not much sun around today), a cafe in the round building to the left, and to the right there’s some ice with a blanket over it – there’s a lot of ‘ice duvets’ on the slopes up here. 

The gondolas here are of the old-fashioned kind where it’s easy to brain yourself, as indeed I did on the way back down. They are also the slowest gondolas in the whole of the Oetzal Valley. But it’s all an adventure, so off we pop….

When we’re near the top the wind starts to blow a hooley (as my Scottish pal would say), and there’s a lot of groaning, both from the lift and from me. My husband is much more copacetic. When we get out we can’t see anything below us, and the gondolas just disappear into the mist.

I take a few steps and nearly get blown over, whereas my husband goes out onto the viewing platform, shown below when we here in much warmer conditions in 2023 – Readers, I can’t even see the blooming thing. I wonder if he’ll get blown off and I’ll never see him again.

The viewing platform in better conditions

But somehow he survives, and back down we go, missing the 11.35 bus by exactly 30 seconds. Not that I’m bitter.

Anyhow, a cup of tea in the round hutty thing (called ‘Snow Beach’ in case you’re ever at the Tieffenbach Glacier) and then it’s the midday bus and back down to Solden.

Once we’re down, we hot-foot it off to the Öetzal Bäck in Solden. I had promised a photo of the baked goods, but they are particular about people taking photos of their cakes, so here are two that I sneaked. Highly, highly recommended.

The weather is supposed to improve for our last two days, and so tomorrow, if all goes well, we will be off to the Timmelsjoch Pass (a mere 2474 metres high, pah) and we will walk down to the Sahnestuberl for yet more cake (and probably to apply some Compeeds to our blisters). Wish us luck!

Snow Blowers

Dear Readers, of all the walks that we do on this holiday (or at least were likely to do this time), this seemingly gentle little walk from the Hochgurgl Middle Station back to Obergurgl is the one that makes me most nervous. There is a tremendous amount of downhill, much of it on rocky, dodgy paths, and so it is one of those trips where I hope I won’t trip. However, I remind myself that most of my recent falls have been domestic ones – falling down stairs, tripping over a kerb – rather than on uneven ground where I have to concentrate on my balance. I find that literally lowering my concentration from my head to somewhere around my belly button usually helps.

Onwards!

We pass the row of snowblowers that always greet us on this walk – I’ve never been here in winter, but I assume that they redistribute the snow for all those eager skiers.

And some things never change – this guy has been here for at least twenty years, and very menacing he looks too.

We pass though ‘the boggy bit’, which this year has been pretty much dried up following the very warm spell before we got here.

There are lots of ‘baby’ Arolla pine trees here, planted by Nutcrackers, the local corvids – they act to spread the forest by planting pine kernels for future eating, in much the same way as jays spread acorns, and hence help to ‘plant’ oak forests

We come to a very dodgy downhill bit, so I stop to take a picture of this lovely Bearded Bellflower (Campanula barbata). It’s only when i get home that I realise that there’s a Black Vanilla Orchid in the background (the little purple guy)

On we go….

If we carried on we’d enter the Konigsjoch, one of those valleys which involves a relentless climb. We’ve done it in previous years when there have been snow patches, and finding the path can be treacherous. There’s an old customs hut at the top, where smugglers from Italy used to sneak past (and no doubt smugglers from Austria in the opposite direction). But it feels a bit too much for this trip, so we start looking for the planks of wood that enable us to cross the river and get to the other side. One year they were washed away in a storm. That was fun. But this year, the bridge is in place, and so we are soon safely on the other side.

Now it’s a long and relentless downhill back to Obergurgl, via the forest. We stop for a banana and some water, and I notice this lovely lemon-yellow plant, emerging from under a dead pine tree. This is Alpine Hawkweed (Hieracium alpinum), and I love how furry the buds and leaves are, maybe as a protection against the harsh climate.

And if you look closely at the heads of this Spiniest Thistle (Cirsium spinosissimum) you’ll see that it’s home to several big fat Rose Chafer Beetles. Such a treat! I love how they’re all tucked up in the middle of the thistle flower. This is a truly ugly plant (to my eyes) but it attracts a whole lot of unconventional pollinators.

We head on through the forest, past some larch trees…

…and we are almost at the bottom when we are accosted by goats. We had a similar incident back in 2023, but this year the whole herd was laying across a path up to a bridge that we wanted to cross. I started to move through them, but they thought we were driving them, so instead of letting us walk through they started to climb ahead of us. Then the Billy, who was possessed of very impressive horns, started to eat my jacket and give me a tentative nudge, as if seeing how much I’d put up with. Well, readers, we decided that discretion was the better part of valour – as I’d been keeping vertical for all this time, it seemed impetuous to allow myself to be butted into the undergrowth so close to home. So, we reversed engines to take an alternative, more boring path, only to have the goats follow us excitedly for a couple of hundred metres.

They really are very fine animals, but an 89 year-old lady who was here last week, and who was walking on her own, was nearly knocked over by these guys. I’m not sure what the answer is, but it’s good to be aware.

All the way along the path we’d been seeing signs for the Glacier Trail Run, which starts this Friday and involves up to 900 keen runners taking on the mountains and paths around Obergurgl. The most extreme race starts at 2 a.m. on Saturday, and involves a run of 62km. Yikes! From Thursday we’ll have a longer walk to catch any bus that we want to get, but it will really change this sleepy valley for a few days. Very exciting! Though I’m glad we’re walking these paths now, and not after 900 pairs of spiked running shoes have thundered through the Alpenroses.

And finally, up in the lift to the Hohe Mut, for an Almdudler. I’m sure this would really take off if it was marketed in the UK, it’s just the thing after a long walk.

And a couple were getting married at the Hut – you can have one of the chairlift gondolas covered in lace and draped with roses for your ascent. This couple (she in white, he in a very fine pale green suit) stopped for photos on the saddle of the Hohe Mut. I loved that they had their dog with them too.

Dear Readers, with a rainy, stormy day forecast we decided to take things easy today, but we were treated to some lovely views of one of the fledgling kestrels this morning. Apparently one of the youngsters landed on the hotel owner’s car yesterday, and only flew off when she started the engine. The parents seem to be spending less and less time with the fledglings, so they’ll probably soon be off, hunting for their own food.

Before we got the bus, we had a quick trot around the meadow, just to keep the leg muscles in working order, and I was very impressed by the sheer variety of flying insects on the Melancholy Thistles – flies, bumblebees and all manner of bugs and beetles turn up on them. I’m still waiting for my first Rose Chafer Beetle, but fingers crossed one will arrive before I go home.

And then it was off down to Langenfeld, through the driving rain. First stop was the Backerei – we used to have one in Obergurgl, but it was apparently closed all last winter and is closed now. I’m heartbroken! But getting staff is a real problem everywhere, and so the nearest place for baked goods is in Solden. This place does the most delicious rolls and cakes.

And then off to admire the church, dedicated to St Katherine of Alexandria. It was originally built in 1303, but the current building dates back to 1518. It’s what I think of as a typical Oetzal Valley church – tall red spire, whitewashed walls with paintings, beautifully kept graveyard with wrought iron headstones around the outside. The tower is the tallest in the valley.

The interior is highly baroque, and rather different from the rather more austere interior of ‘our’ church in Obergurgl. Interesting there are what look like relics, but I can find nothing online to give me any details, and if there was a leaflet showing the history of the church anywhere, I must have missed it.

The church seems to be a very active one: It had a sign, in several languages, saying that it was open during all weathers, and that refreshment is available – this would have been very useful a few weeks ago when it was very hot (hah!). But our bus was on the way, and so we headed home. There’s plenty to do and see here, even when the weather isn’t good enough for ambitious walking.

Newly fledged Kestrel

Dear Readers, I have never seen as many interesting animals and plants in Obergurgl as I have this past week – it has been such a pleasure. Two kestrels nest under the eaves of the hotel, and this morning one of the fledglings (there are two) was flapping about on the balcony. I.opened the curtains a crack to see what was going on, and the kestrel took one horrified look and flew off to the roof of the hotel opposite.

There have been adult kestrels here for as long as I’ve been coming to the hotel, so since at least 2004. However, I’ve never been here at fledging time before. The two babies wait patiently for their mother to bring them some food, from behind some bird-prevention spikes, which are clearly not working, and were originally put up before the current owners took over the hotel. However, as kestrels are protected here in Austria, they can’t now disturb the birds and remove them.

Young kestrels on the nest.

Still, they will soon be off and learning to fend for themselves. It’s wonderful to see the adults quartering the grassy areas all around the village, and looking for mice. Interestingly, they seem to prefer to sit on the top of a tree rather than hover. If I can get a photo of an adult, I’ll share it with you.

In other news, the meadow was cut yesterday, and I heard a strange call early in the evening – it was a Ring Ouzel, picking up beakfuls of freshly-exposed worms and feeding them to its fledglings.

I thought I’d share a picture of the breakfast room here at the Hotel Olympia – in addition to having kestrels for entertainment, I really like that it’s retained that Tirolean ‘vibe’ without all the heavy wood that makes some hotels here feel so dark and heavy. I love the upholstery, and the curtains (and the view, of course)

Anyhow, after our long walk yesterday, and with the risk of heavy rain and thunderstorms this afternoon, we took ourselves off to Solden to do a little bit of shopping and do a bit of easy walking. And look what I found! Only two more Vivaporous Lizards. Actually there were three, but one scooted away. They look pretty pregnant to me. Could there soon be the patter of tiny lizard claws?

Anyhow, we decided to pop up the Giggijoch Lift – this was, for a long time, the poor cousin to the Gaislachkoglbahn, but it has had a serious makeover. Gone are the old-fashioned gondolas, where anyone over 5 ft 10 inches risked braining themselves every time they went in and out. It’s all very high-tech now. And the views from the top are breath-taking.

What was even more breath-taking (for me at least) was the sight of a pair of Alpine Choughs chuckling and tumbling over the lift station before disappearing over the mountains. This time, they were close enough for me to definitively identify them, and it really lifted my heart. These birds should have been here all along, it’s ideal habitat for them, but to have seen them twice makes me very happy. Fingers crossed by the end of the holiday I’ll be able to get a photo for you all. But just in case I don’t, here’s a short video of a flock of choughs in the Swiss Alps. I love the whoop at the start – that’s just what I did when I saw them yesterday.

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/Fa0eB3SV_qw

Incidentally, if you’re ever in Solden, the restaurant at the Giggijoch lift was offering homemade lemonade with a bit of grapefruit in it and some summer berries, and a tiramisu brownie. You’ve heard it here first!

Looking towards the Gaisbergferner Glacier

Dear Readers, of all the walks that we do in Obergurgl, this is the one that gives the most reward for effort – there’s a steep, steep climb up into the valley, and then obviously a steep, steep climb down on the way out. But once you’re in the valley, you walk through a lush green bog full of cotton grass and follow the path beside the rushing glacial river. There are rarely many people here, even though, at the beginning, you can see the gondolas for the Hohe Mut Alm overhead. Soon, all you can hear is rushing water and the whistling of marmots. It’s definitely worth the 135 bpm heart rate, and the aching legs!

There are still a few Alpenroses in flower here – it’s a notoriously chilly valley, the wind whistles down from the glacier, and so the plants are not quite as advanced as in other places.

There are some handy stone slabs, and the occasional wooden board, for crossing the boggy bit.

And it’s interesting how the plants also differ from the Rotmoos Valley that we were in a few days ago. There were no gentians there, but plenty in flower here. These are Alpine Gentian (Gentian nivalis), but no photo ever fully does justice to their colour, the purest blue I’ve ever seen.

The air here is so pure that it must be a lichen-lover’s delight. If only I knew a bit more about them!

And here’s a lovely thing – this is a tiny Black Vanilla Orchid (Gymnadenia rhellicani), such a sweet little plant. I nearly always find it alongside a path, quietly getting on with its life.

And this, my friends, is Alpine French Honeysuckle (Hedysarum hedysaroides), a completely new plant to me, Also known as Alpine Sanfoin, it’s not a honeysuckle at all, but a member of the Bean family (Fabaceae). Alpine meadows are absolutely full of ‘beans’, and I imagine that the fact that they ‘fix’ nitrogen in the soil is one reason for the extraordinary richness of what is otherwise a difficult habitat – short flowering season, lots of exposure, thin soils, snow cover and unpredictable amounts of water.

And while this lovely plant looks very much like our Fox and Cubs, I have a strong suspicion that it’s actually Golden Hawksbeard (Crepis aurea).

The path flattens out along by the river. In some parts it’s rocky, in others sandy, and in one place it’s quite badly eroded, which makes for a fun-packed ten seconds as we try to avoid falling into the stream.

And here’s another ‘bean’ – this is Brown Clover (Trifolium badium), though at this time of year it’s more yellow than brown.

At one point, we hear all the marmots on both sides of the valley whistling, and look up to see a flock of birds passing overhead – they look remarkably like Alpine Chough from a distance, and the way that they’re tumbling and rolling makes me think that I might be right. I’ve never seen Chough in these mountains, so maybe they’re just passing through. No photos, sadly, but here’s what they look like. Sadly, there aren’t that many botanists or ornithologists here, but I’ve just thought of one person I can ask, to see if they’ve been sighted before. Fingers crossed! They can be found all over the Alps, and are the most acrobatic and entertaining birds.

Alpine Chough (Pyrrhocorax graculus) Photo byBy D4m1en – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=67051243

Anyhow, by now it’s time for a banana and a swig of water, and a sit on a convenient stone. The glacier itself is a fair way up the valley, and we usually content ourselves with an unobstructed view. Plus, last year, as I’ve mentioned already, I didn’t think that I’d ever get here again, so I am well ‘choughed’ (see what I did there?). Plus it’s getting warm and I feel the need for a nice Almdudler.

View towards the glacier

And here’s a last new flower – this is Alpine Milk Vetch (Astrogalus alpinus), yet another ‘bean’ and a rather pretty pale lavender one at that. 

And then it’s a long trudge back down to the middle-station lift, to sit in the Pic Nic and watch the world go by before heading back for a nice hot bath. What a lovely day!