Wanderlust & "Farmer wants a wife"

Since we were eating like emperors, had spent a good many hours sitting in the car, and were in hiking territory, I thought it wise we actually go for a hike! Doesn't that make me sound quite fitness oriented?! Well, I had ulterior motives—food. 

Sure I enjoy the occasional run, or a spot of yoga, but to walk (mostly up hill) for hours on end, there's got to be a decent incentive! Like a rustic hut atop the mountain, where the old farmer serves you whatever Austrian speciality his wifey has prepared that day...hmmm...although once again, I'd say the view...

...was well worth it also!

Papa and I didn't really have a plan as to which hut we were aiming for, but we figured we'd stumble across one eventually. Naturally we got a little lost on the way, and ended up taking the extra steep route, but that didn't matter to me since I just figured I would get to eat more. 

Remaining damage from the flooding.

Kind of where we were heading. Love the arrow pointing to the ground...???

The last leg of the upward tour was the toughest. Higgeldy piggeldy across gnarly roots, we were almost at the point of crawling up the hill it was so steep. Suddenly there was a young, cow-dung covered man behind us. I figured he must have caught up with us after cleaning out the tiny stable we had just passed. Impressed by his speed we got chatting and he accompanied us to the hut, even offering to take us back to town in his car. I could already tell this disconcerted Papa somewhat, but since we were here to hike, we kindly declined and said our goodbyes. Or so we thought.

We felt like we conquered Austria.

Papa and I were sitting for no more than five minutes, when the young man returned—washed and changed—to ask whether he could sit with us. Since we only had the entire beer bench to ourselves, how could we refuse... 

We ordered, Papa the Austrian "Jausen" platter, this is meant to be a "snack" of cold meats and cheeses, but as you can see it's a pretty manly snack.

And I, being the sweet-tooth, went for the "Riesengermknoedel". A "Germknoedel" (not pronounced like the "Germ" in German!) is essentially a steamed yeast dumpling. The consistency of the dough is similar to that of steamed BBQ pork buns, the same fluffy goodness. Obviously these aren't filled with BBQ pork, but this stuff instead:

'Powidl'

In German, "Po" is a more formal term for the buttocks, so when I was little I was never very fond of trying this stuff at my grandparents house, since the colour of it is also somewhat reminiscent of something that might come out of the "Po"...

But then I learned that the word is actually Czech, and the spread itself is merely a kind of smooth, spiced plum stew. So when you puncture the (in this case) giant globule of yeasty fluff, the Powidl comes oozing out and mixes with the slightly warm vanilla sauce and sweet ground poppy seeds...heaven.

'Germknoedel'

Back to our young man. After over an hour of having had lunch with him, we pretty much knew his life story. We learned about his hobbies, how great he was with children (so great they had requested him as their ski-instructor for the past three years), what a hard worker he was, how he would take over his parents farm, and finally, that he would rather like me to stay and be his farmer wife, and Papa (who has a doctor of agriculture) could be his agricultural advisor.

Since I had (kind of jokingly) asked Papa to buy me a "Bauernhof" (farm) in the Austrian mountains at the beginning of our hike, after being reminded just how beautiful it is there, I could sense Papa getting more and more uncomfortable at the prospect of losing his "princess" (he still doesn't know I got promoted to Duchess*...) over lunch. 

*Wee update here: just got an email from Papa addressed "Good morning Duchess..." Naaaw you can teach an old dog new tricks! :)

Obviously I took this proposal with a pinch of salt, since I would never voluntarily tie myself to any place like that. And besides, no ocean, no deal! But it was flattering nonetheless. 

I could imagine this little hut as a hide-out for a while, with its own jetty and pond. 

He had to get back to his pregnant cow, and we began our descent. Not before taking in the majestic view one more time. 

Enough dreaming, off for some study, preferably seated, since I went for a run with a friend yesterday and by the pace he was going, I swear he was trying to kill me...At least I can't walk properly. 

Yours truly,
Fräulein SoulFood x