Zell am See has masses of appeal. It’s a typical Alpine town with cuckoo clock chalets, a magical lake and glorious mountains. In winter the slopes are the preserve of skiers and boarders, in summer they’re the playground of hikers and bikers.
We arrived in town for five days after a sunny July weekend in Salzburg, on a train that wound its way through the green valleys, quaint villages and industrial towns of the Salzburgerland. The dramatic peaks of the Alps towered above us as we trundled over churning rivers and stopped briefly at Bischofshofen, where a famous ski jumping competition takes place every winter. It’s impossible to read a book on an Alpine train because the view out of the window is just too compelling.
Our goal for the week was to take it easy, to relax by the pool and spend a day or two walking in the mountains. Things didn’t go according to plan thanks to the rain and a stomach bug that laid me low for a day and left me with little energy. But at least we were able to chill out and read our books in the hotel’s comfy spa and lounge.
Our luxury hotel in the quiet Schmitten district of town, the Stadt Wien, was traditional but modern, clean and welcoming. It lies between the village centre and the Schmittenhohe cable car, close to a vigorous stream and served by a bus. We relaxed by the pool a few times when the sun shone and chilled in the grounds, which include a petting zoo for youngsters (think rabbits, goats and donkeys) and expanses of lawn. I felt at peace with the world, as I always do when I’m in the mountains. Give me a million pounds and the Alps would be my home, where the landscapes inspire, thrill, hypnotise and calm all at the same time.
We spent one day in the hills after buying the necessary waterproofs for the predicted wet weather, which never in fact arrived. The cable car took us to the top of the Schmittenhohe at almost 2,000m, from where the 360-degree views were typically awe-inspiring. Laid out before us were the town and the Zeller See, while noticeboards claimed we could spot 30 three-thousanders if we felt so inclined. It was refreshingly cool after the humidity and heat of the previous few days and we stopped at the summit to watch a group of daring paragliders strapping up and sailing off into the skies around us.
The footpaths were well marked and busy and a series of information boards detailed the history of the peak. A sporty Empress Elizabeth climbed it in 1885 to watch the sun rise in the days before the cable car and a memorial chapel was built at the summit a few years after her assassination, complete with lots of gaudy Catholic decoration. Other boards detailed the flora and fauna of the slopes as bees buzzed around us, butterflies danced and colourful, dainty wildflowers waved in the breeze.
Our aim was to walk along the top of the mountain to the Schmiedhofalm restaurant in time for lunch, making the most of the views, before turning downhill towards the town. It, however, proved harder to find than we thought thanks to a sudden and out-of-character lapse in signage. We ended up on a steep downward slope meant for vehicles, my knees buckling, sweat pouring off me, the restaurant in the far distance and taunting us with the promise of cold beer and lunch.
After a painful effort, we finally collapsed onto the sundeck with those endless views for company, and the beer and food arrived. The long trek down the mountain followed, through woods and fields, and bloody hard work it was too. Every sinew of my being strained and stretched as we clomped onward, fighting gravity. Fortunately another mountain restaurant appeared and we stopped for more refreshments. Some time later, on arriving back at the hotel for a snooze, I knew that I’d be barely capable of walking the next day but as it turned out, that was the one I spent in bed with the sickness.
After recovering from that bout of horribleness, we took a few hours out to explore the Zeller See. There’s a tourist boat that cruises around the lake but we opted to jump on the cheapo ferry that stops at various points, jumping off almost opposite the town at the Kurpark Thumersbach, where folk relaxed by the water’s edge, hopeful that the heavy clouds squatting over the nearby mountains would drift away. We walked through a park and some posh neighbourhoods with their attractive homes and well-tended gardens, which proved beyond doubt that Zell am See is a wealthy town. But snuggled up to the mountains, they lacked easy access to the slopes, bars and restaurants of the town itself. We made it as far as the renovated Belvedere Hotel, with its excellent views over the water, and stopped for drinks as the long-threatened rain started to fall. So we turned round, made it back to the ferry with our new waterproofs and caught the ferry back again.
Down by the waterfront, Zell is not so easy to navigate. The rail line slices through, cutting off the Grand Hotel, a lake-side walk, parks and pools from the rest of the town. One night we crossed the line to watch a late-night show of musical fountains on the lake, while on others we stopped off at the bars and restaurants – preferably those not showing the World Cup. We ate a wide range of stodge, from pizza and burgers to traditional Austrian fare. But it felt odd tucking into vast quantities of heavy stews, sausages and dumplings in the heat of summer. I yearned for an interesting salad, something light and healthy, but we struggled to find it. By far the best food was served in KraftWerk, a stylish bar and restaurant housed in an old but diminutive power station just a few yards down the hill from our hotel. It took traditional dishes and gave them a modern twist, and the game I chose was delicious indeed. The wine was good too but the service was a trifle oleaginous.
Much of the old town is pedestrianised, with a few stylish shops, and it was usually busy during our stay – especially with visitors from the Arab world. It’s not often that you see middle eastern tourists in an Alpine resort but Zell attracts them in huge numbers following an ad campaign the town ran a few years back that highlighted the area’s lake and snow-capped mountains. This, according to the Qur’an, is what paradise looks like – and I have to say I agree! I couldn’t help wondering how the right-wing racists who seem to make up much of the Austrian electorate (and government) feel about it, and at times I could feel an edginess in the air. However, this left-winger loved seeing such a variety of humanity on a lakes and mountains holiday in the heart of Europe.
Our last day in town – a Friday – was marked by rain and reading. We left early on the Saturday morning for our flight home, catching the train that would take us back to Salzburg. It had been a mixed week thanks to weather and illness, and Zell doesn’t have enough to draw me back, but nothing will ever put me off visiting the mountains…