Traunstein is a well-preserved traditional Bavarian village with lovely little shops in the center, lining cobbled streets. Its biggest claim to fame is that the Pope attended seminary there before leaving for the university in Munich. The weather was damp but warm as we wandered from booth to booth at our second Christmas Market on our holiday tour.
It didn't take us long to make our way to every booth at this market, including those serving gluwhein, of course. But J. and I also went into several of the regular shops, amazed by the fact that such a small village could have so many busy shops filled with beautiful clothing, home decor, dishes, crystal, jewelry and more. Mainstreet still thrives here. And as dusk started to fall, we had to stop for one last steaming mug of gluwhein and listen to the community ompah-pah band playing on a tiny wooden stage.
We weren't spending the night in Traunstein. RM had booked us into an inn near Lake Chiemsee a few kilometers away. When we awoke the next morning, snow blanketed the countryside, making it feel more like the Christmas season and putting us in the mood for more markets.
Today, we were headed for the alpine city of Mozart and The Sound of Music, Salzburg. From Lake Chiemsee, we had less than 20 miles to drive to Salzburg, just beyond the Austrian border. After a few rounds of singing "Eidelweiss," we were there, searching for our hotel in the city. RM had found one next to the year-round outdoor market and a few blocks from one of the bridges over the Salzach River, leading to the city center.
J. and I knew a bigger city meant a bigger Christmas Market and more booths. We couldn't wait to get going, so we checked into the hotel and dressed up for the cold. Alpine Salzburg was frigid and damp so we had to bring out our heaviest artillery. For me, that included a hat that tied around my chin and covered my ears. I'd bought it years ago when I'd been sent to Chicago for three months to work at my direct marketing agency's satellite office there. RM made a little fun of me when I put it on. J. told me to put some sort of pin on it to make it look better, and since I had brought some of my jewelry along on this trip to Sloevenia, I found a large vintage rhinestone brooch that I attached to it. As for J., she had a pointy suede hat lined with sheepskin. No wonder she didn't laugh too hard at my hat. We didn't care, as long as we were warm while trekking through Salzburg.
We set off down the busy street, first wandering through the farmer's market filled with fresh produce, meat, fish, even flowers. Suddenly, we all spied a booth filled with vegetables, including strange, large, pointed cabbages that stood like statues on the in the bins. We burst out laughing. It was a photo opp we couldn't pass up, and other people in the market couldn't help but at least smile.
The cabbage patch doll and I posed for one more picture, hats and all, before we crossed the bridge to the beautiful city center.
Salzburg's market was large and festive. We wandered through booths set up in courtyards and plazas, decked out with white lights and filled with music, food and, yes, gluwhein. We spent most of that day and all of the next day exploring the city center and finding a lot of treasures to buy -- things we hadn't seen at the other two markets. And as we'd done in Traunstein, J. and I wandered into some of the regular shops, drawn in by window displays of Christmas lights and decorations, Austrian crystal and magnificent traditional Bavarian clothing.
It wasn't cheap to dress in these traditional clothes. In fact, they were incredibly expensive. But since J. and I neither one thought we would ever have the appropriate opportunity to wear such an outfit, we were content with just admiring them.
RM had to do some rearranging in the car after our Salzburg stop. J. and I had accumulated several bags by now and we'd sort them out once we were back in Slovenia. We had two more stops to make, in Villach and Klagenfurt, Austria, just before we would cross the border into Slovenia. The last two markets were small but nice; however, by this time, we were seeing more of the same stuff for sale and I was just about gluwheined out. It was time to go home.
As we drove down through the alps, headed toward Goce, I became excited about being back home but a little nervous about our first house guest. The house had sat empty for days in the cold with no fire in the smoking stove and no electric heaters on. Nonetheless, I couldn't wait to show it off to J.
We stopped for groceries in Vipava before heading up to the village. It was dark when we arrived. I can't say that J. was impressed with the place, but once she'd warmed up next to the stove, which tended to belch smoke from time to time, she started to settle in to the middle room. RM had purchased a new twin bed while I was gone and had screwed wooden planks to the two walls around the bed to help warm up the cold stucco. That's where J. would sleep. The house warmed up, although RM kept having to replace fuses in the ancient box that kept blowing under the weight of having so many electrical appliances running at the same time.
What I didn't know was that J.'s expectations for the house were incredibly low. Of course, I'd been honest with her, telling her that other than cleaning it up, we hadn't done much to it. Her comment was straight and to the point: "It isn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. In fact, it's kind of cozy."
We took a day to drive to Trieste. J. had been there before but we wanted to see if they had a Christmas Market. We never found one, but loved spending time in all of the shops in the city center. In fact, J. bought a beautiful and trendy red coat, her favorite color. We walked by it, displayed in the window of a small shop, a couple of times before my urging sent her through the door to try it on. Sold. I only wondered how she was going to get home with the lovely traditional Bavarian hat she'd purchased in Munich,a new coat and all of the Christmas Market treasures she'd bought along the way. Oh, and there were the dozen packages of gluwhein mix we'd discovered in Slovenia where it's called "kuhano vino." Just pour it into simmering wine, stir and enjoy!
We celebrated J.'s birthday with dinner at home as she worked to pack and repack, somehow making everything fit except for a stainless steel covered pan she'd bought in Slovenia. I wasn't surprised. J.'s a consummate traveler and extremely organized. As for the pan, I'd bring that back with me on my next trip.
It was time to leave for Venice. We parked the car in a garage and boarded the Tronchetto for the water ride into Venice. It was cold and gray and damp. And while we were shivering in St. Mark's Square, huge white flakes started to fall. It rarely snows in Venice. We were witnessing a bit of a miracle. It was my first time in the city built on stilts of Roman pine trees and I was in awe. Venice was magic under the snow.
I would have to come back when the weather was warmer to explore Venice. And since I now lived less than an hour away from it, that wouldn't be difficult.
We spent the night in a B&B outside Venice, near the airport. J.'s flight was early so we were up before dawn to end an incredible trip and resume our normal lives. I wondered what was normal for me now, living in this tiny Slovenian village so far away from Missouri. Perhaps "normal" would be synonymous with "adventure" for me from now, on. Everything, it seemed, was new.
