DAS ESSEN

Platter of fresh Austrian produce - cheese, meat, sausage, eggs and butter.

HEADY MEMORIES

We ate like Hobbits in Austria - missing no opportunity for a meal or a snack. 



Austrian fondue with boiling broth, meats and dips.
Fondue dip garnished with raspberries
Austrian fondue - broth with raw meat for dipping
Fondue dip garnished with raspberries.
Frittatensuppe - pancake soup in Austria.
Austrian schnapps made from mountain berries.
Austrian hotel with window boxes full of red flowers.
Spaetzle - cheesy dumplings cooked in a pan.

THREE GREAT EATERIES:


1. AUGUSTINER BRÄU-STUBL | SALZBURG

A 600 year-old brewery, where the beer brewed is by monks, then poured into a giant ceramic mug by the pint, and slid across the bench to you, spilling the foam all over the place. An indoors market of-sorts, where you are served meat, dumplings and sauerkraut. And a beautiful garden, where you can enjoy your meal, then stay for seconds and thirds, and ever more conversation.

2. MUNDING | INNSBRUCK


The best apple strudel I have ever tasted. Probably the best I ever will. 

3. ZOLLWIRT | ST. JAKOB IN DEFEREGGEN

Recommended to us by a friend of my mother's, this restaurant is situated in a teeny-tiny village between the Alps. Patronised by all the locals, run by waitresses wearing traditional dresses without a touch of irony, and with a menu full of Tyrolean specialties written out in German and Italian, this place was the most authentic eatery of our entire trip. On top of that, the food was amazing.


Augustiner Beer Garden, Salzburg.
Inside the monastery of the Augustiner Beer Garden, Salzburg.
Beer and good food at the Augustiner Bräu Hall in Salzburg.
Typical Austrian pub fare - sausages, sauerkraut, meat, dumplings and mustard at a Beer Garden
Augustiner Bräu Hall Salzburg - beer mugs at the monastery.
Kaiserschmarrn - a dish of cut up pancakes, icing sugar and raisins.
The best apple strudel in the world - from Munding in Innsbruck.

ALMWIRTSCHAFT

Austrian jersey cows with brown hides and cow bells roaming free in the mountains.

ALPINE TRANSHUMANCE

& THE WHEEL OF THE YEAR


PASTORALISM

The farming of animals on one settled piece of land.

TRANSHUMANCE

The seasonal movement of animals and people.

NOMADISM

The constant movement of animals and people.


Since time immemorial, animals have responded to the seasons of the Earth. Geese, elephants, bears, salmon, and cicadas - all navigate their lives according to the changing cycles of weather.

People too, can align with the Earth by moving with the seasons. For hundreds of thousands of years before the Neolithic revolution, people were on the move - following the migratory patterns of animals. Even after the domestication of the cow, the horse, the sheep, and the grass, the nomadic peoples of the world still move in these patterns. 

In the Alps of Austria, there is another kind of movement, one much more grounded than traditional nomadic mobility, and yet still in tune with the wheel of the year - called Almwirtschaft.

There, in the summer of the mountains, the cattle roam freely between the higher pastures, under the watch of a herdsman who lives in a small mountain hut. Then, in the winter, herdsman and cattle return to the valley and the village, where the cows are stabled and are fed the hay that was reaped during the short summer season. In spring, they are led out again, to the fields and middle pastures, where they may fertilize the lands soon to be cultivated again. Come summer, it is back to the high pastures. It is a closed-loop system, one that originated from necessity during times of self-sufficiency. The peoples of the Alps rely on this mix of agriculture and husbandry, and the movement of the cattle allows them to focus on their crops during the summer months, letting the cows graze on uncultivated lands while they labour in the fields. It also keeps their cattle healthy, with alpine-pasture cattle fetching higher prices at market. And so it has been, since the late Neolithic, in the higher reaches of the Austrian Alps.

There is more, though, to Almwirtschaft, than the simple functionality and economic benefits of the system. The small movement of cows and people up and down the mountains encourages a deeper relationship between all three: people, animals, and the earth underfoot. The relations between people and animals is strengthened through their mutual reliance - people requiring animals for milk, fertilizer, hides and meat, and the animals being watched over and cared for by their shepherd.

The relationship between peoples is strengthened too, as there are many festivities associated with Almwirtschaft. There are joyous celebrations at the coming of spring, what with the many opportunities to be hired that summer to work in the fields, and then more celebrations upon the safe return of the cows by the herdsmen - a thanksgiving of sorts. At these times, the cows are bedecked in ribbons, and their horns are woven about with wildflowers. John G. Evans even postulates that these ancient festivals would have provided the necessary social bonding required between the villagers for the cooperative forms of work during the summer months. 

And finally, the seasonal movement of animals and people strengthens the bonds between these beings and the earth - realigning their thoughts and actions to the wheel of the year and to the minute whisperings of the lands about them. The cows know, just as the humans do, when it is time to return to the valley. 

Overall, Almwirtschaft is a grounding force in the lives of those who practice it.

 

Wooden huts in the Austrian mountains

The quiet transition from autumn to winter is not a bad time at all. It’s a time for protecting and securing things and for making sure you’ve got in as many supplies as you can. It’s nice to gather together everything you possess as close to you as possible, to store up your warmth and your thoughts and burrow yourself into a deep hole inside, a core of safety where you can defend what is important and precious and your very own. Then the cold and the storms and the darkness can do their worst. They can grope their way up the walls looking for a way in, but they won’t find one, everything is shut, and you sit inside, laughing in your warmth and solitude, for you have had foresight.
— TOVE JANSSON - MOOMINVALLEY IN NOVEMBER

Cows roaming free in the mountains of Tyrol, Austria.
A tiny pond high up in the Austrian mountains.
Cows on the hiking track in the mountains of Tyrol, Austria.

FURTHER READING:

Evans, John G. Environmental Archaeology and the Social Order. 2004.

Pens, Hugo. 'The Importance, Status and Structure of Almwirtschaft in the Alps,' in Human Impact on Mountains. ed. Nigel J. Allan et al. 1993.

NAIAD

 A flower crown of wild flowers and wild strawberries, floating on a crystal clear river.

NAIAD

noun /ˈnāad,-əd,nī-/

1. A water spirit of classical mythology, that dwells beside running water
2. A submerged aquatic plant with minute flowers


Long before water spirits became something of an evil, in the time of much older tales, there lived the Naiads - the water spirits belonging to rivers, springs and fountains. It was the moving waters which they loved.

They lived long lives, upwards of a thousand years, but looked akin to you or I. 

As water is necessary for all of life, so it is necessary for other modes of creation - and often the gift of a Naiad's waters would bestow upon the drinker a natural poetic talent or the power of prophecy. 

The Naiads were beloved in these times, as they provided life and blessings to every village or city via the waterways. And although they had no temples dedicated to their worship, the most beautiful sections of a river or forest were esteemed by the local people as the home of that Naiad. 

It was not uncommon in classical stories for Naiads and other nymphs to transform into natural features of the landscape, with the help of a Goddess such as Artemis. Such stories reveal the feelings of the ancients towards their surrounding landscape: one of wonder and reverence; a world in which each brook and each tree may be divine.


THE NAIAD'S WREATH

On the shores of an icy river sat a maiden.
The Naiad of this river spoke to the girl, telling her of a patch of wild strawberries, which, if plucked and woven into a wreath, would endow her with the power of clear sight.
Beside the river was a small forest, with evergreen trees that grew in tight bundles, and a mossy carpet underneath. The maiden walked there, searching for the strawberries. Eventually she found them, in a pile of bracken, and she wove them into a circlet of flowers.
Placing this upon her head, she was lost to our world, entering that of the nymphs, and tree spirits. For many years she passed to-and-fro beneath the boughs of the evergreen forest, wandering in dells and along the lane, through meadows and over stiles, and always she was drawn back to the river where the Naiad sat singing and combing her long hair. 
The Naiad sang songs that started merrily in the hills and came tumbling down into deeper pools. She sang to the maiden, to herself and to the stars. 
But then the maiden began to feel as if she must return to our world, to see her friends and family once more. She was loth to leave the Naiad and the tree nymphs and the stars, and yet she knew it must be so. Gathering her courage, she took off her crown, placing it gently in the river waters. It was washed away, and with it went the spell. She returned home, and all her memories became but distant dreams; sometimes she would smile as she heard the sound of a singing brook.

 

 

A wood nymph sitting in the trees by the river.
Wood nymph by the river with a flower crown of strawberries.
Flower crown of wildflowers and strawberries sitting on a burnt log
A river in the mountains of Austria, bordered by mossy stones and purple heather.
If Terra the Earth is divine, so also is the sea . . . and therefore the Flumina [rivers], and Fontes [springs] too.
— CICERO
Tiny wild strawberries growing in the mountains of Austria.
River nymph and a wild flower crown.
Forest nymph in black and white
Flower crown floating down a blue river.
In the lonely hour of noon the Naiad sat with her water-pitcher at the spring -
sending forth from it the warbling brook.