Honey dear: -
There's one German word I'll never forget - aussicht! There is one before me now! I'm up above Mieders, how far I've no means of knowing, but the world is before me, that I'm sure of. It begins with a little clump of houses where I've just had two glasses of unhygienic milk, black bread, butter & cheese. Very good for tea. This is Gleins, all there is to it, except a good bit of cleared land on the shoulder of a mountain which projects so as to provide a wonderful view. I've camped by a wheat field in the hope of avoiding cattle flies whose bite is deadly - I've had enough to know.
Up behind the little group of houses lies Waldrast, a mild mountain. I arrived here over its shoulder and along its side from Sta. Maria Waldrast, a monastery up in the pass between Serles, which is nigh to 9,000 and where Alice is at this minute with two English folks, and Waldrast. The monastery is 1670 metres which is 5010 ft & some more, maybe 5500 feet, an absurd place to build a big pilgrimage church! There are quantities of crutches and wax legs and arms, horses, cows and everything! (This bank isn't the right angle for good writing!) Along the way are, maybe, 14-15 shrines with really nice pictures in there, in the main, but the smaller ones (specials added on the side) are funny. I found one today where a tree fell on a man, and his soul rises to a Virgin shaped like this
She does have arms & embroidered clothes but her outlines are absurd. There is no path to the monastery better or shorter than the one I went by, maybe 3 1/2 or 4 miles. Then I came back - oh, the place lets you see the snow mountains of the Brenner region and 'tis a heavenly view. The climb to Serles is 3 hours from there, mostly rock work and whether Alice, Miss Rowland (charming Eng. violinist) and Mr. Gore (elderly Eng. gentleman in conservative politics) will get to the top I don't know. It's far more of a climb than anything in the White Mountains. Well, I came here by a trail not much travelled, but clearly marked for the most part and easy. The man and woman at the "Ochsenhütte" (a mt. climbing hut) both took an interest in me and gave me advice. From here it's only half an hour down to Mieders, but at this angle \.
Across the valley and up & down it are mountains and mountains with several little towns in sight.
Many flowers! The hairy blue-bell and the little gentian (I'll put in that one) are the nicest today. Alpine roses about gone. But the sun is too deadly - I don't want to blister. So I'll start down.
It's nearly dinner time. I've had a nice rest and wash and I doubt if my back is any the worse. The only jerk it had was when I tried to rescue a postcard for a girl from under the feet of a mongrel pup. It has been a heavenly day, cool & clear, with fresh snow to make the mountain caps stylish. You would have loved it. Going alone, I did not hurry and I have acquired a cane which helps much coming down. The trails are fine, so well marked, both with signs and paint splotches, it felt so natural to follow one! Practically everyone carries a spiked cane, and the region around the monastery to which several trails converge had the ground all punched with little holes! The trails are so wide that one can't use branches to climb by. Almost all the time today I was on what might be pony trails if there were any ponies.
Alice got home at half past seven. They went clear to the top and it is no small climb - a wonderful view since there is a big gap between this and others as high or higher. She brought me lots of flowers, several from the last cone, though the thing seems to be all rock a long way down. We have been looking them over tonight. They'll all be lame tomorrow, I guess.
Oh - the band concert last night! It didn't clear enough for any long walk at all yesterday - we went to some larch woods in the forenoon (lovely, too) and a bit along the river in the afternoon. Pale lavender crocuses are coming up with the rain! Exquisite things, as big as our garden ones, no leaves. There are so many things not in my little botanies. The town band played in the evening. They stand in a circle with the music held by snap clothes pins to their stands, under strong electric lights - this in the middle of the main street. No buses after about seven - no other autos allowed - no horses except for business anyhow! I'm in the country! Well, the band numbers about 30, the leader is the village shoemaker. 5 clarinets, 2 trumpets, 3 cornets, 2 trombones, 5 middle-sized horns, 2 big ones - bass drum, cymbals, snaredrum - that's about it. They wear hats with 2 fluffly white feathers up the back, about 6 inches high, brown coats with green trimmings (one epaulette is the custom around here). Sundays they are said to have snug embroidered nethers and grand belts & braces, last night they were plain. Everybody stands around close to the band. Two evidently had small sons anchored solemnly beside them. And they played well! Occasionally they got off, but 'twas nice, pleasant music, well done. There may be 300-400 inhabitants in the town - and to get 30 into the band means a wide range of age, the man on the cymbals must have been 70, the boy on one cornet not over 20. 'Tis for fun that they do it, practice all winter, concerts Wednesdays and Sundays in the summer.
But I must go to bed. It's been a grand day even if I couldn't go to the top. I'm so glad somebody turned up to take Alice. I could write quite a few paragraphs about our companions.
Wallfahrt Maria Waldrast mit Serles 2912 m. Tirol. Monopol 6246.
This is the mountain Alice climbed, and the monstery Sta. Maria Waldrast. And that mountain is lots steeper than the picture shows!
Aug. 9 And now my packing is practically done, and it's late. It always is, for folks get so talkative the night before you leave! We've had a fine time here, and I'd like to stay longer. It's comfortable & cheerful and unspoiled country! The cow lives in the house right next door - not with the folks, but awful near! She steps out in the alley of [sic] a morning! Cows are the beasts of buden, not oxen. And all the agriculture is by hand. Mrs. Gore (Eng.) says they plough with a crooked stick, but she sometimes exaggerates!
Yesterday Alice & I spent a lot of the forenoon in a wonderful larch wood up along a way - absolutely idyllic, that wood is. Then in the afternoon I rambled about Telfes, the town across the valley, where agriculture was at its best - reaping, hazing &c. There are patches of poppy for the seeds, and the flax they stack in a very different pattern from the other grain. 'Tis all most fascinating to me. There was another band concert in the evening. The symbals man is an artist! He plays with a motion of the knees I hope I'll not forget. A big late bus came along - and waited for the band to finish its selection - I told you they play in the middle of the street. You walk up and look over their shoulders to see what the selection is! Folks do it all around the ring.
There is a short blue coat much in evidence - it's all I can do not to buy one. Bright blue, linen, for men! We saw one girl in knickers today and one in shorts. Both were perhaps affiliated with glaciers, for we went to the end of the road up the valley to Ranalt. First maybe 5-6, no, 10 miles to Neustift, going through Fulpmes where the visits of queen & prince of Bavaria & the king & queen of Holland are commemorated in a tablet on the wall of the hotel! There are [sic] a large tree painted on the same wall, with a vine running up it, and at the top sits the Virgins on a little cloud. Another house has a plain tree with a Madonna on top. These paintings are so näive! They put them on new houses as well as old - and they tell such stories. Did I mention the big house where up in the gable is a man pouring water on a blazing little house? You never know when you're going to come to a shrine - they're everywhere, old and new - along roads, leaning up against houses, in the fields, on the mountains, and so many times there's a narrative, not just a crucifix.
We've heard a little about the South Tirol situation. Our fine cook lived there. At the end of the war her husband was in a Russian prison, so he never went home, and is therefore not an Italian citizen. She is - but she, like thousands, escaped and got here. It will take many years for her to get rid of her Italian citizenship, and of course she can't go back safely. Some escaped in winter over glaciers. One man has a brother there - neither can go to see the other, this one is refused an Italian visa, the other an Italian passport. It's all a story of petty persecutions - confiscation of property, &c.
I'm sending more cards & pamphlets tomorrow when we go to Innsbruck. Hope they get through safely. Do read the Salzburg book - it is funny in translation, but it has the atmosphere.
The end of the valley is wonderful, the walls come closer & closer till only the narrow road, maybe one field & the tumbling glacial stream are left. It's such a rough road for the tumble down stages from Neustift to Ranalt! But the scenery is great! Though the glaciers are still miles further, they keep showing, and there are waterfalls and beautiful trees &c. We walked on maybe two miles farther, saw our lone German woman of the carriage drive tramping in for three nights up aloft among huts & glaciers, with a guide! She was an energetic person! Many guides visible, with badges as big as sauce dishes, very fine men I should say. We had a good lunch, up at that last settlement of 4 houses! One horse stepped on a loose plank in a bridge coming home, lost his footing when a leg dropped out from under, so to speak, and it sure was perilous for a minute, for that river is no joke, but everybody, especially the horse, did the correct thing. Of course the bridge had no guard or anything. Meeting other vehicles on that road anywhere is a matter for pause, conversation, careful adjustment! But it's a great region and we've had a fine week! My back has gained a lot. I must have managed 6 miles +, with one really good long climb. It is a good deal of fun.
Much love -
- Abby -
The nice English violinist Miss Rowland went with us today.