It was a short drive from Oberammergau to the village of Bad Kohlgrub.* There, at the base of Hörnle Mountain, Marcus delivered Vicki and me to the Hotel Shillingshof. We hauled our bags off the bus and waved goodbye to the crew as the rain finally tapered off into scattered puddles.
The village was as neat as a pin, adorned with intricate Bavarian woodwork and signage for hiking and ski trails. Just up the street, a ski lift climbed toward the peaks.
Water puddled here and there but the rain had stopped.
Houses and businesses were as neat as pins with beautiful Bavarian-style woodwork. Signage pointed out nearby hiking/cross-country ski trails. Just up the street was a ski lift.
Bad Kohlgrub and ski environs. Image from https://wepowder.com/en/hornle (accessed 6/19/2022).
The place catered to skiers, both downhill and cross-country.
A car crawled up the narrow road and pulled alongside us. Inside was a woman in uniform.
She leaned across her seat and began scolding us through the open passenger window—first in rapid-fire German, and then, noting our blank stares, in stern English. Apparently, the bus had not parked to her satisfaction. I shook my head in protest.
“I am not the driver,” I said.
This didn’t seem to matter. A law was being broken, and a scolding was in order. She pressed on.
“Ma’am, I’m just a tourist,” I interrupted, hoping to shed a guilt that wasn't mine to carry. “We’re both just tourists.”
She drew a deep breath, issued a visible harrumph of pure disgust, and wheeled away over the hill. Vicki and I looked at each other as the car disappeared. I only hoped Marcus and the driver could dodge the “Harrumphing Policewoman of Bad Kohlgrub.”
Vicki in front of Hotel Shillingshof.
Alpine Idyls and Bavarian Roots
The Hotel Shillingshof clearly catered to the ski and spa set, with a fair share of the Oberammergau Passionsspiele crowd mixed in. We confirmed we were in the right place, found our room, and immediately threw ourselves into it.
The afternoon storm blew through the pasture grass near our hotel.
Refreshed after a shower and dinner, we went for a sunset stroll. The air was cool and crisp, and the afternoon storm had left the long grass flattened and glistening. We watched a herd of sheep grazing near the woods where downhill paths cut through the timber.
The Bavarian landscape is idyllic, traditional, and deeply Catholic. Here, folks wear lederhosen and dirndls for real, not for show. They are proud of their roots and fiercely independent—so much so that some call Bavaria the “Texas of Germany.”
We returned to our room to finally wrestle our jet lag into submission. Tomorrow, we would meet our fellow travelers at breakfast and set our sights on the Danube.
*Bad, in German, refers to a “bath,” “medical spa,” or by extension, “resort.” Many place names carry this sticker, such as Bad Kohlgrub or Bad Schandau. You might even say that in this part of the world a bad place can be a very nice place!
We will be returning to the Mediterranean in September of 2023. From the port of Athens, we depart for Ephesus and Patmos, then sail for the Holy Land. There, we disembark for day trips to Jerusalem and the Galilee. Following these experiences, we return to Greece, via ports in Cyprus—Limassol and Paphos—and the spectacular volcanic island of Santorini. Onboard lectures give focus to life in the biblical world. English-speaking guides will meet us at each port. We partner with Norwegian Cruise Line for a “mid-sized ship” with a “bigger experience.” For more details click the link here.