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It was pretty neat to stand up here, high above Hallstatt on the viewing platform that juts directly out from the mountain.😜 ... Can you spot all the teeny tiny little boats out on the water?👀🚤⛵🌊
Aerial view of Salzburg as seen from the fortress. The fortress is absolutely stunning and well maintained and is indeed a gem for all history lovers.  #austria #vienna #österreich #wien#igersaustria #discoveraustria #visitaustria#igersvienna #ig_austria #tirol #vienna_city#welovevienna #salzburg #tyrol #ig_vienna#linz #austrianblogger #surinsalzburg #alps#feelaustria #ilovevienna #innsbruck#vienna_austria #berge #graz #wandern#вена #styria #kärnten #alpen
Park with a bit of a view.
Traduction: les hommes qui cuisinent sont irrésistibles.  Men that cook are irresistible.
Salzburg is on the banks of the river Salzach (named after salt, which was shipped on the river, the same way that wine used to be shipped up to Paris, but on a different river :)...at the northern boundary of the Alps, folks. The mountains to Salzburg’s south contrast with the rolling plains to the north. The closest alpine peak, the 1,972‑metre-high Untersberg, is less than 16 kilometres (10 miles) from the city centre. Quite a spectacular view and constant magnificent presence.  The river eventually flows into the Danube. But not before waltzing with a few more towns. Ahem...
On The Little Bridge of Dreams.  On a pedestrian bridge where hundreds of locks aim for divine benediction. Or simply validation.  A kind of Cartesian elaboration on the timeless "Je pense donc je suis…” ( I think, therefore, I am). Instead, it’s, "We’re here, therefore we are.” (Nous sommes ici, donc nous sommes.) Maybe that could include, "We are one.  Just look at that lock.” Maybe it’s an enactment of a Dickinsonian “My River Runs To Thee” sensibility. “My River runs to thee  Blue Sea – Wilt welcome me?  I’ll fetch thee Brooks  From spotted nooks …” And so on. (But not much more. Dickinson, after all.) Many of these locks have carefully engraved names… Elizabeth and Andreas, Naty & Diego, Daniela & Fabian, Thamer & Afnah… Who are they?  What is their story?  And does their story continue?  And then of course, there’s Mr. Speak Softly and Carry A Big Padlock… no words, his dreams kept to himself.  Or maybe etched on the side of his axe, the one he uses to carve himself some toothpicks every night.  Still. He’s there as well.  Presumably he had company.  Or in his case the lock might be a prayer, “please send someone.” In which case, I’d say to him, ‘You might want to tidy up just a bit, mate.’ I dunno.  Based on the evidence at hand, I’m guessing his house is a bit on the rugged side and he needs a shave and a shower.  Still, it is a bridge of dreams…and everyone is invited.
A great Poire William is a thing of beauty. No fruit lends itself more optimally towards (un-aged) distillation than the pear. It is well and truly the conversion of pear essence into liquid form. What I have found astonishing at times is how “fat” a fine Poire can taste. Is it possible to taste a liquid and to envision it as a solid in your mind?  There I stood, in this teeny wine tasting bar off Getreidegässe, seeking, epiphanies, or as a poet friend of mine once put it, “that which is eternal to all our small truths”. And as I cast my line into the small glass of big ideas, the elderly gentleman next to me began to quietly sing a tune.  I glanced to my right and his companion smiled politely as if to say, “Please excuse him.” I nodded enthusiastically as if to say, “Oh no, please. Carry on!” The actual bar counter has space for about seven adults, shoulder to shoulder. There was a bit of a crowd at the door.  The three employees were busy. The atmosphere, cozy. As if all of us were in on a really good secret.  My favourite kind of place.  The singing stopped.  We fell into conversation. In fact, I took his singing for an invitation to converse.  His name: Ernst. “A rather old-fashioned name” he added. “I think mine might be older but this isn’t a contest.” I said.  We all laughed.  Ernst then asked the $64,000 question: “Where are you from?” “Which part?” I reply. “Right now.” “Well right now, I’m from here.” I smiled a Cheshire cat grin.  He smiled, unmoved. “So where is home?” Pause. “I think I’m still looking for home.” Ernst: “Well there’s no better place to look for it than in a wine bar.” We all laughed uproariously.  The laughter subsided. The patient gumshoe returned, “Ok.  Where were you born?” “I was born in Puerto Rico…” Another pause.  Whereupon Ernst began to sing— in flawless Spanish— “En Mi Viejo San Juan”, the unofficial national anthem of the island.  He knew all the
Hallstat is a small town in the district of Gmunden and has the most beautiful lake town in Austria. We recommend you to take the funicular and spend some time at the skywalk. The best thing to do after that is to have a cup or coffee or tea at the cafe while enjoying the view from the top of Hallstat.  #hallstat #gmunden #hallstatlake #hallstattaustria #austria #visitaustria #discoveraustria #travel #photography #explore
And there she is; 350 metres below my feet... the village of Hallstatt.🗺 ... So tiny, so pretty and so very cool to see from above, high in the mountains.⛰😍
Not a bad view from the top😍🏞⛰🗺
@konstantin.m_ enjoying perfect conditions on #kitzsteinhorn in #zellkaprun by: @marius.mountains #salzburgerland #salzburg #austria #feelaustria #discoveraustria #myaustria #alps #skiing #glacier #zellamsee #kaprun

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