The hills are alive!

Austria - it was the prettiest place by far we have yet visited.
We left Venice on Friday morning, checking out of our hotel before it began to rain (the first we had seen in weeks).
At the train station, we bought tickets to Innsbruck, Austria, a smallish town in the alps and according to Sam it would be a very scenic trip. I bloody well hoped so.
It was a seven hour train ride with two changes - one at Verona and another within Austria, about half an hour from Innsbruck.
The guy who sold us the tickets also managed to book it so they only cost us 20 euro each instead of the 100-odd euro we were expecting. He told us though that we would have to buy tickets at our second change, Brenner, in Austria to the final destination because then it was with Austrian railways and not Italian.
No worries. We boarded with plenty of time, watched the rain begin to fall and were soon whizzing out of Venice.
The change at Verona was just under two hours and with the arrival time ticking over on Sam’s watch, and a glimpse of a sign saying Verona, naturally when the train stopped, I thought we had arrived. Sam was not convinced and asked me again and again if this was the right stop. Unfortunately we were in the last carriage at the very end of a long, long platform and there was not a sign to be seen.
Weighed down as we were with our bags there was no time for one of us to get off, check, and jump back on. So we hopped off.
Checking the tickets we realised our error. We were in Verona alright, just not the right Verona station.
We wanted Verona Nuove and we were at Verona something else.
Bugger me.
We hit the underground walkway until we got to the station to find out where the hell we were. We couldn’t be far from the right station because the time was right for us to have arrived.
Turns out we got off six minutes too early and the next train heading to the right station was about half an hour away.
Luckily for us, our connecting train to Brenner in Austria was an hour wait, during which we had figured we would get some lunch etc.
So it wasn’t disastrous but I suppose it could have been.
Back on the right platform, Sam whipped across the tracks to find us some lunch while I kicked myself and cursed TrenItalia for not having more signs on the platforms.
Our six-minute train ride went off without a hitch and we made it to our connecting train with 10 minutes to spare.
It seemed that within half an hour of our journey, the scenery had completely changed. High mountain ranges shot up either side of the valley the railway line meandered through and the lush green of grapevines abounded.
It wasn’t long before first Sam then I were pointing out to the other things of interest, including several things that looked like castles, set high on the mountain range.
It was stunningly beautiful and I have no idea why we didn’t pull out our cameras and start snapping away.
As the hours passed, the peaks of the mountains only seemed to get higher and the vegetation even more lush and green.
Houses with wooden trim and colourful flower boxes sprung up everywhere and tiny towns dominated by a central church spire passed us by every few minutes.
When I saw my first peak covered in snow, I’m pretty sure I squealed.
I’ve seen snow before, played in it, frozen my arse off in it, but this was different.
We were entering the region of the Austrian alps and the view was spectacular.
The sky was a brilliant blue, the houses and towns like something out of a fairytale and then white-topped mountains encircled the lot.
The last few hours flew by as we sat in awe of the environment we passed.
Like I said, we stupidly did not take any photos, though it did cross my mind. The windows on the train were so filthy I didn’t think they would do the scenery justice.
Finally, the train terminated at Brenner and we had to buy our onward tickets to Innsbruck.
The next train was in about half an hour but buying a ticket was more tricky than anticipated.
The ticket machine seemed to have every destination in all of Austria listed except the one we wanted.
Frustrated, we made to walk away in search of an employee when a German woman stopped us and asked if the machine was broken.
No, we told her, but Innsbruck is not listed.
She flagged a guy walking past and asked him (I surmise because it was in German) how to buy tickets to Innsbruck.
He started to walk away and the woman followed, so we followed her.
He led us to a train with Innsbruck on the destination window.
She told us that apparently we could buy them on the train so we all boarded.
Several others around us seemed just as confused and waited with expectation for the train dude to come along and ask for our tickets.
We had only six stops to Innsbruck and the scenery was just as picturesque, if not more so than what we had already seen.
Still no train guy and we were getting close to our stop. There was a chance we had got this seven-hour trip for 40 euro between us - a European bargain.
We arrived in Innsbruck without seeing any train dude and without having to buy a ticket.
It was also about 20 degrees cooler than when we had left Venice. Um, why are we here again? I hate the cold. It’s pretty, but cold.
We checked into our hotel, the easiest affair yet given the Ibis was above the railway station.
We had booked on Wotif the night before but then the woman asked for a credit card payment as well, which we thought odd at the time and questioned but seemed satisfied with her response for some reason.
It was an Ibis, actually much bigger than the other ones I have been in, and we had a view from our room of the alps - covered in snow!!!
We were both starving and the Burger King across the road beckoned.
It was about 7pm by this stage.
We were both a little excited, carrying on like stupid tourists. I think the high altitude must have touched us in the head.
After dinner we set off on a walk, freezing our arses off mind you. The time in the Mediterranean must have thinned our blood a little.
Sam was dead keen on finding some schnapps and I just wanted beer.
We found a supermarket about to close and snuck in to buy a six pack, some lollies and peach schnapps.
With our supplies we continued our wander until by accident we stumbled across the Alt Stadt, or old town.
This was tourist central, even given the late hour and we also learned a wine festival was in swing.
We promised ourselves we’d come back tomorrow, wanting an early-ish night.
Back in the hotel, we discovered we had no fridge and of course the beer was not cold - it’s actually hard to find beer that’s cold over here.
So Sam went to reception to ask for ice, while I took advantage of the first decent internet connection we’d had in weeks.
We had some beers and were excited to discover all that Innsbruck held the next day.
Alysia (September 3)