The drive between Lucca and Innsbruck was magical. We hit the river winding into the Southern Alps and watched as the villages slowly transformed from stone, Romanesque houses into wooden, Bavarian chalets. Most notable was the castle, carved out of the rock face of some jutting mountain high above an Alpine valley. We're still searching our heads for how anyone accessed it. It seemed untouchable.
Into Innsbruck we rode, to a little B&B Ali's mother found us while in transit. She did very well. At the end of a stone street, situated perfectly between the stone culdesac and the river Sill, there we found our little pensión. Our well-kept room overlooked the tiny river, and beyond were the sweeping faces of the Alps! The loveliest view we have had all trip.
We spent the next three nights in Innsbruck and happily took in Austrian culture. We learned so much while there, including that Innsbruck was the home of the Hapsburgs, the Holy Roman Empire's most notable and lengthy ruling dynasty; has twice hosted the winter Olympics; that Austrians are about as hospitable and polite a people as can exist, and that they quite literally eat dessert three times a day! Breakfast, dessert, Lunch, dessert, Dinner, dessert. Apfelstrudel, topfenstrudel, sachetorte, ice cream, sugar, SUGAR, SUGAR!
The cable car going up the mountain broke down on the day of our arrival and was yet repaired on the day we left, so we spent much of our time in the old town, tracking through the city's colorful, alpine streets and moseying along the Sill's larger brother -- the Inn River.
On the second night there, our luck with weather changed in an awing way. Two thunderstorms collided over the sleepy, mountain town and lit up the sky with startling strikes of lightning and deafening thunder that echoed through the low valley like some great giant's snare rolling eternally. crack, CLAP, BOOM! went the sky and we hung around long enough on the old bridge to capture it all on video until the first drops of rain hit our bare skin. Then we sprinted through the downpour, soaked and smiling as we slipped into some warmer clothes and had a few beers, watching the storm roll over the mountains just outside.
From that point on a low fog and light rain held over Innsbruck, but it didn't matter. The simple being there was enough for me, and I have crowned Innsbruck as the single most beautiful location of our entire journey. While other cities proved more gorgeous, nowhere we have encountered can top the sheer awesomeness of the Alpine peaks from the floor of that Tyrollean valley.
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