Far Off The Beaten Track.

The hitherto undiscovered jewel called Burgenland.

Bob and I were driving to fetch a brush cutter from a workshop in a village three over. On paper a mere hop but in Burgenland a sedate journey over the undulating hills that are either filled with crops or just plain as is. Not many buildings in sight apart from a few homes or Kellerstöckls dotted here and there. A real feast for the senses and not the usual overload of a busy landscape filled with sights and people.

We drove for miles and never saw a tourist. We drove for miles and only met with a few oncoming cars. We drove for miles and were grateful that everyone keeps mistaking Austria for the towns and villages at the foothills of the alps. Yes, the alps are Austria, the alps are beautiful but the alps are also overrun with tourists. Living there can't be much fun.

A bit closer to home, at the foothills of our ' alpine region ' a.k.a. The Eisenberg the odd tourist started appearing on the road, seated atop bicycles. Quite a bane trying to navigate narrow roads with a bevy of cycling beauties. Nerves, especially Bob's, did get a bit frayed and I won't repeat what he mumbled.

Bob took the alpine road home and when we were entering the Eisenberg Weinberg Kellerstöckl area, we couldn't believe our eyes. Tourists everywhere. On foot, on two wheels and in cars. Perhaps as many as ten. A lot for a Saturday morning and they naturally didn't care about us trying to drive past them.

Two older people equipped with the brand of an exerciser, Nordic sticks although they used them more to lean on, stood halfway in the road chatting to two ladies resting on a bench. Bob was at the helm and I could almost feel his foot itching to put foot. He was getting impatient because he couldn't pass them and they only turned around when they took in the impatient idling of our car. With scathing looks the tourists ( we know almost all our villagers ) stepped back onto the curb and Bob stepped onto the gas pedal.

His window was open and he managed to get his feelings vented by loudly muttering an opinion. I, of course jumped down his throat for being impatient, swearing and more importantly, not being respectful of his elders....doesn't bode well for me, being a bit older than Master Bob!

Biggi