Where has the Time gone? - Part 1: Back to Bad Aussee

Pretty much exactly ten years ago, I opened my blog post about a trip to my ten year school reunion by remarking on the rather impressive trail I’d blazed in my little over thirty-one years at the time. Now, as I’m well into my forties, This has become even more clear. Granted, I haven’t moved around much physically anymore, only from the city centre to the suburbs of Cork, but my professional life has certainly developed in some interesting direction.

And yet, I can’t help but think back at the heady days of 2001 and 2002, my last year in school, and the people I met back then. It’s a part of my life that simply has stayed with me more than many others, despite the fact that my attempts at attaining a higher education ultimately turned out futile. So you can imagine how happy I was when I got an email back in May of this year inviting me to the twenty-year reunion. Naturally, I accepted and, once the timing was nailed down, I set about booking the flights and hotels needed to get me to Bad Aussee for the last weekend of September. I’d be flying directly from Cork this time, as I’ve had enough of Dublin Airport for quite some time at this point. With everything booked, it was just a question of waiting until the time had come.

Day 1 – September 28th

Cork Airport, 4.30 AM - Why do I keep doing this to myself?

Here's my ride to Amsterdam, after overnighting in Cork.

The alarm clock goes off at 3 AM. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Either way, after a quick shower, I head down to the pre-booked taxi for my ride to the airport. Even if buses were an option, I wouldn’t be in the mood for one at 3.30. The ride to the airport is quick and painless, which should be a given at this ungodly hour. Did I mention yet that I hate these early starts? Once at the airport, I go from the kerbside to having dropped off my luggage and passed through security to the airside within ten minutes. My aircraft for the flight to Amsterdam, PH-EXV, a five-year-old Embraer E-195, is already waiting airside, having overnighted at the airport after arriving the previous afternoon.

These new seats on KLM's Embraer E-195 fleet are a massive improvement over the older seats!

A Ryanair 737-800 at Cork waiting for the first flight of the day.

Coffee always tastes better at 10,000 meters, doesn't it?

Morning mood over the North Sea.

Approaching the Dutch coast...

Boarding is completed, despite the flight being pretty full, probably due to passengers being rebooked from some of the previous day’s flights, which had been cancelled due to storm Agnes. Still, the seat next to me remains clear, which is a very welcome development. Interestingly, the aircraft is equipped with a new model of seat that KLM seems to be rolling out for its short-haul fleet. I’d first noticed them on a business trip to Munich the previous year. Unfortunately, shortly after boarding is completed, the captain comes on over the PA system, announcing a 25 minute ground stop due to airspace congestion over Schiphol airport. We finally taxi to the runway twenty minutes later and are wheels up out of Cork’s Runway 16 at 06:35. The flight itself passes smoothly, with some great views of the sunrise above the clouds. Coffee always tastes better with that type of view, doesn’t it. We land on Amsterdam Schiphol’s Runway 18R, the infamous Polderbaan. Despite the delay however, and the seemingly interminable taxi from that runway to the terminal area, we actually arrive on time, despite the delayed departure. 

When the taxiway is so long it turns into a country road...

On the ground at Schiphol.

In the terminal, I quickly pass through the automated passport control, pay my idiot tax (I’d forgotten my 3.5mm to Lightning headphone adapter) and make my way to the KLM Crown Lounge in the Schengen Area, where I get access with the business class upgrade I bought for the Amsterdam to Graz segment of this flight. The lounge itself is definitely a mixed bag. It is large, well-appointed and well stocked, but still very crowded. What’s worse, the sanitary facilities are simply in a sorry state. Seriously, I’ve seen pub and nightclub bathrooms that were in better shape. I get that KLM puts a lot of emphasis on its long-haul business and therefore prioritises the facilities in the non-Schengen areas of the airport, but still. Do better, KLM. Despite this however, I’m able to recharge my laptop, my watch, and myself before heading out to the gate.

Does anyone know what the building work in Lounge 1 at AMS is about?

In the KLM Schengen Lounge...

Looking out at the regional ramp at Schiphol.

I have a feeling KLM might have a base here...

I arrive at the gate just as boarding starts and it soon becomes clear that this flight is going to be packed to the rafters. It certainly doesn’t help that the aircraft for this flight, PH-EXK, a six-year old Embraer E-175, is the smallest aircraft in the KLM fleet. What’s worse, it’s also still equipped with the old seats, so everything is even more tight. Still, we push back on time and take off in a southerly direction from Runway 18L. Initially, there’s not much to see outside, as it's pretty cloudy. However, the further south we get, the more it clears up and by the time we fly over Frankfurt, there’s nary a cloud to be seen. As we make our way south, the alps come into view, and by the time we fly over Munich airport, they are clearly visible.

The further south we get, the more the clouds disappear.

Lunch Time...

The Alps come into view, with Lake Chiemsee in the foreground.

That's Salzburg down below...

It is at this point that the flight turns magical, as wispy haze blankets the valleys of the alps, contrasting with the dark, rugged shapes of the mountains themselves. As we pass north of the Chiemsee, this landscape takes on an almost Tolkien-esque quality. At this point, I’m effectively glued to the window, but things are about to get even better. We pass northwest of Salzburg, the city and its airport clearly visible even as haze envelops the valleys behind. As we start to cross the Alps proper, we’re treated to an absolute spectacle as the lakes of the Salzkammergut are laid out below us. Fuschlsee, Wolfgangsee, all pass below us, their deep aquamarine waters contrasted by the green of the valleys and the browns and greys of the mountains. However, it is only when I see the long, snaking shape of the Hallstättersee come into view that I realise that I’m about to get a birds-eye tour of the places I’ll be visiting over the next few days. And indeed, soon, some very familiar mountains come into view: Sarstein, Zinken, Loser, and in the background the mighty Dachstein, its glaciers a pale imitation of its former glory. Down there, nestled in the shadows of these mountains and framed by the deep blue waters of the Grundlsee and Altauseer See lies Bad Aussee, the spa town where I went to school for five years, and my ultimate destination. It is at this point where we begin our descent, though the sights continue to come thick and fast. The Grimming comes into view next, its bulk dominating the valley of the Enns.

Looking down on Bad Aussee and the Ausseerland region. The snowfield in the background is what's left of the Dachstein glaciers.

The Enns valley, an area I'll see from the ground shortly...

It feels weird to see this landscape, that I've seen form the ground so many times, from the air for the first time, twenty years after I left.

The Aichfeld, ancestral home of the Austrian part of my family, or at least the part that can be traced. In the foreground is the Red Bull Ring, Austria's Formula 1 circuit, with Zeltweg Air Base, home to the Austrian Air Force's Eurofighter Typhoons just above and to the left.

We’re now well and truly into our descent, following, and eventually crossing the Paltental, but before we leave the mountains behind, I get one final blast from the past on this flight, as the wide expanse of the Aichfeld comes into view. This large basin in the valley of the river Mur hosts not only the Red Bull Ring, Austria’s premier motorsports and Formula 1 track, but also Zeltweg, the country’s only fighter air base. More importantly though, at its western extremity, lies the ancient trading town of Judenburg, where in 1956, the girl who would grow up to be my mother was born. It is also where the Austrian branch of my family tree in general hails from, and where I spent my weekends there at my Grandmother’s place during my boarding school years in Bad Aussee.

The rest of the approach is far less spectacular, as Graz lies just south of the Alps. Also, the remainder of the approach leads over terrain that is quite honestly far less familiar to me. As the mountains give way to foothills, we make our final turns to line up for an approach and landing on Runway 34C at Graz Thalerhof Airport. Given just how many of the most crucial locations of my youth I was able to spot from the air, I can’t help but wonder if someone helped with the route planning for this flight. If so, thank you, mom & dad!

On the ground at Graz. I never thought I'd land here.

There's something about walking from the aircraft to the terminal.

A final look at our aircraft.

We touch down gently and take our sweet time slowing down, given the massive length of the runway at Graz airport. The airfield as such appears nearly deserted, with the exception of a solitary Lufthansa CRJ-900 which had come in from Frankfurt. Even with the full load and the cramped seats though, our Embraer 175 is still superior to that elongated misery. As we taxi to our stand, I can’t help but geek out a little at the fact that I’ve finally managed to fly to Graz. I’ve been an aviation geek for as long as I can remember, and every time we visited my late aunt in Graz, I would beg to be taken out to the airport. So for me to finally land here is something special indeed.

Looking back at the airport, with the covered walkway to the train station clearly visible.

Flughafen Graz Feldkirchen train station serves Graz Airport.

These trains operate the majority of S-Bahn suburban services around Graz.

Seatback tables, air conditioning, power points above, information displays, this suburban train is better equipped than Irish intercity services!

Well, I've been to worse hotels, but also better ones...

The same goes for the weather! As I step out the aircraft and onto the airstairs, the warm air hits me like a truck. If it wasn’t for the date, I’d swear that it’s summer, with temperatures around 24°C and barely any clouds. As much as I enjoy walking across the ramp to the terminal, I’ll admit, I’m glad about the air conditioning inside. Once I have my suitcase, I make my way to the airport train station, which is a little removed from the terminal but still easy enough to find, with a covered walkway leading straight to it. After a short train ride, I arrive at Graz Main Station, and quickly make my way to my hotel where, after a little delay at check-in, I drop off my luggage before heading out on a photo tour.

Graz has a special meaning for me. As I just mentioned, an aunt of mine used to live here. Nearly every summer for as long as I can remember, we used to come here to visit. These visits became rarer after we moved to Prague but even so, I’d still visit Graz every year or so, even after my aunt had moved to a retirement home in her home city of Judenburg. If anything, things picked up after I was enrolled in that boarding school in Bad Aussee. So to be back here after well over twenty years, yeah, it’s a very special feeling. A lot of the sights around me are intimately familiar, even after all this time. The Hauptplatz, Graz’s main square with its impressive city hall, the Herrengasse, the city’s main shopping street, or the Schlossberg, the fortified mountain that rises over the old city centre, are all like old friends in their own right. 

Graz's main square, the Hauptplatz. It's been a while...

The Schlossberg's clock tower looking over the city centre.

The Herrengasse is one of Graz's main shopping streets.

On the Schlossberg funicular.

The view over the city centre is quite impressive.

This rampart is part of the old fortifications of the Schlossberg.

Ironically, the clock tower isn't at the highest point of the Schlossberg.

Even with the heat haze, the views are just spectacular.

That sea urchin looking thing is actually the Kunsthaus, a contemporary art gallery.

I’ll have more time to spend in Graz after the weekend, so for this first visit, I decide to do something I haven’t done since I was a little kid: take the funicular up to the top of the Schlossberg. The views from up there in the evening sun are spectacular, and both my mirrorless camera and my iPhone camera get quite the workout. The city is spread out beneath you from up there, and the warm glow of this Friday evening in late September gives everything a certain almost magical touch. I could stay up there for hours but the early morning departure is beginning to get to me. I make my way down to the Schlossberg elevator, a glass lift that was installed in the mountain in 2000, and head back into the city. After a quick stop to get some cold drinks, and a quick dinner, I head to my hotel room to catch up on some of that lost sleep.

Day 2 – September 29th

View of Graz Main Station from my hotel room.

Yeah, about that… - I don’t know whether it is the constant exposure to aircon from the moment I got out of the taxi in Cork the previous day, or the sunburn that I’m pretty sure I’ve picked up again, but the hotel room is hot and stuffy for the entire night. As a result, it feels like the total amount of sleep amounts to something between nothing and sweet feck all. Thankfully, I don’t have an early morning departure, so I can take things a little easy before I make my way across the street from my hotel to the train station.

Prior to this trip, my last experience of Graz Main Station has been on the return trip of a rhetoric and public speaking competition that I had represented my school in as part of a team back in 2002. Back then, the station had been reduced to a hulk as part of a massive remodelling project, and I’d left Austria for what I’d thought would be the last time by the time it was finished. The result, well, it’s a result… For real though, while the artwork is certainly stunning, I can’t help but feel a little underwhelmed. The ticket offices are hidden away in two side wings and the main concourse just feels cold and unwelcoming, with just a whole bunch of solid walls and some eateries. The ÖBB Lounge, which I have access to with my 1st class ticket, continues this underwhelming trend, amounting to little more than a glorified broom cabinet hidden away behind a coffee shop. 

Well, I suppose it's art...

The ÖBB Lounge in Graz is nothing to write home about.

The coffee is good and the WiFi is fast and reliable though. That's this very blog post taking shape there.

It’s also poorly stocked and half of the coffee machines are out of action. Still, the one that does work produces some really great coffee, the chairs are comfortable and the WiFi is fast, so I can get some of the notes for this blog post typed up before I head out to my train. This train is EuroCity 216, running from Graz all the way to Saarbrücken in Germany, at least on the day that I travel. It is fully made up of Deutsche Bahn coaches, pulled by a DB class 101 electric locomotive, which isn’t really what I was hoping for, and I have a seat reservation in a six-seater compartment, something I hated even back when I was still a school kid. But luck turns out to be on my side, as I end up getting a full compartment to myself for the entirety of the trip to Stainach-Irdning.

It may look weird, but I think this was actually an InterCity service.

My train, EC 216, sitting underneath Graz's new platform roofs.

My home for the next two and a half hours.

Having an entire compartment to myself is something else, I have to admit.

A Česke Dráhy Railjet arrives from Prague...

...while my train pulls out of the station.

The shape of things to come.

The further north we get, the higher the mountains get.

All of this looks extremely familiar.

We depart Graz right on time and before we’ve even fully cleared the city limits, I’m already snapping pictures like crazy. Well, at least that’s what my notes say, but according to what I have in Lightroom, the total amount for the entire first section of our run, from Graz along the Mur valley to Leoben, is only fourteen. That’s probably because, while I do have some memories of this area, particularly the area between Gratkorn and Deutschfeistritz is one that my family drove through regularly in my younger days, this wasn’t one of my regular stomping grounds. 

This changes once we leave the city of Leoben. From here on until my destination in Bad Aussee, this is an area that I travelled through twice a week for five years, day & night, in blinding fog and under crystal clear skies, in the searing heat of some spectacular summers just as much as in the depths of winter, with the landscape buried under as much as a meter of snow in places. Almost every place name has a memory. St. Michael, Trieben, Rottenmann, all of these places bring up memories of events, of people, some of whom have long since drifted into the mists of distant memories, some of whom are still real and present to some degree. As my train rolls through these all too familiar landscapes under these clear blue skies, with all too familiar peaks on both sides of the Liesing & Palten valleys, for a moment, it feels like I could just close my eyes and see myself back in those last two months of the 2001/2002 school year, when my chances of graduating had been irrevocably smashed, but when, as a consequence, I’d been much freer to enjoy those last few really carefree months of my life. It was in this timespan, that some of my most lasting memories were formed, when I represented my school at that rhetoric competition I mentioned earlier, when I finally had the time and money, and more importantly the self-confidence to hit the town on the weekends. And yet, as close as those sensations are, they are separated from me by an impossibly large gulf of time. 

Approaching Selzthal.

Our train reverses here, from now on, the locomotive will be in the lead.

A regional service composed of an 1144 locomotive and a rake of CityShuttle coaches pulling into platform 2 at Selzthal. The station is built for far more traffic than it currently sees.

North of Selzthal, the mountains get significantly more rugged.

You don't get ten minute smoking breaks anymore these days...

Looking up the Enns valley, with the Grimming looming over the landscape.

Yep, the mountains are definitely getting more rugged.

This becomes increasingly clear as our train reaches Selzthal, and as my train will dwell here for about ten minutes, so will I. This junction station used to be a major hub in the Austrian rail network, and it still is for cargo trains, with a vast rail yard dwarfing the passenger facilities of the station. However, the passenger facilities, already oversized during my school years, are now only a shadow of their former self. The station’s characteristic H-shaped island platform one of only three stations built that way in Austria, and the only one to still retain it in 2023, allowed easy interchange for passengers on trains on any of the platforms. Local trains could end their services at the four terminal platforms while services that had to change directions, such as the EuroCity I’m traveling on, could easily move their engines from one end of the train to the other. Even in the early 2000s, this was still a regular occurrence. However, the advent of double-ended trainsets and driving trailers, including on my train, has all but eliminated the need for lengthy stops, and passenger services on a number of lines meeting at Selzthal have been drastically curtailed, foolishly so in my opinion. This leaves the station as a mere husk of its former self, its intricate platform buildings empty and its characteristic red canopy supports a faint echo Selzthal’s glory days.

As the train pulls out of the station in the reverse direction, we turn west and before long, we’re following the valley of the Enns, with the craggy limestone peaks of the Kalkalpen, the Northen Limestone Alps, heralding the beginning of what I think is the most beautiful part of the trip. And just as we pull into Liezen, the last station before my transfer at Stainach-Irdning, the imposing bulk of the Grimming comes into view. At a height of 2351 meters, and rising over 1700 meters over the surrounding terrain of the Enns valley, it absolutely dominates the landscape, and it’s a sight that I became abundantly familiar with back in my school days. That’s because the railway junction of Stainach-Irdning, where my connecting local train to Bad Aussee will leave from, lies effectively at the foot of this mountain, so every time I was going to, or leaving Bad Aussee, I would invariably have to come by here. Well, unless I was heading north, but that wasn’t going to happen this time around.

The train to Bad Aussee waiting at Stainach Irdning.

This is the Grimming. It's even more imposing in real life.

The Loser (the mountain in the background) is a clear indicator that you've arrived in Bad Aussee.

My train leaving Bad Aussee.

We arrive at Stainach-Irdning on time, and changing trains is as easy as walking across the platform, where the connecting service is already waiting. I barely have time to sit down before the train pulls out of the station and we start making our way up the northern slopes of the Enns valley and into the gorge that separates the Grimming from its easterly neighbours and which will serve as our ramp, as the line snakes upwards to rise almost two hundred meters. Our departure from Stainach coincides with the closing bell for some of the local schools in the area, so our 4024 “Talent” trainset is filled with school kids on their way home for the weekend. As we make our way through the valley, it once again feels like just closing my eyes would be enough to transport me back twenty years. The only thing that mars the experience is that it’s almost impossible to get a good shot out of the train window.

Well, this is an interesting hotel room. The wood is stone pine, which is very common throughout this region.

Yep, I've had much worse hotel rooms.

Is this really the end of September? Feels more like July.

I can't believe that I used to live and go to school here.

The walk to the hotel turns out to be a bit of a slog, especially since I only cop on to the fact that they offer a complementary transfer service after I’ve checked in. But hey, it’s just so ingrained to just leg it to where I need to go that I didn’t even think about it. As for the Hotel itself, it’s the Erzherzog Johann, a 4-Star resort hotel right in the middle of town. I mean, if I come all this way, I might as well be comfortable, right? And the room promises just that: Bright, airy, larger than I expected, and What. A. View! The windows and balcony look straight out at the 1800m high peak of the Zinken, a mountain that rises right behind Bad Aussee’s train station. And I spent five years here trying to get my secondary school degree? In a place where others would spend hundreds of thousands of Euros just to spend a week or two?

By the time I’ve sorted myself out, the trip of the last two days has caught up to me. Still, I take advantage of the extraordinarily mild weather to head out on a nice photo tour, and the shots are more than worth it. However, by the time I’m done with the tour, and grabbed a few bottles to drink and other small accoutrements, I’m just about ready to hit the sheets. After a final cup of coffee and a few final updates to the notes for this trip, I decide to turn in.

For part 2 of this series, click here!