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Beer and Fucking Tour… massages and crashes…

Saturday morning, Bill and I got up and had a typical breakfast of fresh bread, fruit, boiled eggs, and cold cuts, then took a short walk through the countryside.  It was interesting to do that without the dogs with us.  Austria has lots of nature trails and we enjoyed walking through the woods without having to worry about our dogs going nuts.  I liked that there were helpful signs about the nature we might see during our walk.  My German is getting decent enough that I could understand some of it.

Breakfast…

They had a nice spread at the Moorhof.  I liked that the waitresses, almost everywhere we went, wore dirndls.

On the wall of the hotel… Dorfibm is actually the village where the Moorhof is.

It’s election time.

Cute little sign asking people to keep their dogs on a leash.  I translated the sign faster than Bill did, because I understood “deathly afraid”.  My dad used to wonder why I was “deathly afraid” (his words) of mushrooms when I was a child.  Blame my sadistic sisters.

The beginning of the trail.  Curiously, someone apparently lost their shorts.

Old Maypole.

We had massages scheduled for 11:00 and 11:30, so we made plans to stay close to the hotel.  Bill had some homework to do for his class.  One complaint we had about the Moorhof is that they use a “code” system for their Internet.  They give you a temporary code good for 24 hours and just one device.  It made things tough for us, because I am an Internet junkie and Bill had work to do.  But when he asked for an extra code, the hotel proprietor was fine with supplying one.  That was nice.

At 11:00, I went down to the “wellness area” in the hotel, which includes a pool with jets at one end, a solarium, sauna, steam room, and of course, the beer bath.  The massage therapist was finishing up with the younger lady we’d seen at dinner the first night.  When I went in for my massage, I was a little nervous, partly because Aunt Flow was in full swing and I was feeling a little icky.  Also, while I really do enjoy massages, I get nervous when people I don’t know touch me.  But since it was part of the package, I took off my shirt and laid down on the table.  The therapist was very good at her job.  She mentioned that she was just helping out over the weekend and works in Salzburg as she made my neck crack a few times.

Bill said that when she gave him his massage, she immediately found the area where he has arthritis in his shoulder.  She said it was very hard, though she worked to loosen it a bit.  I wish I had brought some euros to tip the therapist because I think she was expecting a tip.  Unfortunately, I never know what the etiquette is for this kind of thing in Europe.  In the US, it’s a given that you always tip service providers, but it’s not always like that here.  One time in Poland, I got a massage and seemed to insult the therapist by trying to give her too much.  But anyway, we got through the massages and were pretty relaxed… but then we got in the car and went in search of a store so I could pick up some essential Aunt Flow supplies and we could find lunch.

We finally found a Spar (Austrian grocery store) and I bought chocolate, wine, Godiva liqueur, and feminine hygiene supplies.  I almost beaned Bill while standing in line because he was being annoying and, let’s face it, I was crabby.  I would get crabbier as the day wore on and we started looking for lunch.  Although there are a few places in the area around the Moorhof, it really is pretty rural and sometimes parking is a challenge.  Also, I can be pretty indecisive about some things.

We drove around and Bill annoyed some Austrian drivers, who all seemed to have somewhere important to go and needed to pass us post haste.  The GPS kept sending us to places that were either closed or located on very narrow country roads.  At one point, we drove up a steep hill and literally almost crashed into a wedding, complete with a full brass band.  But then we passed the church and stopped at an abandoned gasthaus, which overlooked some truly beautiful countryside…

Wouldn’t I love to own land like this someday?

I knew we needed to find lunch soon, because on one very narrow country lane, Bill dodged one speedy Austrian driver, then was confronted by a large tractor pulling a trailer.  He exclaimed “Oh shit!” just as the tractor made a last minute left turn.

I suggested we head back to the hotel.  On the way back, we ended up in a little town called Handenberg.  As we drove down the main drag, we noticed a little hotel and a couple of guys sitting in the biergarten.  There was plenty of parking, too.  We pulled in and sat outside, enjoying the marvelous weather and a couple of beers.

Yet another dirndl clad lady at the Gasthaus Scharinger brought us this… I had tagliatelle with shrimps, zucchini, and cherry tomatoes.  Bill had pork again.  He likes swine.  This was a delicious lunch!

While we were sitting outside, several guys showed up wearing uniforms.  I had spotted one in the hotel lobby as I was on my way to the ladies room.  He had a tuba.  I correctly surmised that they were part of a band.  After they had lunch, they practiced and warmed up.  Several older men in different uniforms showed up; they looked like maybe they were military guys.  And then, after we had some apple strudel, Bill paid the check.  I’d swear we ran into the same wedding party whose wedding we almost crashed.  But I’m not certain about that.  I would have liked to have stayed and listened to the music.  I could see that the staff was setting up for an event and the folks who were gathered outside the hotel were all dressed up.

Austrian apple strudel.  It tasted kind of eggy

We had to get going, though, because at 5:00, we had a date with the beer spa!

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Beer and Fucking Tour… beer spa #1 at the Moorhof

So, finally it was time to try out the Moorhof’s beer spa.  Bill and I slipped into our bathing suits and I wrapped up in the robe I wisely brought with me (I don’t think they had them at the Moorhof).  The hotel has sauna towels, but we brought our own spa towels, which are huge and cover everything.  The nice lady who checked us in told us to wait by the door where the beer spa is (and you can tell which one it is because it says it’s only for beer spa patrons).  We waited patiently for her to come and get us started.

For beer spa patrons only!

Finally, we went into the little room where the fake beer keg looking bath is.  She had already prepared it with hot water and hops.  I got in first and sat on the side close to the wall, where there was a beer keg with spigots over the tub.  Unfortunately, they were just decorative.  Bill sat on the other side.  There were two dark beers waiting for us, included in the treatment.  She turned on the tub and told us she’d be back in 20 minutes.

Bill and I visited the beer baths in Chodovar, which is a beer spa in the Czech Republic.  That was a great experience and we really enjoyed ourselves.  I think we liked the Moorhof’s beer spa a little better.  For one thing, it was more private.  At Chodovar, there are a bunch of tubs in one room and people bathe at the same time, albeit it with sheets drawn for privacy.  The Moorhof had the one beer bath in the room we were in and I think there was another room with two or three more tubs for those in groups.  I liked that the tub was like a jacuzzi, too.  And the hops and stuff added to the water was definitely rough.  Some of it stuck to me when I got out of the bath.

The beer bath at Moorhof is hot and you definitely wouldn’t want to drink the beer used for the spa treatment.  It’s really more like a wort than actual beer.  But it’s relaxing and a lot of fun.

After thirty minutes, the lady came back, had us strip naked (and she averted her eyes so she didn’t see us in the buff), then wrapped us in sheets.  She escorted us to a wooden bed covered in oat straw that had a sheet over the straw.  We laid on the straw and she covered us with a blanket and turned out the light.  We laid there for thirty minutes.  Actually, I had to get up a little sooner than that because I had to answer the call of nature.  But again, it was very nice… very restful and relaxing and not itchy at all.  I was expecting the straw bed to make me sneeze or scratch, but it didn’t.  It was surprisingly comfortable and pleasant.

I don’t usually pose for pictures, but I made an exception…

Awww…

After we were finished with our treatments, we showered.  We really needed to shower because there was beer spa residue all over us and in our bathing suits.  Then we got changed and went to dinner, where we enjoyed four courses.  Each course included beer in the ingredients.  Three small beers were included with the dinner.

They thoughtfully translated for us.  

Cute little pils.

Beer soup.  It was very yummy, even if the color was a little iffy.

Beer batter fried broccoli?  Maybe the best way to eat it…

I didn’t eat much of the chicken and potato croquettes because I was getting full and wanted dessert.  It was good, though.

Beer pancakes with cranberries.

 

Remember in the first post of this series, I mentioned tour buses?  Well, there was one parked at the Moorhof on Saturday night.  I think it was full of young folks in a band of some sort.  We heard a few brass instruments playing scales.  This was the only tour group we encountered that consisted of students.  It was interesting to watch them, especially when the adults had to come in and herd some of the stragglers from the breakfast buffet the next morning.

The beer spa at the Moorhof was great!  But it paled in comparison to the Starkenberger Beer Pool.  Stay tuned for that post coming up soon.

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Beer and Fucking Tour… Welcome to Austria, land of profane place names!

After lunch, we sped down A8 toward Munich, then headed toward Salzburg as I fiddled with the sound system in my car.  The weather was beautiful and I was tempted to put the top down.  Bill was afraid something would fly out of the backseat, so I refrained.  I had noticed on the map of the area near Franking, there was a place called “Fucking”.  I thought that was funny and looked it up on Google.  Sure enough, people had visited and taken pictures… and yes, there had been quite a few folks who decided to steal the sign.

As it turned out, we didn’t have to go out of our way to visit Fucking.  It was on the way to Franking, and we drove right through the village.

And yes, I got a picture…  

I had been afraid that someone would harass me, but there was no one in sight when I took this photo.  In fact, the whole village of Fucking consists of maybe five or six houses.  We went through it so quickly that I didn’t get a chance to photograph the exit sign.  But anyway, yes, this is a real place and it’s pretty charming.  If you visit the Moorhof, you can cruise through Fucking too…  Also, you can read more about Fucking in earlier posts on this blog.

Anyway, after Fucking, we were soon close to our destination.  My amusement over unusual place names turned to awe as I noticed just how pretty the country is around the Moorhof.  Indeed, it reminded me a little of Sanford, North Carolina, which is a country town in the middle of North Carolina where Bill and I lived for two years.  Of course, near Franking, you can see the mighty Alps in the distance.

Approaching the Moorhof…

When we got to the rurally situated inn, we entered the lobby, which appeared to be deserted.  A kind woman answered when Bill finally hit the bell summoning her.  She spoke little English, but between Bill’s sucky German and her somewhat better English, we determined that we were assigned room 28.  We had booked the beer spa package, which included a partial (back) massage, a beer bath, the oat straw bed, and a four course beer inspired dinner on Saturday, which was the day of our treatment.

The entrance to the inn…

Looking around the hotel, I got a distinct 80s vibe.  It was quaint and cute, but a little old fashioned.  However, the staff was very kind and the prices were reasonable.  Because it was close to dinner time when we arrived, we opted to eat at the inn.  We had a choice of rotbarsch (ocean perch) or pork cutlets.  I had the fish and Bill had the pork.  This meal came with four courses and was priced at the bargain low sum of just 15 euros.

Bill and I, along with a family of five– grandparents, parents, and an adorable little girl, were the only ones around on Friday night.

Bill waits for dinner to start.

Super quaint dining room…

A little bar in the dining area.  They also have a very cozy Stuble on the other side of the hotel.

 

We start with a simple salad.

I pause to take a picture of the fireplace and mantle, circa 1986.  That explains a lot, actually.

Next was soup.  This was some kind of beef terrine served in a broth.  It was good.

My pumpkin seed encrusted rotbarsch with parsley potatoes and tartar sauce.

Bill’s pork cutlet with krauterbutter, vegetables and potato wedges.

The first of many beers.

Plum cake for dessert!

The local dark beer was a winner!

One thing I did that Bill didn’t do (and regretted) was pack my own pillow.  I have found that in a lot of traditional hotels, pillows are small and in short supply.  I like a couple of pillows when I sleep.  It turned out to be a good thing I brought my pillow because both places we stayed only offered one wimpy pillow per customer.

Also, I made a new discovery when I spotted this on the nightstand…

Just so you know… this is used to repel insects…  Plug it in and supposedly it keeps the beasties away.

 

At first, I wondered if it was a thin piece of chocolate.  Nope.

 

Bugs weren’t a huge problem in our room, but we did end up plugging that thing in on the second night after Bill left the balcony door open awhile.  It did seem to help and didn’t smell bad.

The bed was comfortable, aside from not having enough pillows, and the shower was surprisingly good.  It was a rainfall shower and was just heavenly.  The bathroom was the old style WC in a separate room and there was a hokey fake rock sticker on the cabinet.  But the shower made up for the room being a bit dated.  It was pretty awesome.

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Beer and Fucking Tour… getting off to a gassy start!

Apologies in advance to those who find crude stories and scatological humor disgusting.  On the other hand, those of you who know me will not be surprised by this story… or the others that will follow in this series.

Bill and I have just returned from our long weekend in Austria.  I dubbed this trip the Beer and Fucking Tour, not just because I want to be profane, but because we had plans to visit a couple of places in Austria with the word “fuck” in their names.  Of course, in German, “fuck” is not a bad word, but juvenile English speakers like Bill and me get a kick out of being harmlessly naughty, especially when it comes to using foul language.

Originally, we were going to visit Switzerland, but I started trying to decide where to stay and noticed how even average hotels cost an arm and a leg.  And I remembered we wanted to go to a couple of beer spa places in Austria.  I determined that we could string those visits into our trip, so that’s where the “beer” part of this tour comes in.

After dropping off our dogs at the kennel on Friday morning, Bill and I loaded up my Mini and headed toward Franking, Austria, a small town not far from Salzburg.  We were going there because I wanted to visit the Landhotel Moorhof, a traditional, Austrian, family run inn that offers beer baths.

I first heard about the Moorhof when we lived in Germany the first time and had hoped to go there then.  Unfortunately, we ran out of time and I was left wondering if we’d ever make it there for a visit.  When you live in Germany, it’s easy to steal away for a quick weekend in a country hotel.  From the United States, it’s a bit harder to plan visits in such out of the way places.  Your time is limited and you tend to want to see the bigger, “bucket list” stuff.  Now that we’re back in Germany for the time being, I decided to make visiting the Moorhof a priority.

To get to Austria from the Stuttgart area, you have to drive on the hellacious A8, a road that utterly defies the stereotypical German autobahn experience because it is perpetually backed up.  We did indeed run into some traffic on A8 as we headed toward our destination.  The heavy traffic made our first kilometers creep by.  As we traveled east, I started feeling like maybe I was about to get a visit from Aunt Flow.  It was also getting close to lunchtime.

Bill tends to stress over lunch because he knows that I get really cranky when my blood sugar drops.   It doesn’t take long before I’m in full on “hangry” mode.  He also has to keep an eye on the time because a lot of places in Germany stop serving lunch at 2:00.  We were not in danger of being too late for lunch as we approached the boundary between Baden-Württemberg and Bavaria, but I was ready for lunch and I needed to use the bathroom.  We stopped at what looked like a nice hotel with a restaurant, hoping to score a decent meal.

As we entered the restaurant, I commented that it reminded me a bit of a Shoney’s.  The lobby had lots of tacky souvenirs, wines, and elderly folks wandering around.  As a matter of fact, the place was teeming with people, many of whom appeared to be at an advanced age.  That didn’t really bother me much, except I couldn’t help but notice that there seemed to be few places to sit.  I told Bill I’d hit the restroom and then we could find a table.

When I got to the ladies room, I found it full of women already waiting to use the facilities.  The bathroom only had three stalls and one was out of order.  I took my place in line and waited.  Suddenly, one of the women using the toilet let out a tremendously loud fart.  My eyes widened and I happened to catch the expression on a German woman’s face.  She looked as surprised and ready to laugh as I did.

As I struggled not to crack up with embarrassing guffaws, I heard several loud plops as the woman proceeded to unabashedly unload what must have been a prodigious dump into the toilet.  Of course, hearing that made me giggle even more.  I noticed a couple of amused and disapproving looks on the faces of the women waiting with me, so I continued to try to maintain a straight face.  I failed miserably.  Suddenly, it occurred to me that if the stall with the farting woman opened up next, I’d soon be sitting in a very polluted place while I tended to my own business.  That realization sobered me somewhat.

Finally, it was my turn.  Thank God the stall that was free was not the one fouled by noxious emissions.  I went in and discovered that yes, indeed, Auntie Flow had decided to come along for the ride.  I tended to myself, washed my hands, and got the hell out of the ladies room so I could bust out laughing properly.

I found Bill and we wandered around the restaurant in vain, looking for a place to sit…  We finally ended up at the Burger King next door, where I had a perfectly terrible fast food burger that tasted like it had been sitting under a heat lamp for a half hour.  It was also the only non breakfast meal I ate during our trip that didn’t include beer.  But hey, at least once lunch was over, the bathroom was totally free.

When Bill and I got back in the car, I noticed a shitload of tour buses.  I didn’t realize that those would be the first of what would be many tour buses full of octogenarians touring the same areas we toured during our trip.

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