Gatwick to somewhere in the middle of the Tyrol via an evil empire or two and some good German bread

Take a look at a map, of Austria maybe...or perhaps go searching on Multi map. Innsbruck to Steinach isn't very far. It's about 30mins on the train, If you're buying maps in 1:50,000 scale, which we are, it's just over half of one - our whole journey should, if completed, take about 100. The paths we took, for the most part look easy enough, and generally led south, it's April and we felt well-prepared. Why then did it take us six days? Why are we back in Innsbruck as I write this? Have we given up already?

Eight days ago I was on my own sitting in a Pizza Hut justifying fears with one breath and denigrating them with the next. I was running through some useful and slightly less useful advice from friends strangers and the Internet. For instance, it is said in some quarters that when in Morocco you should line your sleeping bag with stones to deter thieves and keep one arm free when collecting firewood to thwart those out to nick a few dried sticks you've picked up off the ground. More usefully, we were advised that most of the maps of Italy are at least 30 years old and some are much older. This means that roads are often non-existent and footpaths changed beyond recognition. Elevations however are usually fine. Back to the bizarre, apparently in heavy snow you should kick your steps to ensure a sure footing and heel them on a descent - it's also possible to arrest a fall in heavy snow without an ice-axe like we'll ever need to know any of that...well, more on that particular one later.

The flight to Austria was wonderfully uneventful...with no queues at check-in, security, boarding, or disembarkation. We slept overnight at Gatwick and discovered I'd forgotten my penknife and that Julia just had too much stuff. We found that a 1988 FFr 20 Centime coin fits into slot on the luggage trolley. Don't ask me why I had a 20 Centime coin on me. Anyway, it was a 1/3-full easyjet flight to Innsbruck with a cute-talking airline steward advising those caught smoking they'd be asked to step outside.Slipping above the clouds the sun burst in almost below us, reminding me it was scarce 7am and I'd been awake almost all night and in fact most of the last week. Pasted in classic slept-in-your-clothes dank sweat and fighting my breakfast coffee mixed with general aeroplane judder I set myself the task of sleeping.

On the ground my FFr 20 Centime coin also worked for the slot in the baggage trolleys there "is there no end to it's usefulness" I asked of no-one in particular, Julia unhelpfully chipped in with "yes, you can't buy anything with it."

I don't get her point.

Going to book-in at the youth-hostel we glimpsed the snowy peaks that surround the town, setting alarm bells off that April was perhaps too early and reminding me our planning could've been more complete. We made use of €1 left luggage lockers in which I wanted to try my 20 Centime coin again but Julia rolled her eyes and gave me €1. I think she must believe we'll need it later for some higher purpose - I nodded and accepted her greater wisdom.

For those who've never visited, Innsbruck is a town manicured to a bright shine and I have yet to find anything one could describe as cheap, though almost everyone is cheerful. The Idyll was only briefly shattered once, as an elegantly dressed blond man almost tripped over a dogs lead when he wasn't paying attention. He let of a totally incongruous stream of expletives at the owners apology and stormed off in fury. He was probably just having a bad day, but I'm certainly not going to put winding-up the locals at the top of my TTD. Without further ado save having my card swallowed by a cash machine just because it felt like it we were on our way.

Deposited by bus at the Schloss Ambros with the target of walking to a nearby town called Igls by nightfall we were at each others throats within three minutes. Julia wanted to take a look at the Schloss (castle) and me wanting to get on. After a short shouting match Julia won and I sat down on a bench to sulk. I wrote at the time...

"It's already late on day 1 and we have precisely 0km under our belts right now. This "Castle" (glorified house, I think) didn't excite me at all so I'm sitting on a bench. Julia has gone off with her pack, which is a waste of energy..."

Not an auspicious start.

Well there followed some rather normal teething pains, working out how we liked to walk and how best to eek out a good nights sleep in rather low temperatures. We finally got to Igls in the middle of the next day realising we had forgotten a small non-essential groundsheet that would make life easier and that my sleeping bag in the space of one night has started falling apart and zip was broken. At least there was a helpful spring next to the Church where we filled up our water.

After lunch we made our way south in perfect weather for a couple of miles until BAM!...the entry from my dairy rather sums it up... "Hell, hell, hell!" I was wandering along perfectly happily one minute and the next I collapsed. I couldn't walk any further, I went cold, couldn't warm up and we just had to stop. Julia was fine and looked after me wonderfully, which was a humbling experience but much appreciated. The next day we sorted out some trail mix and realised that eating light breakfast lunch and dinner might be fine when sitting in front of the TV, but when walking in the sun with heavy packs, food with slightly more punch might be needed.

The countryside was beautiful, and after that minor disaster things started to look up, at the same time we started to get a new appreciation for the place. Here's a short section of my diary from that day...

"Stopped for water at next town, spring nr. church again - hoping this will prove a theme. Walking into town on an idyllic spring morning with church bells ringing out under a marble blue sky - for the first time today we're out of the trees and the sun instantly makes life OK. Walking down a steep road into the historic heart of this small village the Sunday bells break for a minute and almost instantly live music comes at us out of nowhere. Suddenly I am on edge, Julia says she recognises the piece - I know it and to hear it here, amidst all this beauty sends fear pulsing through my fingers. That piece, and all the hateful things it stands for - proudly bursting from this Austrian idyll reminds me of the dark heart of every paradise - The piece...the imperial theme from Star Wars. How could they?"

As the days went on we started adjusting and getting fitter. The trail mix and our new larger meals worked a treat. We started to cover more ground...my sleeping bag was starting to resemble a mis-shaped not-very-warm blanket but we felt it was getting warmer. We spent one night next to a broken down mill house in the middle of a forrest. Going inside we discovered it must've been abandoned for a long time. Julia didn't spot much beyond the old machinery, but I went in there with a torch and found carved initials and dates stretching back to World War II, some replete with Wermacht or SS unit numbers, and a 1945 Indian Army unit's murals too...I've got lots of photos of the hut, but can't really process them until I get time at a good computer and I don't know how many days/weeks/months away that is.

Happy that we were getting into the swing of things, the next morning we boldly marched on down a steep decline for about half an hour until we worked out it was precisely the wrong direction as it led us to a dead end. What comes down must go up.

Next time around I might actually get around to answering some of those questions at the top...I'm going to leave you with an example of the beautiful countryside we get every day...