Vermont considers itself a mountainous state. I’d proudly called myself a Green Mountain girl growing up. I’d proudly looked out at the mountains visible everywhere I turned …
… until I took a trip out west after my college graduation, took in my first glimpse of the Rockies, and promptly realized that my home state was home to hills with a bit of an identity complex.
The Rockies? Now those were mountains.
They were still my standard when I set off to discover the Alps. A day trip to Salzburg, nestled in the Alps.
Bring them on.
It was foggy as the bus wound its way from Linz toward Salzburg, and we were all … sullen isn’t the right word, because we were all trying to be polite. Disappointed doesn’t quite hit the right note. Imagine the space in between, and that would capture it.
Our trip leader wouldn’t have any of it, though, as he cheerfully recounted moments in Salzburg’s history as we traveled along. Mozart! The Sound of Music! Good times, fine fun for all …
“WHOA!”
Every single person on the bus said it at the same exact moment, as the fog dissipated and we realized that the Alps had unsuspectingly wrapped themselves around us. Dark blue crags beneath a brighter blue sky. Sharp points, jagged lines, absolutely breathtaking.
And once again, the bar was raised. These were mountains.
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