View from Muenchen: Berchtesgaden und Königssee

Hello all, yet another tale to tell you, and yet again I have to delve into the murky depths of my not-to-recent memory to tell you. Let me take a moment to paint you a picture...

It's late February in southern Germany. It's a bright but cloudy day, the light filters through the clouds and shines off the snow laying thick on the ground. The air is cold and crisp, a dry cold that doesn't cling to you, but instead bounces playfully off one's cheeks and they walk. We've just stepped off the bus from Berchtesgaden, and we slowly make our way down the cobbled street; those of us with cameras are removing caps, trading lenses, and generally preparing for the day's events. As the road straightens out, we see Königssee stretch out before us.

The water is as clear and blue as you would expect to see in the Caribbean, albeit much, much colder. Ducks swim near the shore, the frigid waters not bothering them a bit. We linger here at the edge of the lake only for a little while, and then we're off, tramping down a trail that leads into the hills that surround the lake.

As we walk, the trail crackles under our steps. We don't even have to worry about muddying our boots; the ground is frozen solid. We follow the trail as it takes us up over the small town behind us, before wrapping around the hill, revealing a glimpse of the rest of the lake.

We slip and slide down a steep slope, clutching at a rickety handrail as we go, trying to get to a set of benches just off the trail. We rest here for a bit, snapping more pictures of the lake before making our way back up the precarious path. Before too long, the sun starts to shine through the clouds and we stop for a quick lunch.

After lunch it's only a short distance back to the bus, which takes us back to Berchtesgaden. With an hour before our train departs, we find a local Getränkladen and purchase ourselves some beer, before wandering around the town for a bit.

It's a quiet town on a cold day, and there isn't much to see as we walk the streets, becoming more boisterous with each sip. The locals laugh as the group of obviously American tourists strolls through their town, joking loudly as they go. Presently, we find ourselves back at the train station, and wait only a short time before catching our train back to München.