Cuckoo

Three years ago we spent a couple of weeks hut-to-hut hiking in the Austrian and Italian Alps and planned the last section of this trip to relive the joy we experienced of hiking the high country with the amenities of the civilized European hut system.

Before leaving Lake Bled we learned that, in addition to the weather not cooperating, most Slovenian huts don't open until July, but a helpful tourist info office guide showed us a route in Triglav National Park. As we started up the trail we could hear cow bells and a cuckoo bird (sounds just like the clock!) and it felt like a Disney cliche of the Alps. What could be next, a yodeling accordion player?

After an hour of climbing we came to our first hut--just in time for lunch. And then the rude awakening began: we weren't in Austria. No Kaiserschmarrn (my favorite Austrian dish of sweet pancakes chopped up and served with jam) even though we were only a few miles, as the cuckoo bird flies, from Austria.

As if to appease me, the hut manager pulled out his accordion and played a few oompah tunes as we headed back out on the trail. The wildflowers cheered us along the rocky and steep path as we climbed ever higher.