Snowy break in Austria

Core memories? Maybe

Some trips meet your expectations, but others go completely overboard and shatter them completely. Austria had been on my bucket list for a while now. I have grown hearing about Sisi’s stories, all the grand imperial streets, imposing buildings touched with golden accents and (more recently) the coffeehouses, always had me wondering what the city had to offer.

Back in February, during the mid term break at school, we flew to Austria with a simpler goal though – see some snow! The girls had never seen snow and we wanted to give them that experience, even a few patches of snow on the side of the street would be enough! We weren’t asking for much. The weather forecasts were bleak. By the time we were about to leave Lisbon, we’d already made peace with a no-snow trip, but still a wonderful one, nonetheless!

Our wishes came true though, as Austria had one of the biggest snow falls in recent years, that started on our second day in the country. So much so that, while we were enjoying the 10~30 cm of snow, the airport dived into chaos and many flights, inbound and outbound, were cancelled, including ours. You’ll be glad to know we were fully refunded by Austrian Airlines, of everything we spent on the extra day we had to stay in Vienna. It was safe to say we weren’t completely devastated by spending another day surrounded by snow though.

First steps in Vienna

Our first day in Vienna we just strolled around and wandered. The streets and the buildings and the squares did not disappoint. And when we saw the tiny bits of snow on the ground, the girls were ecstatic, and I thought ‘yay, mission accomplished!’. Little did I know…

Hallstat: where the magic happens

The following day we took the train to Hallstatt, a UNESCO World Heritage village of just over 700 people, tucked between a pristine lake and big mountain cliffs in the Salzkammergut region, between Salzburg and Graz.

While on the train it started really snowing. And I mean proper snowflakes that swirl around and everything! I was thoroughly enjoying it! And the girls kept asking if they could do a snowman outside, that was their one wish.

From the train station, a small ferry takes you across the Hallstätter See to the village itself, and there is something quietly cinematic about arriving by water, with the mountains rising around you and the white rooftops coming slowly into focus. It was properly snowing when we got to the village. Even I hadn’t seen so much snow falling like that.

Our youngest was uncontainable. Gloves off within minutes. She wanted to feel it, touch every surface, gather it in her palms before it could melt. She made snowballs, launched them at her sister, collected handfuls just to watch them compress and crunch, and asked us to pick up ice stalactites from the low hanging roofs, because they were ‘such perfect magic wands!‘. Right up until we left, she was the one still seeking it out, still amazed, enjoying every single second.

The village is quite small, one that you can walk to and fro in about 20 minutes, but evert single minute is worth it. Narrow lanes, wooden balconies hung with snow and that sort of feel tucked naturally into the mountains, the faint slosh of the lake and its ducks… it’s the kind of place that makes you lower your voice without knowing why. Or maybe it’s all the signs telling turists to be quiet. Hallstat is quite touristic, especially during the day. We stayed at an apartment that had a gorgeous view of both the lake and the mountains, and we woke up with the sunlight and the sound of the snow melting all around us. I didn’t know I was missing that sound. It’s just so heartwarming and wholesome. The girls made did their snowman on our small backyard, and we had a snowball fight, of course. Magic, I tell you.

Back to a snowy Vienna

We then travelled back to Vienna where we got even more snow, and some nice strolls through the city and the Museum of Natural History.

What we brought home

Hallstat and Vienna gave us more than what we asked for. The snow delivered beyond our expectations, and even the chaos of the cancelled flight turned into a gift of extra hours in a city we weren’t ready to leave yet.

But what I keep coming back to is so much simpler than any of that: watching my daughters take off their gloves to touch the snow. Their tongues out, facing the sky, to pick up snowflakes. The snowman in the backyard. Waking up to the sound of a mountain morning. The soundless snow falling. The crunch of ice under my footsteps.

There’s a particular kind of joy in giving your children something they’ve never experienced before and watching them meet it with pure, uncomplicated awe.

That’s the one you take home. The one that stays.

Core memories: unlocked.