A forrest that is slowing down your brain.
This region is probably the nicest ass of Austria. Located in the west, this alpine forest with silent mountains called “Bregenzerwald” is hiding behind the busy Rhine Valley at Lake Constance, where Austria is kissing Switzerland, Liechtenstein, and Germany all at the same time.
Text & Photos: Hanneso
Our base camp for this journey of discovery is the Halwina Hideaway — an old farmhouse that decided to give it another go. High-quality yet grounded, it has spruced itself up after a total renovation and waits perched slightly elevated at the edge of the village of Sibratsgfäll, where during the day you see more cows than cars driving by.
It is midsummer and unusually hot. Inside the Halwina, the air is delightfully cool, and the fresh apple strudel waiting on the solid wooden table as a sweet welcome is just as lukewarm as we remember it from our grandmothers. Regional timber and modern design dominate throughout the house. A high-quality blend of tradition and modernity was created here.
Defying the cozy temptation to stay put, we head out for a short evening hike up to the alpine pasture above the Halwina. We stroll along the small road and get our first impression of this stunning corner of the Alps. By the roadside stands the Schiefe Haus (Leaning House), a living witness to the geological forces of the Alpine region. Slope movements have caused it to tilt menacingly — almost as if leaning forward to catch a better view into the valley. You can hardly blame it.
At the neighboring farm, children play happily with giant soap bubbles until they pop in the evening sun. I hope they treat their dreams the same way later in life: if one pops, simply keep creating new ones.
On the way to the pasture, two horses nuzzle together, and we too are slowly getting thirsty. Further up, a lively Vorarlberg flag dancing in the wind announces our destination.
At the Wildries Alm, we ask the legendary host what is particularly good on the menu. Her smiling answer is "Everything" — and we believe her immediately.
It is still very warm, and after the apple strudel we are not genuinely hungry, so we order the house sausage and the cheese salad accompanied by two small local beers.
She walks off, her dirndl enhancing her bell-like gait of pure composure, while the sky slowly dips into the soft hues of an Aperol twilight.
Well-nourished, we set off and hike west through forests and meadows. The cows notice our camera and pose elegantly in the evening light, as if hoping for a modeling contract.
As the sound of their bells slowly fades into the background, that soothing stillness that cradles the Bregenzerwald in so many places spreads once more.
Further down, a tractor greedily swallows the long rows of prepared hay. Resembling a giant spider, it wraps the fodder at its rear end into plastic-encased bundles of energy, later to be served to the cows to produce the finest hay milk.
With a touch of nostalgia, I think to myself: it won't be long before agricultural robots equipped with artificial intelligence handle all of this without human involvement. Though perhaps in places like this, it will take a few extra years.
Behind the relaxed trees, the evening sun gleams vividly, signaling a spectacle. Like a massive golden vinyl record, the sun sinks into the horizon while a flock of crows sets itself dramatically against it.
The scene becomes truly magical when you realize that the sun is not actually setting — rather, we are spinning away from it at roughly 1,000 km/h. How small we really are, and how improbable it is that on this sphere floating in nothingness, places as beautiful as the Bregenzerwald can even exist.
Humbled and grateful, we are already hatching plans for our next day in this paradise on our final steps back to the Halwina.
We wonder how it is to live here.
We will find out later.
