School Journey to Austria, 1960
During the Summer holidays, I took part in the school journey to Zell am See in Austria.
The party of about forty boys and three members of staff who accompanied us (Mr. Graham, Mr. Matthews and Mr. Smeaton) boarded the Dover-Ostend ferry on the afternoon of Monday, 27th July. After we had had a rather cold and damp crossing, the yellow trams of Ostend came into sight. That evening we were all aboard the "Tauern" Express, and speeding through Begium. I doubt if anyone on the trip was awake later on between Bonn and Mainz, but everyone saw the bright lights of Bruxelles, the Belgian capital. Then the train rushed past Mannheim, Stuttgart and Ulm.
It was late on Tuesday morning when we crossed from Germany into Austria, and early in the afternoon when we stopped at Salzburg to stretch our legs. However, the train was shunted "when we weren't looking", and over half the boys and the three masters were left on the platform as the train, our luggage, and a handful of boys left the station. We bundled into the second of our divided train and gave chase. At Bischofshofen we found that the boys in the first train had got off all our luggage and were waiting for us on the platform. We caught the connecting train to Zell am See, and disembarked looking for all the world like a bunch of refugees from an all night party.
Zell am See is a beautiful little town on the shores of a lake with mountains looming up on all sides. The hotel we stayed at, the "Gasthof Schweizerhof", was situated very near the lakeside, and commanded a wide view of the surrounding scenery.
One of the first tours was a walk round the lake, which took longer than we had envisaged. Usually on a day when there were no longer tours, the boys could have the morning free; so, after breakfast (if coffee and rolls can be called a breakfast) we would roam about the town, spending money as fast as we got it.
Among the longer tours we undertook was one to Salzburg, the scene of our previous excitement, and one to "Grossglockner", Osterreich's hochster berg which means Austria's highest mountain. Unfortunately there was plenty of low cloud and mist, so we could not see it.
The climax of our holiday was when we went to a salt-mine at Hallein. We went to the top of the mountain, in the middle of which was the mine, reached by a cable-car, called a Salzberbahn. At the top we changed into protective clothing, which looked like a cross between a chef's and a doctor's uniform. Eventually, we started our tour of the workings of the mine. We very soon learned why we were wearing protective clothing.
In this mine, instead of having a shaft to go to the lower workings, we had a series of long slides. We sat on a long wooden trough, and slid down in a line, clinging to the person in front for dear life. There was a guide in front and at the back of the group using the slide at that time, and the front one braked us by getting hold of the ropes at his side. At the end of the first slide we were feeling very hot in a certain place, but life was to get much hotter in the next half-hour.
During one part of the tour we passed under the Austrian-German border, and in another part of the mine we went across a salt lake in a boat. At the end of the tour, we made our exit in, or rather on, a small train which had rolled faster and faster down a shallow but long hill. When we came out we had our photographs taken. That photograph I shall always treasure - to remind me of what a sight I must have looked.
Now for some of the little things that I feel I must mention.
If ever you go to Austria, beware of the beds. They may seem to be quite firm, and they might well be, but there is always the chance that if treated without respect they will collapse, as R. Score found out.
The Austrians must be a race of hardy people, for the beds had only a sheet and eiderdown as a covering. In my room there was only one set o f twin beds put together like a double, but the coverings were of the type meant for a single bed. As a result our covers came off when we turned in the night. My room-mate had a very bad habit of kicking me in the ribs with his cold feet once I had got to sleep. I cannot yet make out why he seemed hurt after I had kicked him back.
The journey back was uneventful, apart from our nearly missing the train at the station and having to wait nearly four hours for the next boat after missing the 11 a.m. one, and just catching the train to Dover for Victoria. We arrived at some time in the evening, and heard that heavy rain had flooded parts of the country.
Here, I would like to thank the three masters who managed the party so well, and who made it such a success. Also, I would like to thank Mr. Matthews for undertaking the task of looking after our holiday money, so saving us much trouble.
Article courtesy of M.G. Jordan, VI, taken from The Barnsburian school magazine. With thanks to Barry Page and Alan Dawson.
The party of about forty boys and three members of staff who accompanied us (Mr. Graham, Mr. Matthews and Mr. Smeaton) boarded the Dover-Ostend ferry on the afternoon of Monday, 27th July. After we had had a rather cold and damp crossing, the yellow trams of Ostend came into sight. That evening we were all aboard the "Tauern" Express, and speeding through Begium. I doubt if anyone on the trip was awake later on between Bonn and Mainz, but everyone saw the bright lights of Bruxelles, the Belgian capital. Then the train rushed past Mannheim, Stuttgart and Ulm.
It was late on Tuesday morning when we crossed from Germany into Austria, and early in the afternoon when we stopped at Salzburg to stretch our legs. However, the train was shunted "when we weren't looking", and over half the boys and the three masters were left on the platform as the train, our luggage, and a handful of boys left the station. We bundled into the second of our divided train and gave chase. At Bischofshofen we found that the boys in the first train had got off all our luggage and were waiting for us on the platform. We caught the connecting train to Zell am See, and disembarked looking for all the world like a bunch of refugees from an all night party.
Zell am See is a beautiful little town on the shores of a lake with mountains looming up on all sides. The hotel we stayed at, the "Gasthof Schweizerhof", was situated very near the lakeside, and commanded a wide view of the surrounding scenery.
One of the first tours was a walk round the lake, which took longer than we had envisaged. Usually on a day when there were no longer tours, the boys could have the morning free; so, after breakfast (if coffee and rolls can be called a breakfast) we would roam about the town, spending money as fast as we got it.
Among the longer tours we undertook was one to Salzburg, the scene of our previous excitement, and one to "Grossglockner", Osterreich's hochster berg which means Austria's highest mountain. Unfortunately there was plenty of low cloud and mist, so we could not see it.
The climax of our holiday was when we went to a salt-mine at Hallein. We went to the top of the mountain, in the middle of which was the mine, reached by a cable-car, called a Salzberbahn. At the top we changed into protective clothing, which looked like a cross between a chef's and a doctor's uniform. Eventually, we started our tour of the workings of the mine. We very soon learned why we were wearing protective clothing.
In this mine, instead of having a shaft to go to the lower workings, we had a series of long slides. We sat on a long wooden trough, and slid down in a line, clinging to the person in front for dear life. There was a guide in front and at the back of the group using the slide at that time, and the front one braked us by getting hold of the ropes at his side. At the end of the first slide we were feeling very hot in a certain place, but life was to get much hotter in the next half-hour.
During one part of the tour we passed under the Austrian-German border, and in another part of the mine we went across a salt lake in a boat. At the end of the tour, we made our exit in, or rather on, a small train which had rolled faster and faster down a shallow but long hill. When we came out we had our photographs taken. That photograph I shall always treasure - to remind me of what a sight I must have looked.
Now for some of the little things that I feel I must mention.
If ever you go to Austria, beware of the beds. They may seem to be quite firm, and they might well be, but there is always the chance that if treated without respect they will collapse, as R. Score found out.
The Austrians must be a race of hardy people, for the beds had only a sheet and eiderdown as a covering. In my room there was only one set o f twin beds put together like a double, but the coverings were of the type meant for a single bed. As a result our covers came off when we turned in the night. My room-mate had a very bad habit of kicking me in the ribs with his cold feet once I had got to sleep. I cannot yet make out why he seemed hurt after I had kicked him back.
The journey back was uneventful, apart from our nearly missing the train at the station and having to wait nearly four hours for the next boat after missing the 11 a.m. one, and just catching the train to Dover for Victoria. We arrived at some time in the evening, and heard that heavy rain had flooded parts of the country.
Here, I would like to thank the three masters who managed the party so well, and who made it such a success. Also, I would like to thank Mr. Matthews for undertaking the task of looking after our holiday money, so saving us much trouble.
Article courtesy of M.G. Jordan, VI, taken from The Barnsburian school magazine. With thanks to Barry Page and Alan Dawson.
Alan Dawson
In the photo George Mackay is next to me (my left shoulder) and I think he lived in Clephane Road. Bottom left of the photo (as looking at it) is a bloke called Cramp, can't remember his first name but he was the same year as me (Class of '57). He lived Plough Road by Eden Grove.
The ride down on the sledge was frightening as the safety precautions were primitive - holding on to a rope! At the bottom the area was cavernous and if I recall correctly there was a salt lake and stalactites. It may be that as one sledge went down another came up, but I cannot be sure of this.
In the photo George Mackay is next to me (my left shoulder) and I think he lived in Clephane Road. Bottom left of the photo (as looking at it) is a bloke called Cramp, can't remember his first name but he was the same year as me (Class of '57). He lived Plough Road by Eden Grove.
The ride down on the sledge was frightening as the safety precautions were primitive - holding on to a rope! At the bottom the area was cavernous and if I recall correctly there was a salt lake and stalactites. It may be that as one sledge went down another came up, but I cannot be sure of this.