The morning brings rain. It’s a good a day as any to be on the road – it’s time to leave the peace of the Wachau Valley. The drive out is surprisingly busy, even if it is largely farmland dotted with the occasional village.
We farewell the last of the vine plantings, the last of the grand houses on high, many of which have been converted to hotels.
We’re inching our way to Vienna, timing our entry to avoid as much as possible of the weekend rush. Set on the Danube some 50 km out of Vienna, Tulln makes a perfect final stop.
With an abundance of gardens and flowers, it’s easy to see why Tulln is known as “Blumenstadt” – the City of Flowers.
We walk in through the gardens, in a rare break in between showers. The up side to the rain though, is that we have the path along the Danube largely to ourselves.
It’s said there are beavers here, and I can see evidence of an occasional mini dam, but no sleek heads emerge as proof.
Tulln is indeed strewn with flowers, much to the delight of the local bugs. Bumbles a plenty too.
It’s a pretty spot, with a lovely Rathouse
(town hall, and also possibly one of the best names, ever), town square and many fountains.
We potter for a while, but the call of coffee and cake is too strong. The creme schnitte are excellent, and who needs sleep anyway?
With black clouds rolling back in, it’s time to head home. Naturally I’m dragged most of the way – this is my favourite lighting, last afternoon sun through black skies.
Himself makes an excellent stir-fry for dinner – prawns with garlic and black pepper. We’re both having withdrawals from Asian food.