Gemütlichkeit: A September Journey Through Austria and Southern Germany

There is a German word that does not translate cleanly into English, which is perhaps why it has been borrowed wholesale into the vocabularies of people who have spent time in this part of the world and found themselves unable to describe what they experienced without it. Gemütlichkeit. It means something like warmth, coziness, and a sense of belonging all at once. It is the feeling of a candlelit table in a wood paneled restaurant after a long day in the mountains. It is the smell of fresh bread and coffee in a small town square on a cool September morning. It is the particular ease that comes from being somewhere that has perfected the art of making people feel welcome. This trip through Austria and Southern Germany was soaked in it from beginning to end, and I came home feeling more restored than I had in years.

Salzburg and Mondsee

Salzburg charmed me completely and I was not entirely prepared for how much I would love it. It is a small city that wears its history and its beauty with an effortless confidence, the kind of place where you turn a corner and find yourself standing in front of something extraordinary without having been warned it was coming. The old town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is a tangle of baroque architecture and narrow lanes and flower boxes that seems almost too picturesque to be real. And of course there is the music. Salzburg is Mozart's birthplace and it knows it, but the reverence for classical music here feels genuine rather than performative. It is woven into the identity of the place in a way that is quietly thrilling for anyone who loves it.

I will also confess, without apology, that being in this region as a lifelong Sound of Music fan added an extra layer of delight. The hills really are alive, and standing in some of the landscapes that shaped that story made me feel like a very happy child all over again.

A short drive from Salzburg brought us to Mondsee, one of the jewel like lakes of the Salzkammergut region, and it was exactly the kind of detour that makes a trip. The lake is impossibly blue, the surrounding mountains are reflected in it on calm days with almost mirror like precision, and the little village on its shore has a quietness and beauty that felt like a reward for paying attention. The church in Mondsee, made famous as the wedding scene in The Sound of Music, is as lovely in person as it is on screen.

Berchtesgaden

Crossing into Bavaria brought us to Berchtesgaden, a town tucked so deeply into the Alps that it feels like it exists in its own private world. The star of the visit was Königssee, one of the cleanest and most dramatically beautiful lakes in all of Germany. Surrounded on nearly all sides by sheer mountain walls that plunge straight into the water, it is accessible only by electric boat, which keeps it serene and unspoiled in a way that feels almost miraculous. We glided across it in near silence, the mountains reflected perfectly in the still water around us, and I remember thinking that some places are so beautiful they feel almost like a responsibility. Like you owe it to them to be fully present.

Munich and Oktoberfest

From the quiet of Berchtesgaden we plunged headfirst into the magnificent chaos of Munich during Oktoberfest, which was exactly as wonderful and overwhelming as advertised. A little history: Oktoberfest began in 1810 as a public celebration of the marriage of Crown Prince Ludwig of Bavaria to Princess Therese of Saxony-Hildburghausen. The citizens of Munich were invited to join the festivities on the fields in front of the city gates, horse races were held, and the tradition stuck. What began as a royal wedding celebration has since grown into the largest folk festival in the world, drawing millions of visitors to Munich every year for sixteen days of beer, food, music, and Bavarian tradition in its most exuberant form. The beer halls are enormous and loud and full of people in dirndls and lederhosen raising liter steins with a collective joy that is genuinely infectious. It is an experience unlike anything else, and Munich itself, beyond the festival, is a city of real substance and beauty that deserves more time than Oktoberfest visitors typically give it.

Neuschwanstein

No trip through Bavaria is complete without Neuschwanstein, the fairy tale castle commissioned by the eccentric King Ludwig II in the nineteenth century and perched so dramatically on its rocky outcrop above the village of Hohenschwangau that it looks like it was placed there by someone who had read too many legends and decided to build one. It is, famously, the castle that inspired Walt Disney's Sleeping Beauty castle, and standing in front of it you understand immediately why. It is outrageous and romantic and completely wonderful, and the views from the bridge above it, looking back at the castle framed by the Alpine forests and the lakes below, are among the most photographed in all of Europe for very good reason.

Innsbruck

And then there was Innsbruck. I want to be careful here not to oversell it, but I also want to be honest: Innsbruck stopped me in a way that very few places do. The Austrian Tyrolean capital sits in a valley completely encircled by the Alps, which means that wherever you stand in the city, in whatever direction you look, there are mountains. Not distant mountains on a horizon. Mountains right there, immediate and enormous and breathtaking, framing every street and every square and every casual glance out of a café window. The old town is warm and beautifully preserved, full of arcaded medieval streets and painted facades and that unmistakable Alpine gemütlichkeit. We went up into the mountains above the city, which I cannot recommend strongly enough, and stood looking down at Innsbruck spread out in its valley below us with the peaks rising on every side. It is one of the most stunning views I have ever seen and I include it among a growing list of moments from a life spent trying to pay attention to the world.

Baden-Württemberg

We ended, as we so often do, in Baden-Württemberg, with family and coffee and cake and the particular ease of being somewhere that knows you. After the grandeur and stimulation of everything that had come before, settling into the warmth of my family's homes felt like the perfect landing. Gemütlichkeit in its purest and most personal form.

What This Trip Gave Me

I have been thinking about that word ever since I came home. Gemütlichkeit. What it really describes, underneath the coziness and the warm rooms and the good food, is a feeling of being held by a place and the people in it. That is what this corner of the world does better than almost anywhere I have ever been. And it is, not coincidentally, what I try to create in every session with every student. A place that feels safe and warm and welcoming enough that real learning can actually happen. You cannot do your best work when you do not feel held. I learned that in a classroom. Austria and Bavaria reminded me of it all over again.