The Hans-Wödl-Hütte must be located in a very nice place. There is a lake next to it, and a lake below, and another lake above. It must be surrounded by really high and beautiful mountains. The problem is, with the fog like the one today, sometimes I could hardly see the stones to step on five meters in front of me. And I really needed to see them, since the ascend to the hut is very steep, and the descend is almost dangerous.
At times I could not see the Brettljause either, but that is because the generator failure from time to time turned the lights inside the hut off. There was not much to see, though: just a “Hauswurst” sausage cut into two, a few slices of Speck, a few slices of unexceptional cheese and a rather good Verhackertes mixed with onions. It was a very basic Brettljause, which could be expected from a hut the only way of delivery to which is via a goods-only cable car.
Considering the tough conditions, it would be unfair to criticize the hut’s leaseholder. Especially since he provided the aphorism of the day by translating Senf (mustard) to an English-speaking couple as “It’s like ketchup, but different.”
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