THE FASTER LANE / TYLER BRÛLÉ
High praise
Do you ever have fantasies about disappearing? Daydreams about quietly slipping out of your current routine and re-emerging somewhere else? I’m not talking rolling the car into the ditch, petrol canisters, fireballs, forensic cordons and faked death territory. I’m thinking something gentler, less dramatic and in a setting that’s soothing, remote, wholesome, green but not New Zealand or the tip of Vancouver Island.
On Monday I took advantage of (most of) Schengen’s borders reopening and hit the road – destination: the Bregenzerwald. If you’re not familiar with this little patch of paradise, worry not; I certainly wasn’t. While Monocle has covered the Austrian state of Vorarlberg on many occasions (see issue 131, which was devoted to the republic) and I’ve been to Lech and passed through Bregenz, I’ve never made the short detour to the uplands around Lake Constance.
Just across the Swiss border, the motorway leads you to a 4km-longtunnel that climbs steeply and steadily up to the Bregenzerwald. As Monday was a bit drizzly and misty, we left the damp lowlands and suddenly emerged in a crisp, sharply defined wonderland of rolling hills, dense forests, roaring streams, immaculate farms and outstanding architecture.
After 10 minutes of winding roads, curious cows and one boxy, modern wood farmhouse after another, I remarked to my navigator, Mats, that we definitely weren’t in Switzerland; it didn’t feel like Austria and had very little to do with Bavaria – but somehow it felt comfortably familiar. After another 10 minutes we entered the town of Bezau and followed the winding road that took us past handsome carpentry studios, well appointed shops, little food stands and welcoming cake shops. In the town centre we pulled up at the Hotel Post, parked the car and checked in. In a woody dining room we grabbed a quick lunch and then donned rain jackets and headgear for a wander around the town.
“There’s something very Japan about this place, no?” I said to Mats. “The use of wood everywhere; the scale; the river running through the town centre; the cleanliness; the silence and the style of carpentry – it all reminds you of being in a nice little onsen town in Fukuoka, perhaps.” Mats agreed and, as is always the case in these situations, we started thinking about what life could be like in the Bregenzerwald. Was this the place to buy a farm and write books and raise donkeys? Didn’t the village need a little kiosk and bookshop?
Before dinner we were joined by the property’s owner, Susanne Kaufmann (also of skin- and personal-care fame). We enjoyed a round of drinks, a quick tutorial on the region and a gentle scolding about the shortness of our stay.
“Next time we’re doing a proper tour to visit some of my favourite places but let’s catch up at my son’s new little coffee shop in the morning for a few tips,” she said.
Over coffee at about 10.00, Frau Kaufmann teased us with more ideas about the things we’d be missing. As I listened to her list of the wine and clothing shops we should visit in Bregenz and Dornbirn, I was distracted by the comfort of the chair I was sitting in.
“Are these vintage and reupholstered?” I said, interrupting. “Or are they new?”
“They’re from a little carpentry shop down the road,” she said. “One brother does the woodwork at Tischlerei Mohr and, a bit further down, the other brother does the upholstery at Mohr Polster.”
Thirty minutes later I was already at the second brother’s shop choosing loden fabrics for the four chairs I had just ordered; any regional wood you’d like, an array of fabrics and five weeks manufacturing and delivery time to Zürich.
Outside, a large rooster was pacing around my car, the clouds were lifting, the stream was chattering over the rocks and I felt as though I might be in Yufuin or another small town in Kyushu. As I drove back to Bezau to collect Mats, I tried to recall the last time I felt properly removed from all that’s familiar and expected – particularly in the heart of Europe. I drew a blank.
Should you want to escape for a weekend – or for good – take a journey through that magic little tunnel just across the Swiss and German frontiers.
