We were three in number, a jeweller from Copenhagen, a Viennese silversmith, and myself, who started from Vienna to walk to Paris. We were all in tolerable feather as to funds. I was possessed of about seventy guldens (seven pounds), and a little packet of fifty dozens of piercing-saws, a trading speculation, which I hoped to smuggle over the French frontier in my boots. I was better provided in all respects than on any of my former journeys. We had forwarded our boxes to Strassburg, our knapsacks were light, and we wore stout walking shoes with scarcely any heels, and had prepared some well-boiled linen wrappers, intended, when smeared with tallow, to serve the purpose of socks. They effectually prevent blisters, and can be readily washed in any running stream. Our first stage was by steam on the Danube to Linz, the capital of Upper Austria; and we took our departure from Nussdorf amid the valedictions and kisses of some thirty male friends, each of whom saluted us thrice—on each cheek, and on the lips, for this is the true German fashion, and may not be slighted or avoided.
A voyage on the water may seem a curious commencement of a foot journey; but the fact is, that no one knows better than the tramp that a railway or a steamboat is always cheaper than shoe-leather and time; and no doubt as these new means of progress increase in number they will entirely change the character of German trade-wanderings. From Vienna to Linz is, in round numbers, a distance of one hundred and fifty English miles, and this one vessel, the “Karl,” got over in two days and a night. The wind was against us, and it must be remembered that it is all up stream. The Danube is upon the whole a melancholy river, of a sullen encroaching character, for its whole course is marked by over-floodings and their consequent desolation. The passage cost ten florins, twenty-five kreutzers, or eight shillings and fourpence, and we slept on the table below, on deck, or not at all, as we best could.
Our real starting-point on tramp was Linz, whence we pursued our way through Wells, Gmunden, Ebensee, and Ishl to Salzburg, in which beautiful city we rested for a day and half. We steamed across lake Traun from Gmunden, and paid a fare of twenty-five kreutzers, or fourpence. From Salzburg we pushed on to Hallein, to visit the salt mines there, and thence diverged still further from the beaten route for the sake of seeing the water-fall of Golling—the stern terrors of the Œfen—and dream away an hour upon the beautiful and romantic waters of Königsee, the King’s Lake. We had crossed the frontier of Bavaria near Hallein, and, having loitered so long among the delightful scenery of its neighbourhood, we now hurried on towards Munich, through Reichenhall, Fraunstein, Weisham, Rosenheim, Aibling, and Peiss. Thirsty and weary, we overtook a timber waggon when within eight miles of the capital, and made a bargain with the driver to carry us forward to our destination for six kreutzers, about one penny, each; and upon the unhewn timber of the springless log-waggon we rode into Munich. We had been already fourteen days upon the road, ten of which had been spent on tramp, advancing at an average rate of twenty-five miles a day. From Linz to Munich, by the circuitous route we had taken, I reckon in round numbers at two hundred and fifty miles. My share of the expenses amounted to thirty-six florins, forty kreutzers, say one pound nine shillings in English money, or an average outlay of two shillings a day. It may be added, that many of our expenses were those of ordinary foot-tourists, rather than of tramping workmen; that we had lived well although frugally; and that, save in a goatherd’s hut on the Schaf-berg, we had never slept out of bed.