It's definitely better than wasting away in my cabin.
"Can I manage it with ballet flats?" I ask for reassurance. Because if there's one thing I've learned by now, it's that the clothes I brought from Vienna are unsuitable for Semmtal.
A smile flickers across Helene's face. I can't quite tell if it's wistful or amused. "I have something for you. Come with me."
***
Two hours later, I stand at the starting point of hiking trail number five, clad in Helene's surprisingly comfortable hiking clothes. The trail winds its way up the steep mountain, and it doesn't appear to be suitable for beginners. Nonetheless, I march forward with determination.
After just a few yards, I'm already out of breath and have to slow down. A couple with sun-kissed faces and gray hair passes by me. They chat so effortlessly, as if they were simply having a cup of coffee, and greet me kindly.
I nod at them, huffing and puffing. I haven't even reached halfway up the ascent, but I probably already look like I've run a marathon. I can feel my cheeks burning and sweat forming on my forehead.
"What a stupid idea," I mutter, straining to catch my breath, as suddenly household chores and Netflix seem like a much more attractive alternative. If I were in my cabin, I could also block out the panorama that surrounds me here.
I just don't understand what's so beautiful about mountains. They're just rugged, cold walls that obstruct the view of the horizon. And on top of that, there's nothing here but nature. The smell of moss. Bird chirping. Ferns casting dancing shadows on the trail. And deer droppings.
It's quiet here. Too quiet. The athletic couple haslong disappeared around the next bend. This kind of solitude is even worse than the one in my cabin. At least there I have entertainment. My laptop, the TV, my phone. These devices are my only access to the world I actually belong to.
I come to a stop and take my mobile phone out of my backpack, hoping to at least listen to some music. But I have no bars.
"Great."
Frustrated, I put the phone back in my backpack and manage to grab a marshmallow from my emergency stash before turning around. Going downhill strains my thighs, but at least my breathing calms down, and soon, the last curve lies before me. I walk along the bend, feeling relieved.
That's when I spot Noah.
As always, he's wearing a plaid shirt with a white T-shirt peeking out underneath. With his cap pulled low over his face, he marches up the ascent as if taking a leisurely Sunday stroll.
"Hey, stranger." Despite my hiking mishap, I can't help but smile. I come to a stop and observe as he raises his gaze while walking.
"The city moss," he murmurs almost inaudibly, giving me a hesitant nod.
Did he just call me city moss? What on earth does that mean? It's probably one of those dialect words that only a true Tyrolean would understand.
As he approaches, his tired gaze glides down my body all the way to my shoes. Confused, he raises his eyes. "You're hiking?" he asks when he reaches me.
Oh God, no! "Sure," I say, spreading my arms wide and pretending to fully enjoy the mountains. I have noidea why I'm lying to him. Maybe it's to see the smile forming on his face or the warm expression with which he looks at me. He's clouding my senses.
No. Stop. He's not!
I'm lying to him to learn more about him. As his doctor, I need to know his living conditions in order to make a diagnosis.
Yes, that's how it is. And no different.
"I want to go to Wipfel Lake," I say as casually as possible. "Shall we walk together for a bit?"
Seconds pass with no response from him. All he does is scrutinize me as if I were a devil who just offered to buy his soul.
I'm not that terrible of company, am I? Or am I?
I observe the fidgety movements of his legs.
"Alright," he says and starts running the next second. I struggle to catch up with him. Despite my best efforts not to stumble, he smirks knowingly.
"Perfect hiking weather today," I blurt out, gritting my teeth. I certainly won't give up. The path ahead is already becoming flatter. I can make it there.
Finally reaching the flat ground, Noah slows down. He tries to suppress a yawn but fails. "Explain it to me," he says, his gaze once again scanning my hiking outfit. "Your clothing and your locomotive-like panting are a complete contradiction."
