Meran as a Health Resort and Excursion Base

Extra supplement to the Allgemeine Zeitung. No. 218 and 219. 1835 (June 2).

Meran.

• From Meran. A pleasant description of old Meran and its magnificent surroundings in these pages ) brought me, along with others, here to this delightful valley from the German north. We have been here since mid-April, and our ailments and complaints have yielded to the milder breath of these breezes. We consider it our duty to thank the author of those lines and once again recommend this place to the traveling world, and especially to those suffering from asthma, hypochondria, phthisis, atrophy, and similar afflictions — provided the latter have not progressed too far. Already in April, when we arrived here, we were surprised by the wonders of this heavenly region. We left Innsbruck in snow and rain, not a green leaf was yet to be seen, the seed barely sown in the fields. Here, all the magic of spring suddenly surrounded us, the meadows were adorned with an unprecedented lush green, all trees shone in full blossom, the peach tree in the open field was adorned with a crown of rose-red blossoms, and the fig and apricot trees already showed their first fruits. At the same time, the sky was so clear and the air so balsamically refreshing that the suffering chest could scarcely empty the overflowing cup full of fragrance. Our hearts were stirred more joyfully than ever by the sight of this newly blessed nature, and the certain hope of a swift revival of weakened strength worked more effectively than all the medicines of our physicians, one of whom is among us. Now that we have truly recovered, we enjoy with twofold pleasure the beauties of this sky. Divine nature ripens with wondrous power all the fruits of summer before our eyes, and from the mountains a second spring smiles toward us in blossoming trees. The grapevine climbs flowering above ripening crops, and soon a young shoot will displace the golden ears beneath it. For here the vines are trained higher and more beautifully than on the Rhine, everywhere forming the most splendid arbors and providing refreshing shade along mountain paths and roads. The grass in the meadows has reached an uncommon height thanks to fertile, frequent rain and early artificial irrigation, and the cheerful mowers prepare for haymaking, which recurs three more times in the year. The mulberry tree, which in many parts of Upper Italy was almost destroyed by the unusual cold of spring, inspires the fairest hope here, having been spared by milder weather. This truthful description will surely inspire belief that Meran is a place capable of offering as much benefit to the suffering as it does pleasure to the healthy. The small town lacks only a renowned name to allow it, without causing surprise, to be compared to Naples and Nice. While under a distant sky the weak constitution can no longer tolerate foreign food and foreign customs, here, with German food and German customs, the ailing organism would surely blossom with greater blessing. If only everyone would not follow this unfortunate superstition and drag their suffering bodies to distant foreign lands at great expense, but would rather heed the counsel of sincere philanthropists and place trust in the much nearer, almost equally mild sky of this valley, where already a thousand years ago the land's noblest families and foreigners from the praised South built countless castles and strongholds on all the heights, which to this day remain the admiration of all travelers. And what can testify better to the beauty of the region than these castles and ruins? On a short stretch of land barely four hours in length, one counts 35 of them! Among these venerable witnesses of a heroic past, ancient Castle Tyrol stands foremost; situated about an hour and a quarter from Meran, one enjoys from its height a view over the whole valley. In this castle, in February 1342, Margaretha Maultasch celebrated her wedding to Ludwig, Margrave of Brandenburg, son of Emperor Ludwig the Bavarian, who himself accompanied the noble couple to the castle and attended the marriage, celebrated with immense splendor and great jubilation, during which the Rhaetian wine tasted just as exquisite to the foreign guests as it once did to Suetonius, who assured Emperor Augustus that it gave him the greatest pleasure. To the right and left, ancient Tyrol is surrounded, partly still stately castles, partly picturesque ruins: Langvall, Thornstein, Brunnenburg, Auer, Schenna, Goyen, Zenoburg, Rondeck, Labers, Stametz, Rubein, Knillenberg, Winkel, Neuberg; further off lie: Fragsburg, Katzenstein, Maultasch, Sauschloß, Hohen=Eppan, Brandeis, Tornsberg, Leonburg, Mayenburg, Zwingenberg, Wörburg, Fahlburg, Zelmsdorf, Stein, Eschenloh, Lebenberg, Katzenzungen, Fraums, Forst, and Josephsberg. Strangers wishing to look around Tyrol further can visit the distant valleys and glaciers from nowhere better than from Meran. At the Post and the Adler, equally reasonably priced lodgings offer the opportunity to linger and rest from climbing the Alps. Professor Weber and other worthy men gladly and willingly assist anyone seeking instruction and gathering historical or geognostic knowledge of the region. In a single day, one can reach from here the new, wondrous road 8,000 feet high across the Wormser Joch; not much more time is needed to reach the shores of Lake Garda; just as quickly one arrives at the Ötztal glaciers, the mineral springs of Rabbi and Pejo, the Gröden valley where beautiful toys are carved for children the world over; to the Seiser Alm, or to Andreas Hofer's house in the Passeier valley, it is only four hours from here, and many other excursions can easily be undertaken from here at little expense. Added to the pleasant amenities of the region is the hospitable attentiveness of the inhabitants toward strangers. Everywhere one is received with affection, and one quickly finds a circle of friends gathered around. Madame Schechner=Wagen and Lewald*, who wrote his “Bilder aus Tyrol” here, will offer memories just as agreeable of the first as of the last hours spent in Meran. May these lines inspire the confidence they deserve. May those who suffer and long for a mild sky hasten here and breathe this divine air, which under a more distant clime could be no purer and more refreshing. May travelers bound for Italy not shy away from the postal stage from Bozen to Meran, or take their route via Landeck and linger for a day in the region where once, behind golden gates, Laurin's rose garden arose, held to be the fairest on earth, and where a single bud cost the robber his right hand and left foot.

*) See the extra supplement to the Allg. Zeitung No. 276 and 277 of July 14, 1834.