Day 88 - Snowfall & the Ebensee Fetzenzug

We woke up to it snowing again. Proper snowfall. The kind that softens everything and makes the world feel quiet. Rooftops white again, mountains disappearing into cloud, trees heavy with fresh powder. We were all up around 7 after a bit of a sleep-in, which felt good after the night before.

It was a planned rest day. No slopes, no rushing around. Just a slow alpine morning.

Because the shops had been closed the day before, we’d run out of a few essentials. Including coffee, which is borderline unacceptable. So Kia did an early morning dash down to Billa in Scharnstein and grabbed coffee and a few other bits and pieces. Crisis averted. Coffees brewed, breakfast sorted, snow still falling outside.

I got stuck into some work mid-morning while waiting on a response email, which eventually came through. It ended up being about two, maybe two and a half hours all up. Nothing dramatic, just ticking things along from the other side of the world. The kids did their schoolwork, Maddie disappeared into craft mode again, and then they were downstairs playing with the other worldschool kids. A bit of to and fro all morning.

Once I wrapped up work, Kia and I shifted into travel admin mode. We’re flying from Austria to Sicily soon, spending a week there, then heading up to mainland Italy before settling into Lake Garda for another worldschool hub. I booked our flights to Sicily, which felt like a solid win. Kia was researching accommodation. It’s funny how these “rest days” often turn into logistics days, but that’s part of long-term travel.

In the afternoon we jumped in the car and drove about 30 minutes north of Scharnstein, following the edge of Traunsee toward the town of Ebensee. The drive alone was worth leaving the house for.

Traunsee is this deep, dark alpine lake, ringed by near vertical limestone cliffs from the Höllengebirge range. Snow-dusted fields, tiny villages with church steeples poking up through the white, mountains rising straight out of the water. It’s one of those drives where you just go quiet and take it in.

We parked near a small shopping centre and ducked into a bakery. More coffees and these little U-shaped biscuits with jam in the middle and chocolate dipped ends. They’re called Linzer Kipferl, related to the famous Linzer Torte. Buttery, crumbly, raspberry jam centre. Elite bakery snack. There were also stalls selling Krapfen, fluffy doughnuts filled with apricot jam, traditionally eaten during this time of year. We tried those too. No regrets.

What we were there for was the Traditioneller Ebenseer Fetzenzug. At the time, we didn’t fully understand how significant it was. It’s one of Austria’s most famous Fasching parades and is officially recognised as intangible UNESCO cultural heritage. It happens every year on Fasching Monday before Lent and has deep roots in alpine tradition.

The word Fetzen roughly translates to rags. The participants wear layered, shredded fabric costumes, often handmade, along with carved wooden masks that range from funny to slightly terrifying. Historically it was about satire and mischief, mocking authority and flipping social norms before the fasting season began.

By about 3:30 the parade started coming down from the hillside above town. First came the jesters, known as Faschingsnarren, holding small batons and playfully tapping people as they passed. Symbolic mischief. No one safe.

Then the masked figures rolled through.

Heavy wooden masks. Bells strapped to their backs. Layered rags flowing as they walked. They handed out lollies to the kids like Halloween had come early. Some gave tiny bottles of schnapps to the adults. Others stopped and played little tricks on people in the crowd.

At some point it all became very personal for me. Lipstick was smeared across my face. Charcoal paste rubbed into my cheeks. Some kind of nut and seed mix stuck to my jacket. Little clips attached to my beanie. And then I was handed a syringe full of alcohol and told to open my mouth. When in Austria.

There were flower bombs being thrown, random games happening mid-parade, bursts of laughter everywhere. It felt like a mix between Halloween, Mardi Gras and some ancient alpine ritual that had never been sanitised for tourists. The kids thought it was the greatest thing ever. Free lollies delivered straight into their hands without having to knock on a single door.

We had heaps of conversations with locals who couldn’t believe Australians were standing there in their town for Fasching. It didn’t feel staged. It felt like we had stepped right into something that belonged to the community.

The final float was a tractor covered with hogskin, packed with people, towing a trailer full of revellers. Absolute alpine madness. As it rolled through, the crowd slowly started drifting toward the pubs. The Norwegian mum we were with somehow got handed a VIP tag that apparently meant free drinks across multiple venues. A dangerous development.

We were invited along, but with the kids, the cold and a 30-minute mountain drive ahead of us, we made the sensible call and headed back to the car.

The drive home along Traunsee at dusk was unreal. The mountains were dark silhouettes against the fading sky, the lake completely still, snow glowing softly in the last light. One of those quiet drives where no one talks much.

We didn’t plan this day. We just said yes to something local. And we ended up standing inside a centuries-old alpine tradition strong enough to be recognised by UNESCO, getting charcoal smeared on our faces and schnapps squirted into our mouths.

That’s worldschooling. Not reading about culture, but standing in it.

Day 88. Snowfall. Ebensee Fetzenzug. Lake Traunsee. Linzer biscuits. Schnapps syringes. Austria, you’re wild. And we’re loving it.