The lake was perfectly still, larch trees reflected in its glassy surface, hills folding into each other in the distance. I thought about swimming across it – a distance of about 1km – but once I was immersed in the cool, tranquil water, front-crawling through it with my head down lost its appeal. This was a moment to stop and take in the beauty of my surroundings.
Bordering Italy and Slovenia, Carinthia is Austria’s southernmost region, a sparsely populated land of gentle mountain peaks – the Nockberge. But its bigger claim to fame is its 1,200 lakes, of which 200 are swimmable. Each has its own highlight: Wörthersee – on which the regional capital, Klagenfurt, sits – is the largest, at 10 miles long, and known for the 100m-high Pyramidenkogel viewing platform; Klopeiner See is one of the warmest lakes in Europe; Faaker See is Austria’s answer to the Everglades, thanks to the reed beds visitors can glide through on Canadian canoes. But they all have one thing in common – clear, clean water that’s pure enough to drink. This alone is worth travelling for if you live in the UK, land of polluted rivers, lakes and sea, where even the tap water can make you sick.
Surprisingly, the cult of cold water swimming that has gripped the UK has not taken hold to the same degree in Carinthia.
Most Austrians stick to July and August, when the water temperature can reach 25C – or they take the briefest of dips to cool down after a sauna. Thanks to its thermal waters, Carinthia became a hotspot for bathhouses in the late 19th century when the railways brought tourists from Vienna. Today there are a number of bathhouses in the region, with saunas, steam rooms, pools and treatments, and many hotels with similar facilities.
Ours, the Brennseehof, had three saunas, including the Seekino (lake cinema), so called because of the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of Brennsee, one of the region’s smaller lakes. The sauna was huge, but for most guests the highlight of the Seekino was the “infusion” sessions where sauna master Claudio played rousing music while wafting a towel around to circulate the 90C air, or throwing balls of ice onto the coals with a dramatic flourish. During my first session I had to suppress my giggles as Claudio’s towel waving became increasingly theatrical. But no one else was laughing; they sat with eyes closed, lost in the moment. After 12 minutes of intense heat, we trooped out on to the decking and down the steps into the water – only about 18C at the end of May.
I had worried that my 14-year-old son might be too old for the Brennseehof, a designated kinderhotel geared to young families, but within hours of arriving he had found some kids his own age to hang out with every evening. During the day we were never short of something to do: as well as two pools (five if you count the children’s ones) and 12 tennis courts, the on-site sports centre offers e-bikes, mountain bikes, windsurfing and sailing lessons, paddleboards and kayaks. All of which meant that even if I couldn’t keep him away from the dreaded smartphone completely, there were at least long gaps between his deep dives into Depop and TikTok.
Beyond the hotel there was an overwhelming choice of activities. A ride on the Brunnach cable car took us up into thick cloud, leaving us to rely on map displays to show us what we were missing. If it had been clear we would have taken in views of the highest peak of the Nockberge in Carinthia – Rosennock at 2,440 metres – and its dome-like sister summits.
Instead, we trained our eyes on the tiny mountain flowers along the Brunnachhöhe trail, an accessible path that opened last year, before taking shelter in the Nock In, where my son ordered what looked like the world’s biggest schnitzel and I tried the “giant doughnut” – similar to a massive yorkshire pudding, covered in salmon and cream cheese.
The next day our plans to drive the curving Nockalm road through the Nockberge biosphere reserve were scuppered by rain, so we opted for the Badehaus in Millstatt, the main town on Millstätter See. We changed into our robes but my son took one look at the naked men and women relaxing on red velvet sofas in the wellness lounge, and declared that it was his “idea of hell”. In hindsight, the more family-friendly Therme St Kathrein spa in the nearby town of Bad Kleinkirchheim would have been a better bet.
I traumatised him further by forcing some culture on him in the shape of beautiful St Oswald, a medieval hamlet where a church dating back to the 1300s stands in a cluster of wooden buildings that seem frozen in time, including a 500-year-old school house.
Lunch on the bathhouse terrace restored his equilibrium. We tucked into kasnudeln, a Carinthian dish of cheesy dumplings, while taking in views of the lake and an impressive 1930s 10-metre-high diving platform, which he said he was going to jump off after lunch. Thankfully it was closed.
But I couldn’t avoid high-adrenaline pursuits altogether. In Bad Kleinkirchheim, I was persuaded to have a go on the Kaiserburg Bob – an alpine rollercoaster – then regretted it as I screamed the entire way down, undermining my claims earlier in the week that I was an adventurous mum. Still, my son got his kicks without me holding him back when we e-biked up the hill behind the Brennseehof. At 1,500 metres we stopped at the Jausenstation Wegerhütte, where we had reindling (cinnamon pastries), and cordial made from mountain herbs and spring water, before heading back down, my son hurtling ahead of me as I kept the brakes on for a slow descent – just as it started to rain again.
Changeable weather is always a risk in the mountains, but I would happily choose fresh air and the risk of showers over the suffocating heat of southern Europe. And given the growing numbers of holidaymakers looking for alternatives to the Med in summer, it can’t be long before more Britons start to notice Carinthia, which up to now has stayed under our radar, overshadowed by its better-known neighbour to the west – the Tirol.
And we did get some sun. When we drove to the Sternenbalkon (balcony of the stars) – a wooden platform above Millstätter See – we were rewarded with a glorious view of the lake and tree-covered slopes, like a painting in every shade of green and blue. From the balcony you can follow several walking trails, including the slow trail at the foot of the Mirnock. Legend has it, this mountain is home to the Mirnock giant who created Brennsee and its equally pretty sister Afritzer See when he threw down the top of the mountain in a rage, turning one lake into two.
In total there are 20 slow trails – signposted paths that are less than 10km and involve no more than 300 metres climbing, allowing anyone who doesn’t want a major hike to take in the landscape at a gentle pace.
Standing on the shore of Brennsee on my last day, I again contemplated swimming across it. But again, a few strokes in, the impetus waned. The sauna was so close; Claudio was about to start his towel waving and, well, when in Carinthia …
The trip was provided by Visit Carinthia. Rooms at Hotel Brennseehof from €115 pp, full board (reduced rates for children), including access to sports facilities plus free child care, kids’ activities and tours. Further info: austria.info and seeundberg.at
