Sitting pretty in the Austrian Tyrol, Seefeld looks every bit the alpine idyll the brochure claims it to be. The resort town is just a half an hour's drive from Innsbruck in western Austria, and about a mile up the mountains; as you ascend, sheer rockface looms on one side, while the vast valley of the river Inn sweeps away on the other.
There are two sides to the Seefeld story, one set in the warm, fresh summer months, and the other in the mad swirl of the winter ski season. Twice chosen as the site of the Olympic Winter Games, Seefeld is primarily a ski resort, and the rest of the year seems like just killing time till the snow comes.
I visited Seefeld in the middle of September, when summer was still in command and the busy season was far away on the distant horizon. Snow had not yet appeared on the mountain peaks, and the temperature was more suited to a Mediterranean resort, but the crisp, fresh air left you in no doubt that you were high above sea-level. Seefeld sits on a south-facing plateau, which makes it a bit of a natural suntrap - so plenty of sunblock is needed before heading up to the slopes.
The resort is relatively quiet during autumn, and the main activities involve hill-walking, golf, tennis and cycling. The more adventurous can do some rugged rock-climbing, or jump off the mountain peaks (with the aid of a paraglider, of course). It's the ideal time for retired people, and I wheezed in envy as healthy-looking folk twice my age passed me out on the mountain trail. The serious walkers dress for the journey, wearing sturdy lederhosen and knee-high woolly socks, and proudly wielding their retractable walking sticks, but the only essential equipment you need is a pair of sturdy walking shoes, a spare jumper and a light, rainproof anorak. Something to keep the alpine wind from bashing your ears might also come in handy.
They call it "hill-walking", so I was expecting an easy stroll in the foothills, but the trail actually starts at the 2,100 metre Seefelder Joch and continues past the 2,220 metre high Seefelder Spitze, a tad higher than the Sugarloaf, I can tell you. Having strolled along the Cliffs of Moher many times, I assumed I was immune to vertigo, but when I stepped off the cable car and saw just how high up I was, my knees turned to sauerkraut. "Don't look down", is the usual advice, but I can testify that looking down is not the problem - it's when you look up and realise you have to climb another few hundred metres that the fear really kicks in.
White water rafting, by comparison, is an absolute doddle, and not even the prospect of cracking my skull open on the rocks could dampen my enthusiasm. The raft centre at Haiming sits on the river Inn, just a few miles upriver from Innsbruck, and is run professionally but with an emphasis on having fun. Rafting is popular with a younger crowd, but as long as you're reasonably fit and can row like billy-o, there's no reason why you can't follow the young 'uns down the rapids. Each raft holds six to eight crew, who wear wetsuits, helmets and life jackets, and each group has a leader who barks out the commands and instructs you the art of staying on the raft and not drowning.
There's a half-hour training session where each group goes through the moves on dry land, but nothing prepares you for when you're swept away by the fast-moving river, and have to rely on your wits and reflexes. The trip takes about an hour-and-a-half, and takes you through some pretty hairy rapids; however, we were told that the water level was relatively low at this time of the year, making the river much calmer, and that July and August were the real white-knuckle months.
At the end of the trip, we were given a shot of schnapps to counteract the cold water, and then we got to watch ourselves on videotape. The centre sells copies of the video for you to take home and show your friends and family how fearless you really are.
Eating in Seefeld requires a hearty appetite - Tyrolean cuisine is meaty, creamy, big and buttery. Your typical lunch might consist of a large bratwurst, accompanied by a generous dollop of fried onions, or a thick goulash soup filled with huge chunks of beef - perfect energy food for those long walks in the Wildmoos nature reserve. At night-time we visited a Tyrolean restaurant, Triendlsage, situated in a big log cabin somewhere up in the woods, and ate a traditional farmhouse meal which included a delicious starter of spinach dumplings, a succulent joint of pork served in a massive casserole dish, and a dessert of Kaiserschmarrn, a tempting confusion of apple and pastry which translates literally as "emperor's nonsense". In the Tyrolean menu, the emphasis is on taste, and I suppose you can always ski off the calories later. Nightlife in Seefeld is said to be at its best in the winter, when the bars and discos are filled to capacity for the apres-ski, but in September it was fairly quiet, leaving you plenty of elbow room to lift your weissbier. Die Fledermaus, Siglu and Graham's Pub all have a young crowd and a convivial atmosphere and no cover charge; there are places which cater to an older crowd, but many of these tend to be tourist traps, offering so-called "traditional" entertainment at inflated prices. A visit to the casino is well recommended - you can play roulette, blackjack or baccarat in a sophisticated atmosphere redolent of old James Bond movies.
Accommodation in Seefeld is reasonably priced, and for around £40 per person (half board), you spend the night in clean, country house style at one of the resort's many four star hotels. Our hotel, the Alpina, had charming, spacious en suite rooms with pine fittings, and facilities included swimming pool, sauna and tennis courts. Sightseers can take a train into nearby Innsbruck, the capital of the Tyrol province, where Renaissance churches, museums, gardens and galleries abound. The old town is filled with gift shops, and you can spend an entertaining day in search of tacky Austrian trinkets specially churned out for the tourists. There's also a shop which sells the most intricate and expensive Christmas decorations I've ever seen. The next time I come to Seefeld, I will definitely return to that knee-trembling peak - and this time I'm bringing a pair of skis.
