It stands oblivious of its past, virtually, and is the
ominous reason behind its permanence. Kehlsteinhaus or The Eagle’s Nest in breathtaking
Berchtesgaden perches at a precarious 1834 metres above sea level, commanding some of the most spectacular Alpine views in the world. Built by Adolf Hitler’s trusted aide Martin Bormann for the former’s 50th birthday, this imposing stone edifice has defied nature’s intimidation and vagaries of weather for years together.
    Standing on the steps leading to a snow-splashed
hillock with an ancient stone cross, we ponder over the facts of this imposing edifice. Though it was a tribute to Hitler, his fear of heights and apparent disinterest in the project left Kehlsteinhaus largely abandoned, till it was taken over by the Berchtesgaden tourist board and now draws the choicest crowd.
    In the serenely majestic Alpine paradise of Berchtesgaden, just 30 minutes from Salzburg in
Austria, nothing seems to have changed, except the
endless expanse of adolescent grass on the gentle
meadows. Idyllic, tranquil and undisturbed by the material world, this cozy snow-topped hideaway is frequented only by the world’s discerningly affluent, the wealthy and privileged.

    As we cruise along the scenic country lanes and farmlands, inhabited by quaint Bavarian chalets decked by riots of blooms, we discover peace in a myriad of tones and tints.
    Caressed by towering limestone peaks and sheaths with sheer drops, the emerald placidity of the mystical, fjord-like Lake Koenigsee and it’s breathtaking snowtinged skyline soothes our eyes. As our environmentfriendly electric cruise boat gently glides noiselessly over mirrored waters, fairy tale hamlets peep out from between deeply cleavaged ravines and waterfall courses. Surreal and unbelievable.
    We dock at picture postcard St. Bartholoma with its lone leit-motif, the onion-domed church. The green expanse beyond seems to wash the mountain sides clean of any trace of Sienna. Fat cows graze with indifferent concentration. Silence and bird songs are the melodies of the day, langouring into an intensely peachy early evening.
    We come upon happy folks guzzling steins of wheat beers and bikers working up mountain trails. “We are a small population here, but we are beside ourselves with the beauty of the landscape and nature’s largesse,” says Ursula,