The Dream Way, Part 1

Munich to Venice on the Dream Way: Part 1 (Germany & Austria)

Prologue

It’s the allure of walking into dreamlike Venice that entices us to set out from Munich on the Dream Way (the Traumpfad). For the German walkers we meet, it’s the desire to make a pilgrimage across the Alps, their spiritual homeland.

The 600-kilometre walk passes through three countries: Germany, Austria and Italy. It traverses the Bavarian Pre-alps, the Karwendel Alps, and the Tux Alps. Crossing the Italian border, it enters the Pfunderer Valley before winding across the Dolomites. Finally, it climbs the Belluno Pre-alps before descending to the Piave River plains and on to Venice. 

The alpine walking season is brief. Start too early, and the high passes are still covered with snow. Start too late, and the alpine huts will be closing for the winter. The conditions were perfect when we set out in early July, but even so, wild, erratic weather forced us to deviate from our planned route on several occasions.  

This isn’t a walk for the faint-hearted, with 27,000 metres of ascent. Often steep, it sometimes requires the use of fixed wires and ladders to ensure a safe passage. Most of the walk follows existing routes; there is no designated ‘Munich to Venice’ footpath as such. In the words of the poet, Antonio Machado: Wanderer, your footprints are the path, and nothing else; wanderer, there is no path, the path is made by walking. 

What follows is an account of our 34 days on the Dream Way: many of them challenging, and staggeringly beautiful. 

Munich

The heat is on in Munich. We do as the locals do and spend the hot afternoon in the green of the English Gardens, one of the largest urban parks in the world. It’s a balm to wander this oasis of wide-open spaces, secluded nooks and wildflower meadows. We stop for a while at the world-famous Eisbach surf break, where there’s no need for the surfers to paddle out; they form a queue on the canal bank and jump onto the wave when it’s their turn. Less daring, we find a shady beer garden to while away a couple of hours in contemplation, settling ourselves before starting the Dream Way in the morning.

Day 1: Munich to Schāftlarn (22 km)

As the forecast is for a +30 °C day, we leave Munich early, pausing for an obligatory start-of-walk photo in Marienplatz, the city’s main square. The only other people about are municipal workers, cleaning up after the weekend’s Munich Pride festival. We cross the River Isar, turn southwest, and follow the shadier of the paths along the river. The path closest to the water is a cyclists’ Autobahn, with bike commuters powering their way to work and best given a wide berth. The less time-pressed bathe in the shallows, soaking up the morning sun, or practise yoga on the riverbank. 

Further from the city, hemmed by Linden trees in bloom, the meadows are a blue blur of wild cornflowers. We follow the river as it weaves around stony shoals and gurgles over rocks. On the other side of the gravel path is the straightsided Isar canal, its water moving swiftly and silently. The path narrows, finding its way between bright green trees. We pause to observe a bird watcher looking intently through binoculars, but we don’t see the object of his attention.  A little further on, we watch a majestic white swan glide down the canal. Church bells ring out as we climb the riverbank to the village of Pullach, where there’s rumoured to be a cafe. We’re in luck and enjoy coffee and delicious cake before stepping back out into the dusty golden haze of a summer afternoon. 

For a time, we follow the yellow shells that mark a pilgrim route through Germany to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. We think of Josef, a 76-year-old pilgrim we met in 2008 who walked from his home in Germany to Spain and who continues to inspire us to keep walking and to seek beauty at every turn.

The air is a symphony of bird song, until the building heat stills all life. Our pace slows. We meet our first fellow Dream Way walker, Neil from Germany. He’s going further than us today, so we’re unlikely to see him again. But we’ll know he’s on the path, and he’ll know the same of us.

A fading image of a saint. An offering: a bowl of fresh flowers. A white and gold Rococo church. A cold beer in a lush green garden. The temperature is in the mid-thirties, but the trees provide us with shade and an occasional cooling breeze. The Benedictine Monastery at Schäftlarn proves to be a sanctuary for weary Dream Way walkers. 

Day 2: Schäftlarn to Wolfratshausen (22 km)

It’s damp this morning, the heat dissipating. Swallows swirl around the church steeple (it’s said that when the swallows fly high, the weather will be dry). After breakfast in what was part of the Monastery, we make our way back to the river, stopping to look at several interpretative signs. They’re in German, but we understand enough to know that human activity is endangering the river and its environs. 

Wildflowers splash the river banks bright with colour. The riverbed itself is pale grey with glacial debris. Birds on song. Iridescent aqua dragonflies flitting about. Saints encased in small shrines look out for those in need of protection. It’s a mid-summer morning, so idyllic that it’s as if nothing is amiss in the world.

We come upon a group of 12 women out walking a section of the Camino de Santiago. Their numbers are putting pressure on the available accommodation and, as a consequence, last night we slept in the ironing room of our guest house, the only option available to us.

To cross the Ickinger weir, we open a graffiti-covered steel door, walk up a flight of concrete steps, and over a suspended footbridge. From here, we take a winding path through a tunnel of green to the confluence of the Isar and the Loisach rivers. The warm air is scented with anise. From our vantage point, we catch glimpses of paddleboarders and a party raft drifting downstream. 

Wolfratshausen, tonight’s destination, is a timber rafting town. For over 700 years, rafters transported local merchandise and goods that came over the Alps from Venice down the shallow mountain river to the Danube. At the end of their journey, they sold the raft for timber and walked back home. With the coming of the railway, timber rafting lost its role in transportation. Some rafters found a new source of income in tourism, offering, as they still do, all-day rafting cruises through the Isar valley to Munich. 

We visit the local history museum and learn that Ludwig Grassler, the founder of the Dream Way, lived here in Wolfratshausen. His Tyrolean hat is on display. We take it as a good omen and pay our respects to him for realising his dream of a route from Munich to Venice.

The river catches the light of an approaching storm and glows an electric green colour. When the rain starts, the water’s surface sparkles like diamonds.

Day 3: Wolfratshausen to Bad Tölz (28 km)

Breakfast isn’t included in the tariff for a room in a share house in Wolfratshausen, but Charlie, our host, says he can’t let Dream Way walkers leave without sustenance. He conjures up a generous feast of hot apple pancakes, yoghurt, home-baked bread, cheese, meat, fresh fruit, and coffee to see us on our way. 

Soon we’re back walking along the canal path between the Loisach and Isar rivers. These rivers have been significantly altered by dams, canals and diversions, reducing water flow and the river’s life force. They now flood less, and the gravel banks and islands have grown over, impacting the kingfisher, the little ringed plover, and the pink-flowering German tamarisk. However, recently, there’s been work to bring the Isar river closer to its wild state, with the riverbed widened, the banks flattened, and rock ramps built to slow the waterflow.

We climb steeply through ancient beech and pine trees to a small clearing with views across to villages and a patchwork of soft green fields. From this height, the River Isar looks like a ribbon of silver snaking through the forests. Occasionally, we come across concrete structures, remnants of WWII that the forest is taking over.

It’s hot, so we hug the water’s edge for as long as we can. The Isar is crystal clear here, with neon blue dragonflies hovering above it. Elliot, a fellow Dream Way walker, stops to chat before stripping off and plunging into the icy cold river. As he’s from Munich and lived for a time in Venice, he regards the Dream Way as a walk from one spiritual home to another. 

Leaving the Isar, we walk through a picture postcard of farm villages, rolling green fields, cows in the meadows, and church steeples. The Dream Way is not a religious pilgrimage, but as we walk through Bavaria, we’re struck by the presence of ‘God’ in the landscape. Recently, the Bavarian Premier ordered that all public buildings hang a cross as an expression of Bavaria’s historical and cultural character. A citizens’ group advocating for the separation of church and state were unsuccessful in challenging the decree.

An anticipated 28-kilometre day turns into 36 kilometres and we arrive in Bad Tölz footsore and fatigued. We’re intent on finding our accommodation, but the lure of gelato proves too strong. We sit at a table in the heart of this medieval town and allow our feet to recuperate. Tomorrow we start climbing up into the rugged mountains, and we’ll need all the energy we can muster. 

Day 4: Bad Tölz to Tutzinger Hut (22 km)

We wake to low clouds, the damp air fragrant with juniper. Silver birches line the riverbank. Dipper birds dive headfirst into the water, hunting for food on the riverbed. We follow the River Isar to Lenggries, content to walk at a gentle pace. Once we leave the ease of the river, the tenor of the day will change. 

After lunch, we start the climb into the mountains, a landscape formed by ice. We follow a path through the forest and come out onto a meadow covered with alpine wildflowers. Our guidebook warns that one of the most difficult stretches of the Dream Way, the traverse of Achseslköpf, lies ahead. There’s an easier variant, but we agree that testing ourselves on this first difficult section will (hopefully) assuage our anxieties.

It’s a wild, audacious landscape. Sheer and precipitous with great walls of silver rock. Boulders hurtling down the slope and exploding at the base of the mountain. The mist comes and goes, as do the mountains. There’s almost no one else on the trail. In the course of the afternoon, we pass several memorials to hikers who perished in blizzards or avalanches, a sobering reminder of how quickly conditions can change in the mountains.

The route runs along a steep, exposed ridge, ascending and descending several ‘mini-summits’. It requires a head for heights and, in places, the use of ladders and fixed ropes. The sheer physical effort and our suppressed fears take their toll. We’re shattered by the time we arrive at Tutzinger Hut, but pleased we were up to what was demanded of us. A beer never tasted so good. 

Our first three nights on the Dream Way were spent in villages, with all the comforts of civilisation. Tonight is the first of many we’ll spend high in an alpine hut, going to sleep to the sound of cow bells, rather than church bells. Tutzinger sits in a hollow underneath Benediktenwand, a monumental rock wall. At sunset, for a few brief minutes, the rock changes from grey to luminous pink. Every Dream Way walker watching is awestruck by the transformation.

Day 5: Tutzinger Hut to Vorderris (19 km)

The cow bells lulled us into a long and peaceful sleep. This morning, we joined the queue for breakfast before the servery opened at 7 am, eager to be on our way. Leaving behind the imposing Benediktenwand, we set off on a gentle climb, followed by a steep descent that takes us below the tree line, through forests of pine and beech. Lower down, we see the hillsides are lush with wildflowers.

It’s Saturday today, and the trails are busy with day walkers, an occasional one carrying a bottle of beer to tide them over to the walk’s end. Water falling from a great height. Tarns carved out by glaciers are brimming with crystal-clear, emerald water. Red deer country. Hunters’ boxes on the edges of clearings. A wooden house in a meadow. Once a farmer’s summer abode, it’s now a cafe serving coffee and homemade cakes to walkers.

We climb up through pine forests, the warm air carrying the scent of their resin. Our reward for the climb: a view back down the River Isar. Then, it’s a long, steep, well-graded path down to Vorderris, the last stop before the Austrian border. 

Now that the day walkers have left for home, it’s easier to identify the Dream Way walkers. There are a handful of German men, two Taiwanese women and us. The Germans, more familiar with mountain weather, urge us to check the forecast each day and be aware of sudden or sharp changes in conditions. 

 Day 6: Vorderris to Eng (26 km)

At breakfast, Markus, a German Dream Way walker, warns us of potentially severe afternoon thunderstorms and explains the exposed nature of the Karwendels. A few walkers set off early to beat the storms, while we’ll join several others on an alternative route that skirts the mountains. It’s several kilometres longer, but a safer walk.

The Karwendel Nature Park encompasses the Karwendel massif and the Arnspitze nature reserve. Due to its topography, it has a diversity of natural habitats and is home to a large number of animal and plant species, including the famed golden eagle.

Ice in the folds of the mountains and a smattering of rain as we head out. Two hours into the day, we cross the glacial blue Rissbach and enter Austria. Walking down the road in the opposite direction is a man dressed in leiderhose, a Tyrolean hat, and a wooden staff; he’s attending to his cows and to our eyes is the archetypal Tyrolean shepherd. He’s happy to pose for a photo as he welcomes us to Austria.

Following the river upstream, we stop now and then to look at the birds nesting in the rocks by the river. The mountains are an omnipotent force. Their limestone walls, high peaks and jagged ridges tower over everything. We hear the rumbling of distant thunder. The wind stills. It’s the calm before the storm. Our phones flash with a warning of extreme conditions. Soon after, the heavens open and the rain lashes us. It continues as we leave the road and follow a path through a tangle of high grasses to the small hamlet of Eng.

By mid-afternoon, we are luxuriating in a warm, dry hotel room. Outside, the rain intensifies. It’s likely to stay that way all night and into tomorrow. Later, we hear on the Dream Way grapevine that those who climbed into the Karwendels arrived safely, but the rain and low cloud obliterated any sense of the landscape.

Day 7: Eng to Schwaz (18 km)

We wake to a white wall of nothingness until the fog lifts and reveals a dramatic, glaciated mountainscape. All day the clouds swirl around, creating an ever-changing landscape of jagged peaks, exposed ridges, steep scree slopes and imposing rock walls. We climb up through the forest on a steep, winding track. A lizard as black and shiny as onyx crosses our path. Above the tree line are pastures and stunted trees. Here, we enter a portal into a wilder world. Windswept. Glacial. Stark. Rockfalls echo across the mountains. An animal, a roe deer, crosses a patch of remnant snow. A sign warns of the presence of wolves and bears.

Lamsenjoch hütte at 1,950 metres tempts us with coffee & warm plum cake. We share a table with Elliot and converse for a time. He tells us he’s walking the Dream Way to clear his head after four intense years working on his PhD, and to muse on what comes next. Even though there are opportunities for him in cities like Frankfurt, he doesn’t want to leave Bavaria. It’s paradise, he says. 

We walk down a gravel road that connects the alpine hut to the valley below. As we descend, the landscape softens and greens. Farms half-hidden by trees, a gravel riverbed that is one extreme weather event away from a massive flood. A forest where Camino de Santiago signs guide our way for several kilometres. 

From this dreamland, we walk out into the furore of the 21st century. Cars, cranes, people, alarming news headlines. We find our accommodation and rest our weary bodies before venturing out for dinner and to explore the historic streets of Schwaz. Minutes after we return to the hotel, an almighty thunderstorm unleashes its fury upon the earth.

Day 8: Schwaz to Hall in Tirol (18.5 km)

It’s still raining when we stir. There’s nothing for it but to don our wet-weather gear and face the grey day. Mist shrouds the valley. The river that runs through Schwaz is a raging torrent.

Soon we are walking on quiet back roads, past apple and pear orchards and fields of leeks, cabbage, and Tiroler wheat. This is a special variety, grown with pride to make Tyrolean bread. When we glance back, we see the spires of the town’s three solid churches rising ethereally out of the clouds.  

Our path follows the river and, on and off, a rail line busy with Innsbruck-bound commuter trains. At mid-morning, we stop at a bakery for pastries & hot chocolate. At the next table, two men are solving the problems of the world, or at least Terfens, over beers. Later, on a flat, grey, rainy afternoon, we wander the somewhat desultory streets of Hall in Tirol. On a sunnier day, the medieval centre of town would be captivating. Its long history dates back to the 13th century, when it became an important trading town due to the nearby salt mines. 

We’re surprised to see fresh snow on the mountain peaks. We’ll be up in those high places tomorrow, and wonder if the snow could impact our traverse of the Austrian Alps. 

Day 9: Hall in Tirol to Glungezer Hut (22 km)

An early start, climbing out of Hall in Tirol, the first of the climbs for the day. We walk through small mountain villages and up into a forest as dark and foreboding as a Grimm’s fairy tale. The walnut trees are laden with green fruit, the key ingredient in Nocino, a bittersweet, nutty liquor. 

We take a gondola to the top of the ski run, conserving our energy for the climb to Glungezer Hut, which sits at 2,610 metres, and for tomorrow’s challenging route. Glungezer to Lizumer Hut is reputedly one of the best days on the Dream Way, climbing six summits and walking across a ridge line; the route never drops below 2,000 metres.

We recognise one of a group of people walking down the mountain towards us. He’s a strong German mountaineering-type and stops to tell us they were intending to take the high route to Lizumer Hut today, but instead, are walking off the mountain. The snow has covered the trail, making the conditions treacherous. Another in the group says he’s been coming to the Austrian Alps for years, and he’s never seen so much snow at this time of year.

While very experienced, this morning they relied on the hut manager, a Sherpa and experienced Everest guide, to cut a track through the snow and walk them to safety. We decide to continue to the hut, stay there overnight, and see what tomorrow brings. 

The snow continues to fall and soon blankets the landscape. There’s a precipitous drop-off on one side of the track and hidden gaps between the snow-covered rocks. We walk from one marker to the next, following the trail cut this morning. Every time the wind gets up, we’re on edge.

Snow flurries. Sheep obscured by the white snow, the tinkling of their bells the only indication of their presence. Grouse with their young, a frantic adult bird leading us away from its chicks.

On arrival at Glungezer, our host, Tshering Lama Sherpa, offers us a big smile and a shot of cherry schnapps. It’s warming, like the host himself. He says that last week, the temperature was in the mid-20s centigrade. Now it’s snow-bound. While the icy white landscape is stunning, it comes with the risk of serious misadventure. Tshering spends the evening cautioning people against considering the high traverse. We settle by the fire and while away the long afternoon, discussing an alternative route with others and wandering outside every so often to take in the snowy wonderland.    

Day 10: Glungezer Hut to Lizumer Hut (10 km + 16 km by minibus)

Sun lights up the peaks of the Karwendels first thing this morning. Along with most of the hikers who overnighted at Glungezer, we turn our backs on the epic ridgeway walk and retrace our steps down the mountain to Tulfes. From here, a group of us take a taxi to the start of a trail to Lizumer Hut. The route takes us through a military area, used for training by both the Austrian and German armies. Although they remain unseen, we sense a stealth of vehicles moving through the forest.

The snow is in retreat from the lower slopes. The light reveals the bronze, silver and gold held within the rocks. It’s like Heidi country. Traditional cheese makers working from remote farms. Green undulating alpine meadows. Wooden houses and sheds. A swathe of lace-like white and purple wildflowers. Pine and spruce forests, planted to protect villages from avalanches. The distinctive high-pitched whistle of a marmot warns of imminent danger. Signs asking hikers to avoid disturbing wildlife and damaging young trees. 

A farming family brings their cows into milk as we sit on the terrace of Lizumer Hut, eating Kaiserschmarrn, a traditional plum pancake dish known as the Emperor’s mess. It’s delicious, and this version proves to be the best of our entire Dream Way. A straggle of hikers arrives late afternoon, one of whom comments on the size of Michael’s shoes. In Germany, he tells us, people would say that ‘children could row in them’. 

Day 11: Lizumer Hut to Tuxer Joch Haus (20 km)

The majority of people walking the Dream Way are German. For them, the Alps are a mystical place where they might find grace by rising to the challenges of traversing Europe’s biggest mountain range. Fractured terrain, tracks buried under snow and ice, and dangerous weather conditions all intensify the quest.

Today we’ll complete the traverse of the Tux Alps (the Dark Alps). The route we’ve mapped out to avoid the snow-covered pass is much longer than the official trail. It promises us spectacular views, as well as remorseless ascents and descents. We leave Lizumer Hut and climb to Torjoch Pass. Grassy ridges, vertical walls of pine trees, and steep scree slopes. Jagged, snow-covered peaks. Rock dissolves into cloud. The weather is fickle and bitterly cold at the top of the summit.

Coming down off the 2,386-metre pass, the trail descends into a lush green world. A mass of summer wildflowers: alpine forget-me-nots, buttercups, and whisky indigo flowers. Old timber shepherds’ huts dotted about the meadows. A holy water font to dip your fingers in, make the sign of the cross and remember 28-year-old Anna Perktola. She died in a tragic accident while picking edelweiss here in 1941.

We walk down to Torsee, a serene mountain lake located at 2,250 metres. It’s renowned for the spectacle of cotton grass blooming around its shores, and for the reflections of the surrounding mountains. Leaving the lake, we come to an exposed section of track that requires the use of a fixed rope. A meandering path leads us to a climb up through scree slopes and patches of icy snow to Ramsjoch pass. At 2,470 metres, it’s one of the most beautiful vantage points in the Tux Valley. The views of the Hintertux Glacier, Olperer, and Torsee are stunning.

At  Zilljöchl pass (2,315 metres), a flock of sheep takes a fancy to Michael’s shoes, so we beat a hasty retreat. We continue the climb up the Grüblspitz Peak (2,395 metres) before descending to Hintertux for a coffee break. Revived, we take a trail along the side of the hills to the ski resort where, intent on reaching Tuxer Joch Haus before the weather caves in, we catch the gondola halfway up the mountain and complete the day’s walk in sunshine.

It’s been a dazzling day, and we’ve covered a lot of ground vertically and horizontally. The hospitality at Tuxer Joch Haus is of the grudging kind, but we’re grateful for its glassed-in terrace where we discuss the day’s walking with our fellow Dream Way walkers while watching the play of light on the glaciated mountains.

Day 12:  Tuxer Joch Haus to Geraerhütte (10 km)

An early ascent, then a descent on a narrow winding path around the flank of a mountain. Small, white-striped birds fly up from the gorge below us. Goats, their bells tinkling, walk in single file, their shepherds ever vigilant. Marmots aplenty. These creatures find refuge in the rocky meadows and slopes and for centuries have been symbols of resilience, adaptability and playfulness. 

A steep rocky path to the pass; a strenuous climb up to 2,400 metres. A grey, glaciated, barren landscape. A drama of rock. Scree, glacial debris, monumental slabs of fallen rock. Delicate wildflowers flourish among the ice-sheared rocks. The disconcerting sound of snow shifting ground. We use fixed cables where the track is cut into the side of the mountain. There is no way through these mountains, only across them. Our guidebook warns of a sting in the tail of today’s route. A stream at the bottom of a gash in the glacial debris has to be negotiated and a torrent of meltwater will make the crossing challenging. We’re relieved to find a bridge high above the water, making for an easy end to a short walking day.

Geraerhütte is a cosy wood-panelled hut in a stunning & isolated location. We share a dormitory with Sylvia, a German climber who lived in Melbourne for 15 years. She tells us that all three of her children were born there and are Australians at heart.  We’ve lost track of the two Taiwanese women we met at Vorderris, but we assume they are ahead of us, as they only have 26 days to complete the Dream Way. 

As we finish dinner, Markus seeks us out to discuss tomorrow’s route. His advice is clear. He thinks it would be foolhardy for us to tackle the 2,960 metre Alpeiner Scharte route because of the ice and the depth of the snow. He attributes the risk to the inadequacy of our footwear, but he’s no doubt concerned about our stamina.  A group doing a mountaineering course overhear and comment that they walked the route today (with mountaineering boots and ice axes) and found it hard-going.  

Before retiring to bed, we toast the Alps with a glass of local schnapps, one made from mountain herbs, the other of larch trees.

Day 13: Geraerhütte to Stein (15 km + public transport)

The rumbling of rocks in free fall echoes across the mountains during the night. We, along with most of the walkers and climbers who overnighted at Geraerhütte, are at breakfast by 5:30 am as the morning sun lights up the Hohe Kirch. Clouds swirl around the Alpeiner Scharte. 

We take a lower route, descending from the wild, high places to an idyllic Tyrolean summer landscape. Willowy green meadows, wood stacked for winter, hay in stoops. Navigating a way down the valley, we follow stony rivers swelling with water on a path that is well graded and stable underfoot. 

Our journey to Stein requires us to catch a bus and a train. From the vantage point of the bus, we make out abandoned buildings; farms and villages uninhabited due to economic decline, the impact of climate change, or historical events like the world wars that uprooted, swept away and changed everything.

We cross the Brenner Pass. One of the major passes of the Eastern Alpine range and the one with the lowest altitude in this area, it’s almost 600 metres lower than the Alpeiner Scharte. Since Roman times, the Brenner Pass has been one of the main entrances to Italy and one of Europe’s great trade routes. Often a contested area between opposing forces, during WWII, Hitler and Mussolini met on the Pass to celebrate the alliance between their two countries.

Looking out on a hustle of walkers and cyclists, we enjoy a macchiato & cornetto in a cafe opposite the Mussolini-era, brutalist Brennero railway station. From here, our path to Stein is the reverse of this morning: a train, a bus, then a walk to the head of the valley.

We wait in the sunshine for our fellow Dream Way walkers to arrive. When they do, we see the weariness in their gait. They say they progressed step by precarious step, and, 100% focused on not making a potentially fatal mistake, it took them three hours to walk the 200 metres either side of the pass. Joe, the oldest of the group (but younger than us), said quietly that we made the right decision. He looked as if he wished he’d joined us.

The next morning, we wake up in Italy. The sun illuminates the snow on the high peaks and floods our room with golden light. We still have hundreds of kilometres to walk, but we’re pleased to have completed the 265-kilometre crossing of the Austrian and German Alps. Ahead lie the Dolomites, a Natural World Heritage Site famed for its unparalleled beauty and challenging terrain.  

Italy awaits

This is the first of a two-part account of walking the Dream Way (the Traumpfad in German). You can read the second part of our walk, from the Italian border through the Dolomites to Venice, here.