The wrong mountains
A painting that just about didn't happen.
Innsbruck, Austria. September 2025
This painting just about didn’t happen. For several reasons. Bear with me as I explain (and relive) a series of minor setbacks.
My train rolled into this mountain town late in the evening, and my old friend G met me at the station. We walked back through the dark to their apartment, where her husband, J, was waiting. I’m lucky to have friends all over the place: almost magically, three sets of very good friends live about one day's train ride apart. That made planning this trip super easy.
I’ve shared a little bit about my trip before: the sketchbook I filled in Berlin and Poznan, my big drawing day in Prague and a crazy day trip I took from Zurich, but here is what I got up to in Innsbruck.
It’s a mountain town, nestled between two huge ridges. The Alps go straight up, and while we do have hills in New Zealand, there’s nothing quite like this, so I needed to go up there.
Hiking in New Zealand means slogging up the hill and packing a lunch. Here, I could avoid the slog with a cable car, and the tourist brochure promised a large, moustached Austrian man would cook me a big schnitzel and serve it with an even bigger beer.
Sounds good, right?
First thing the next morning, I catch a bus to the gondola station. After getting off at the wrong stop (who puts a big mural of a gondola at the stop BEFORE the gondola station?) I arrive to find the gondola closed. Too windy, apparently, even though there seemed to be barely a breeze. Looks like I’m walking straight up. There’s still that beer and schnitzel at the top.
The trail was easier than expected. After a while, I stopped to draw. There was a convenient seat with a view. I got the scene down, and one of the few people I saw that day briefly stopped to check the sign, so I drew her in. I said hi, but we didn’t talk beyond that.
A few drips of rain started, so I didn’t colour the drawing. I’m glad I drew it, though. As always, the photo didn’t do it justice. Maybe the drawing didn’t either, but doing it helps me to remember it.
I carried on to Lanser Alm, but my promised burly schnitzel cooker was nowhere to be seen in the little hut. In his place was a slight, softly spoken and clean-shaven man; clearly not your typical Tiroler. The prayer flags outside and the Schweinefleisch momos and Nepalesisches curry on the menu gave away his origins.
I wolfed down a large, delicious bowl of spicy noodle soup as I warmed up next to the fire. “This is mountain food,” said the proprietor, “but from the wrong mountains.” He joked that he came to Europe and just kept heading uphill until he felt at home.
I didn’t get the schnitzel, but he did pour me a huge beer to go with my Himalayan food.
After lunch, I carried on across the ridge. An hour or two later, as I arrived at another Alm, I drew it under the shelter of a pine tree. Inside, I found my moustached Austrian man. I ordered a coffee and an apfelstrudel and tried to start a conversation by showing my drawing. He responded with a grunt and turned the TV on, loudly. I had thought of adding colour to my drawing here, but I finished my food and drink quickly and got out of there.
I slowly made my way back down the mountain and got a bus back to town, where I found Schnitzel for dinner. The day was brilliant. Great views, great exercise, great food. And a few more drawings in my sketchbook.
But the drawings still weren’t finished. I had planned paint them that evening, but I stayed up late, talking with G and J (no regrets!). I had some downtime on trains later in the trip, but it was so scenic that I made new drawings.
Back home in New Zealand, the uncoloured drawings hung over me for months. This book has quite a few from the busy end of the trip, where I drew a lot but didn’t always have time to paint. After getting back to Wellington, there was work and hanging out with my wife and kids again. Life is busy. Finishing the sketches felt like just another job, and I felt guilty about not doing my homework.
Recently I realised how stupid that is. I got an amazing opportunity to take an awesome trip, and now I get a chance to relive it by revisiting these moments months later. It’s actually BETTER than finishing them straight away.
A couple of weeks ago, I stretched a half-sheet of paper in the studio. Over a few evenings, I turned it into a big painting, and thought about that day in the hills above Innsbruck.
I changed a few things between the sketch and the painting, mainly adjusting the trees around, but I kept the vibe the same. I also replaced the random visitor with myself, wearing my rebuilt backpack and the yellow hat I wore on my trip.
The painting had no real purpose. It wasn’t just-another-job. It felt good.
I’ve got some other unfinished drawings from this trip that I’m looking forward to revisiting soon. Some of them will be big paintings like this.
Happy drawing,
Andrew
PS: I’ll be back in Europe this summer. There are only three places left in my workshop in Oslo.









Like your story. You will love Norway!