ヴェルター湖周辺のおすすめバス停からハイキング＆ウォーキング

Due to renovations, there will be no observing evenings until May 2026. https://www.sternwarte-klagenfurt.at/

Winegrowing on the Seewiese meadow in Klagenfurt has a long history: for over 40 years, in fact. On an area of more than half a hectare, the city's winegrowers have planted vines of Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Blanc, Chardonnay, and Riesling for white wines, and Zweigelt, St. Laurent, Blauburger, and Merlot for red wines. The city's winegrowers are happy to offer guided tours of the vineyard, followed by a wine tasting, by appointment. The vineyard is located on the circular hiking trail around Lake Wörthersee.

Guided tours take place on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Located close to the city center, the Kreuzbergl is a popular local recreation center with an observatory, botanical garden, mining museum and small ponds

A place made for real-life operettas: the Peter Alexander Pier in Pörtschach not only bears the name of an entertainer, it is one itself. As soon as you step onto the wooden jetty, you involuntarily hum a melody, somewhere between Viennese charm and Carinthian lake romance. The jetty juts confidently into the turquoise waters of Lake Wörthersee – an anchorage for boat trips, memories, and a touch of wanderlust. Behind you is the promenade, in front of you is the open water, which in the sun looks like liquid light. Standing here, you see not just boats, but scenes: the flirting teenagers on the railing, the elderly couple with their cameras, the captain in a white shirt – everything seems like a stage production in soft blue-green tones. "Ahoy at Lake Wörthersee – the Caribbean of the Alps," says a sign. And rarely has a tourist slogan been so apt. Peter Alexander would have loved it.

There are places that speak not only of nature, but also of culture. The view from the vineyard across the lake is one of them. Between the vines, which grow in a row toward the light, stands a lounger. Not an ordinary one, but one made of wood, with patina and poise. Those who sit down here not only become part of the panorama—they are stilled, in the truest sense of the word. The lake sparkles like a well-chilled white wine, the opposite shore nestles against the water, and in the distance, the Karawanks rise as if nodding silently. Up here, time becomes soft. Thoughts tumble from blossom to blossom like the last bees of late summer. And for those lucky enough, a light breeze will touch them with a hint of Riesling and emotion.

Those who venture out of the maze of Klagenfurt's alleyways, the sounds of ice cream parlors, buses, and construction sites, will find a quiet counterpoint above Lake Wörthersee: the Zillhöhe. A place made for people with tired legs and a wide view. The path up leads through a sparse mixed forest where the trees still know how to cast shadows without chasing the sun. Birdsong instead of traffic noise, the scent of pine instead of exhaust fumes – and at some point, you find yourself standing in front of a wooden pavilion that looks as if someone had deliberately placed it precisely where the world comes to rest a little. Next to it is a wooden bird feeder, half-hidden in the greenery, which the surrounding birds apparently appreciate as a canteen. And then – through the trees – it flashes into view: Lake Wörthersee. Turquoise blue, as if someone had simply relocated the Alps to the Mediterranean. Up here, time is more generous. Conversations become slower, thoughts more airy. The view isn't just for your smartphone, it's also for your heart. You see how the lake blends into the landscape, how villas and forests nestle along its edge, and you can't help but fall silent as well. A place that wants nothing – except for you to stay. Maybe with a snack. Maybe with a book. Or just for the sake of it. Because anyone who has ever sat here understands why some places don't need much to be special – except a wooden roof, a birdhouse, and a view that stretches far.

Just a few minutes from the center of Klagenfurt, and yet with every step through the Villach suburbs, you seem to gain a little distance from everyday life. At the Kreuzbergl, the city begins to stretch towards the sky. And at the very top, it sits enthroned, the small baroque church with its two red onion domes – as if someone had dabbed two drops of blood onto a mustard yellow. The view? Majestic. The Karawanks like a painted backdrop, the roofs of the city at your feet, and above, nothing but sky. But the real experience lies beyond the church: the Stations of the Cross. A few steps, three crosses – and suddenly it's quiet. No more cars, no more strolling, no more shops. Only the foliage above you and the shadow of the centuries. When you sit down, the wind whispers to you. Of the city that is changing and of what remains. Of the burden that everyone carries – and of the grace of pausing for a moment. Perhaps that's the secret of Kreuzberg: that it doesn't tower over you, but rather meets you at eye level. With vision, yes – but without arrogance.