Haus Austria Sauna Apartment: Luxury Awaits!
Haus Austria Sauna Apartment: My Austrian Escape (And My Therapist's Dream) - A Messy, Honest Review
Okay, buckle up buttercups, because I've just emerged from a stay at the Haus Austria Sauna Apartment, and my brain is still buzzing like a caffeinated bumblebee. Let's be clear: "Luxury Awaits" is plastered EVERYWHERE. Did luxury actually arrive? Well, let's dissect this Austrian enigma, shall we? Buckle up, it's gonna get real.
Accessibility: A Mixed Bag (Like My Current Mood)
Right off the bat, I gotta say, the website claimed accessibility. But… and this is a BIG but… I had a hard time getting a clear picture of exactly how accessible. I didn't have any specific needs myself, but I tried to picture it. The elevator? Check. But the details on ramps, wider doorways, etc.? Sketchy. Definitely call ahead if accessibility is crucial. Don't just take their word for it. (And honestly, the website could really use some concrete details and photos.)
On-site Fun and Games (And Potential Regret if You're Not a Sauna Fanatic)
- Restaurants & Lounges: Okay, so technically they had a restaurant. Which was actually a restaurant and a bit of a bar. And, oh yeah, serving breakfast. We'll get to the chow later. The Poolside Bar sounded divine, but the weather… let's just say the Austrian Alps weren’t exactly sunbathing weather when I was there.
- Wheelchair accessible: As stated above, potential issues.
- Fitness Center: Honestly? I peeked my head in once. Let's just say it looked like someone had gathered some equipment and decided to call it a gym. It did its job, I guess. Not the most inspiring, but you could at least work up a sweat before hitting the…
- Sauna! Now we're talking. This is where Haus Austria shines. The Sauna, Spa, and Spa/sauna experience was… intense. I’m not a seasoned sauna-goer, but I emerged feeling like a reborn, slightly prune-y goddess. The Steamroom was also a solid contender for my favourite thing. Honestly, between those and the Foot bath, my toes felt like they were living a better life than me.
- Swimming pool [outdoor]: Closed when I visited. Big sad face. I imagine it’s amazing when the sun actually decides to participate.
Internet Access and Living in the Digital Age (Bless 'Em)
They swear they have internet. They have Free Wi-Fi in all rooms! and Wi-Fi in public areas. And… it’s there? Most of the time? Sometimes? Let's just say, if you're relying on a rock-solid connection for a major Zoom meeting, back up your connection. Internet [LAN] was also listed… for all the dial-up enthusiasts still out there.
Things to DO and Ways to RELAX: My Therapist's Field Day
This is where Haus Austria tries. And succeeds in some areas.
- Massage: A solid "yes." I treated myself to a deep tissue massage, and it was glorious. The masseuse spoke very little English, which added to the mystique. I just stared out the window, silently screaming "Yes! Dig deeper!"
- Body scrub, Body wrap: I chickened out. Maybe next time. I was too busy luxuriating in the sauna's embrace.
- Pool with view: See above - potentially the best part.
- Gym/fitness: (See Fitness Center)
- Gym/fitness: If sweat is your thing
Cleanliness and Safety: Pandemic Preparedness (Thank Goodness)
Okay, this is where Haus Austria REALLY impressed me. Considering the current state of the world, they were on point.
- Anti-viral cleaning products: I can't prove they used them, but I felt they did. The air just reeked of cleanliness. (In a good way!)
- Breakfast in room: Yes! A definite plus for the introverts among us.
- Breakfast takeaway service: Also available.
- Cashless payment service: Very convenient, thankfully. My wallet thanks them.
- Daily disinfection in common areas: Check.
- Doctor/nurse on call: Nice to know, just in case.
- First aid kit: Hopefully not needed, but appreciated.
- Hand sanitizer: EVERYWHERE. My hands were cleaner than my conscience.
- Hot water linen and laundry washing: Crucial.
- Hygiene certification: (I'm assuming so, they are very very thorough)
- Individually-wrapped food options: Smart move.
- Physical distancing of at least 1 meter: Observed.
- Professional-grade sanitizing services: Good sign.
- Room sanitization opt-out available: Nice touch.
- Rooms sanitized between stays: Excellent.
- Safe dining setup: More on this later.
- Sanitized kitchen and tableware items: Definitely felt clean.
- Shared stationery removed: Necessary precaution.
- Staff trained in safety protocol: Yep, they seemed to know what they were doing.
- Sterilizing equipment: Good. Good.
- Safety/security feature: See security
Dining, Drinking, and Snacking: The Food… or the Lack Thereof
Okay, the food was… a journey. Let’s start with the positives:
- Breakfast [buffet]: Meh. Standard, okay.
- Breakfast service: It’s there!
- Buffet in restaurant: see above.
- Coffee/tea in restaurant: Available.
- Restaurants: Plural? More like singular with some effort.
- Room service [24-hour]: Potentially a lifesaver.
- Western breakfast, Western cuisine in restaurant: This is what they leaned into.
- Desserts in restaurant, Soup in restaurant, Salad in restaurant.
- Asian breakfast, Asian cuisine in restaurant. I didn’t see the asian option.
Now the more… questionable elements:
- A la carte in restaurant: Offered. But the choices were limited.
- Alternative meal arrangement: I didn’t try it.
- Bar: The bar was… functional. Don't go expecting a cocktail-making extravaganza.
- Poolside bar: (See above: the sun never fully showed its face)
Services and Conveniences: The Little Things That Can Make or Break a Stay
- Air conditioning in public area: Needed.
- Concierge: Helpful, but stretched thin at times.
- Daily housekeeping: Efficient and unobtrusive.
- Elevator: Essential.
- Facilities for disabled guests: Again, check details, but likely.
- Laundry service: Convenient.
- Luggage storage: Helpful.
For the Kids: Family-Friendly? Maybe…
- Babysitting service: available.
- Family/child friendly: Mostly.
- Kids facilities: Non-existent to my eye. They're there, but they need to be sought out.
- Kids meal: I doubt it.
Access, Security, and the Nitty-Gritty:
- Access: Easy enough.
- CCTV in common areas, CCTV outside property, Security [24-hour]: Felt very safe.
- Front desk [24-hour]: Helpful.
- Non-smoking rooms: Good!
- Smoking area: If you must.
- Fire extinguisher, Smoke alarms: I am not complaining about this.
- Getting around: Okay location. A bit out, but good nonetheless.
- Car park [free of charge], Car park [on-site], Nice convenience.
- Airport transfer, Taxi service, Valet parking, Bicycle parking: These were available.
Available in all rooms:
- Air conditioning: (Thank heavens!)
- Bathrobes: Fancy!
- Bathtub: Needed.
- Blackout curtains: Crucial.
- Coffee/tea maker: Essential.
- Free bottled water: Appreciated.
- Hair dryer: Standard.
- Internet access – wireless: Mostly.
- Mini bar: Adequate.
- Non-smoking: Yep.
- Private bathroom: Of course.
- Refrigerator, Satellite/cable channels: Standard.
- Separate shower/bathtub, Shower: Important.
- Slippers: Nice touch.
- Wake-up service: Did its job.
- Wi-Fi [free]: Mostly.
Final Verdict: Would I Return?
Look, Haus Austria isn't perfect. The food could be better, the website could be clearer, and the sunshine could definitely show up more often
Escape to Paradise: Luxurious Chalet in Dutch Nature Reserve!
Okay, buckle up buttercups, because this isn't your average itinerary. This is… well, it's my itinerary for a week in Nice, mostly holed up in the Haus Austria apartment, which, let's be honest, I booked because of the word "sauna." And the pictures. Oh, the pictures. Prepare for a whirlwind of sun, questionable decisions, and the potential for a minor existential crisis sparked by a baguette.
Day 1: Arrival and the Great Sauna Hope
- Morning (or, more accurately, Late Morning - I'm on holiday, people!): Land in Nice. The air smells like a less aggressive version of perfume and a hint of old fish. Airport chaos – always. Found the tiny, almost comically small Avis rental car. Prayed I remembered how to drive a manual. (Spoiler: I mostly did.) The drive to the apartment was… scenic. Okay, breathtaking. Especially when I almost rear-ended a Vespa. Note to self: French roundabouts are a battlefield.
- Afternoon: Arrive at Haus Austria. Okay, the pictures didn't lie. It's gorgeous. The sauna! It beckons. The balcony? Looks perfect for judging the tourists below. Unpack. (Translation: throw clothes vaguely at the wardrobe). Feel a ridiculous surge of happiness. This is it. This is my week.
- Evening: Sauna time! Ahhhh. Pure, unadulterated bliss. (Until I accidentally bumped the temperature control and briefly considered becoming a roasted lobster). Followed by a glass or three of local rosé on the balcony. Observed the aforementioned tourists. One family engaged in a surprisingly aggressive game of frisbee. Another couple seemed to be having a full-blown existential debate about the meaning of gelato. Decided they both needed more wine.
Day 2: Promenade and the Pursuit of the Perfect Croissant (and Chocolate Addiction)
- Morning: Attempted a sunrise stroll along the Promenade des Anglais. "Attempted" being the operative word. Turns out, my internal clock runs on "late-sleep-and-coffee" time. Ended up with a slightly blurry walk, dodging rollerbladers and the ever-present seagulls. The beach is stunning, though. Pure, shimmering, Mediterranean perfection.
- Late Morning: The croissant hunt! This is serious business. Wandered into a bakery, overwhelmed by the options. Ended up with a truly terrible croissant and a delightful pain au chocolat. The chocolate saved the day. (My blood is approximately 70% chocolate at this point).
- Afternoon: Explored the Old Town. Labyrinthine streets, charming shops, and that distinct smell of sun-baked history. Found a little ice cream shop. Sampled a horrifying number of flavours. The pistachio was the clear winner.
- Evening: Back to the apartment. Another sauna session. Reflected on the beauty of the simple pleasures of wine and balcony views and the slight terror of managing the car. Watched a terrible French film on Netflix. Immediately fell asleep.
Day 3: Eze and The Great Cliff Descent
- Morning: Drove (cautiously) to Eze. Stunning. Truly, unbelievably stunning. The views! The medieval village! The scent of lavender mingled with… something I couldn't quite place but suspected was money. (Very, very expensive perfume maybe).
- Afternoon: Walked down (and I mean down, it was a steep descent) to the sea from the village. I think my knees are now officially registered as "complaining". The journey led to a pebbly beach. It was rough at the start, a bit of a slog to move through, but the water was incredible and the quiet was blissful. Swam in the turquoise water. Almost got run over by a jet ski.
- Evening: Back to Nice. Decided I deserved the biggest, most decadent pizza I could find. Found a place that looked promising. It was not promising. It was… amazing. Followed by another round of wine and balcony-based people-watching. Observed a couple trying to balance a very large baguette on their heads. Gave up after about five minutes. My kind of people.
Day 4: The Art of Doing Absolutely Nothing (and a Panic for Toiletries)
- Morning: Slept in. Gloriously, unapologetically slept in. Woke up feeling like a new woman… or at least, a slightly less grumpy version of the old one.
- Late Morning: Sauna. Again. This time, I got the temperature just right. Added some lavender essential oil for maximum relaxation. Almost considered setting up permanent residence in there.
- Afternoon: The Great Toiletries Panic! Realized I was running low on shampoo, conditioner, and that all-important emergency chocolate stash. Launched a desperate search for a pharmacy. Ended up in a tiny boutique that specialized in artisanal soaps and ridiculously expensive French skincare. Bought everything. Slightly ashamed, but mostly just delighted by the beautifully scented things.
- Evening: Contemplated going out, but the apartment, the sauna, the balcony… they called to me. Started reading a book I'd been meaning to get to. Didn't get further than two chapters. Fell asleep. Again. This is peak holiday.
Day 5: Day of the Markets and the Mystery of the Fish
- Morning: Went to the Cours Saleya flower market. In the morning. It was a sensory explosion. Flowers of every colour imaginable, mingled with the scent of fresh produce. The sheer joy of the market makes me want to move here.
- Late Morning: Wander through the food part of the market. Every kind of food… olives, pastries, herbs… the food smells are incredible. Bought some olives. Very good decision.
- Afternoon: Walked towards the port, and got to the fish market. The whole thing was a bit overwhelming at first, fish I'd never seen before, but it really got me thinking about what I wanted to have for dinner. Ended up buying some fish, because hey, I can cook, right?
- Evening: The dinner of fish. I spent about an hour trying to cook the fish. (It takes a lot more skill than I suspected). It was undercooked, the sauce tasted like burnt butter, and I managed to set off the smoke alarm. (Sorry, Haus Austria.) But, by some miracle, I didn't poison myself. Ate my slightly sad fish dinner on the balcony, feeling a strange mixture of accomplishment and mild despair.
Day 6: Day Trip to Monaco (and The Sudden Urge to Gamble)
- Morning: Drove (cautiously) to Monaco. Because, you know, why not? The opulence! The yachts! The sheer number of ridiculously expensive cars! It's a spectacle, but, my god, the traffic.
- Afternoon: Explored Monaco-Ville. Visited the Prince's Palace. Felt distinctly underdressed. Walked through the Jardin Exotique. Views. Again. They just keep coming.
- Late Afternoon: The Casino de Monte-Carlo. Not being a gambler, I was mostly there for the experience and the people-watching. The place gleamed with money. Walked in. Lost my wallet and ID. Decided to make a quick exit.
- Evening: Back to Nice. Relaxed. Read a lot. Drank more wine. Contemplated how I could have spent a week and the amount of money I spent on it. Realized I wasn't even slightly sorry.
Day 7: Departure and the Lingering Scent of Lavender
- Morning: Packing. Or, more accurately, attempting to shove everything back into the suitcase. The clothes I could re-locate were crumpled and smelled faintly of lavender. Cleaning the apartment. The shower, the windows, the fridge, the floor, the balcony.
- Late Morning: One last sauna session. Said goodbye to the warmth. Sipped a glass of cold water, remembering the trip.
- Afternoon: Returned the small Avis rental car. Handed back the keys, and said my final goodbye to the apartment. The trip was the kind of trip that you just have to do.
- Evening: Flight home. The flight itself was a blur of sleep. Already planning the next trip to Nice. And the sauna. Oh, the sauna.
This, my friends, is how you holiday. Perfectly imperfect, and absolutely my own. Cheers to the croissants, the questionable cooking, and the sheer glorious absurdity of it all!
Escape to Your Dream Dutch Home: Dishwasher Included! (19km Hoorn/Medemblik)
Okay, So, You're Thinking About Haus Austria Sauna Apartment? Buckle Up! (Because, Honestly, It's a Ride.)
What exactly *is* Haus Austria Sauna Apartment? Sounds fancy...and potentially intimidating.
Alright, picture this: a swanky apartment, nestled somewhere in... Austria. Probably. Don’t quote me on the exact location – I’m more of a vibe person, not a geography wizard. And that ‘sauna’ part? Yeah, it’s not just a suggestion. It’s THE selling point, the heart, the soul, the reason you will emerge feeling like you've been reborn. Or, at the very least, less stressed about your taxes. Seriously, the sauna is legit. Like, proper, wooden-clad, melt-your-muscles-into-a-puddle sauna. And it's the reason you might accidentally spend a whole afternoon in a towel, forgetting the outside world exists. Which, let's be honest, sounds pretty darn good, right now...
The sauna... it's *really* good, huh? Like, worth the hype?
Okay, prepare yourself. The sauna. OH. MY. GOD. I'm not even a huge sauna person normally. I'm more of a "mildly lukewarm bath with suspiciously scented bubbles" kind of gal. But this... this was different. Firstly, the smell. That amazing, earthy, pine-y scent that just hits you the moment you open the door. Then the heat. It's intense, but in the best way. You sweat, you detox, you contemplate the meaning of life, and you emerge feeling like you've shed ten years and a whole lot of baggage. I swear, I felt like I could run a marathon *right after* the first session. (Spoiler alert: I did not. I ordered pizza and watched Netflix. Priorities.) Honestly, it's worth the entire trip. Just go. Go for the sauna. Forget the rest. (Although, the "rest" is also pretty good.)
So, besides sweat-induced enlightenment, what else is in the apartment?
Alright, so, they *do* provide other things. Like, a kitchen. (Which, admittedly, I barely used; pizza delivery is a glorious invention.) It's got all the usual stuff – a fridge, a hob, a microwave (essential for reheating said pizza), and, according to the pictures, actual cooking utensils. Then there's the living area – comfy sofas, a TV (bliss for Netflix binging), and usually (I say usually because, you know, imperfections exist!) a balcony with a view. My view? Well, it was slightly obscured by a grumpy-looking tree, but still... fresh air is underrated. The bedroom? Comfy bed, and usually, enough storage for all my "must-have" travel outfits (which ended up being mostly pajamas and bathrobes, go figure). Basically, it's a comfortable, well-equipped place to collapse after your sauna sessions. Or, you know, before your sauna sessions, to fuel your sweat-fest. Whatever floats your boat!
Is it actually *luxurious*? Or just… pretending?
Okay, okay, let's get real. It's not Buckingham Palace. (Unless the housekeeping is *incredibly* discreet.) But luxurious? Yeah, I'd say so, to a certain extent. It depends on your definition of luxury. For me? Luxury is clean sheets, a decent coffee maker, and not having to do the dishes. (Thank goodness for the dishwasher!) The furniture is stylish, the decor is modern (probably leaning towards a minimalist aesthetic, which is a good thing if you’re recovering from a sauna marathon), and everything feels…well, cared for. There's an attention to detail that you appreciate. Think: fluffy towels, decent toiletries, and maybe even a welcome bottle of something bubbly (amen!). Don't expect gold-plated taps, but you can expect a high level of comfort and style. And frankly, after a few sauna sessions, you’ll feel like royalty anyway.
Let’s talk about the imperfections you mentioned! What *didn't* you love?
Okay, here’s the honesty bomb. No place is perfect. First off, the parking. Sometimes (and this is a big *sometimes*) it requires a little bit of navigating in a foreign country with questionable map skills. Which, let's be honest, usually ends with you circling the same block three times. Then, there was the Wi-Fi. It worked... eventually. But on my first day, it took me about three minutes of pure desperation and frustration before it would connect. (Modern life problems, am I right?) Now, I'm not one to let technical glitches ruin a trip, but on that evening I actually had to leave the apartment to access the internet! It was a dark time. Furthermore, the apartment I booked had a view that, unfortunately, was not nearly as breathtaking as the one advertised. (grumpy-looking tree, I'm looking at you!) But honestly? Those things felt almost laughable in comparison with the overall wonder of the actual sauna.
Is it kid-friendly? (Because my kids are... well, they're kids.)
Hmmm... kid-friendly. That depends on your kids. If they can appreciate the sanctity of a silent sauna and understand the concept of "do not touch the incredibly hot rocks," then, maybe. But seriously, the sauna part can be intense, and safety is key, especially for children. So, to be honest, I didn't have kids with me, but this sauna is probably better suited for adults or older teens. The apartment itself is fine for kids, but the sauna is the star of the show. If you're traveling with little ones, I'd double-check with the management beforehand. They'll know more about the specific apartment’s suitability. And hey, maybe a family sauna day could be an amazing experience! *if managed with incredible caution and possibly a child psychologist.*
So, bottom line: Would you go back?
ABSOLUTELY. Without a shadow of a doubt. In fact, I'm *already* planning my return. I’m willing to deal with the imperfect Wi-Fi, the potential parking mishaps, and the grumpy tree – ALL of it – because the sauna is that good. I’m talking "take my money now and just let me sweat" good. The apartment itself is a comfortable, stylish base, but it’s the sauna that transforms it into something truly special – into a sanctuary, into a place of blissful (and sweaty) escape. So, seriously, if you're even remotely considering it... DO IT. Just pack your swimsuit, your favourite book, and prepare to emerge feeling like a whole new, rejuvenated, and slightly prune-y you.
What if I'm a terrible sauna user? I'm really bad with heat...
Okay, even if you're a saunaHotel Hide Aways
