Hallstatt is a village of barely 750 people wedged onto a strip of shore between a lake and a near-vertical mountain. There is so little flat ground that the tall narrow houses are stacked up the slope behind one another, and a few can only be reached by stairways cut into the rock. Until 1890 there was no road in at all; people arrived by boat or over the mountain. The lake is the Hallstätter See, dark and deep, and the Dachstein massif rises straight off its far side. Salt built this place: it has been cut out of the mountain above the village for around 7,000 years, and that trade paid for the houses on the shore. It also made the village important enough that an entire age of European prehistory is named after it.
Arrive early and the lake often lies under a sheet of mist, with the church spire and pastel houses doubling on still water. That lasts until the buses come, and they come: up to 10,000 people a day, most on a short stop. Above the roofs, the Skywalk terrace juts twelve metres out over the village, some 350 metres above the water, and a funicular climbs to the salt mine. Deep in those tunnels stands the oldest wooden staircase in Europe, built around 1344 BC. Beside St Michael's chapel, a small charnel house holds more than 1,200 skulls on wooden shelves, hundreds of them hand-painted. The village ran out of burial ground centuries ago and this was the answer. Behind the waterfront, stepped lanes barely wide enough for two run up past window boxes and the Mühlbach stream where it tumbles through the houses. Barely 750 residents against a million visitors a year is a balance the village now argues about openly.