When the Samson comes
Told by Balthasar & Luzia
We know it already in the morning. For others it's an excursion. For us it is home. The Samson doesn't dance just anywhere. He dances in front of our door. And we know: our inn is part of it. If you take a holiday in the Lungau in summer and happen to be here on a day like this, then perhaps you'll be standing next to us. And looking up too.
Afterwards
When the procession moves on, it grows quieter again. We go along, through the lanes and streets. The music draws away. Us in the middle of it. The market square slowly empties. And we step back inside. Into the inn. Where the guests are sitting. And telling, excitedly, what they have just seen. And we think: yes. That was our Samson again.
Why we love it
Because he is big. But not strange. Because he is tradition. But alive. And because every year he dances in front of our house. And that is something special.