Lost in Translation

Austrians do not get knock-knock jokes.

Exhibit A: told C. various gems from my childhood. He did not laugh.

Exhibit B:

I said, now you try.
Christian said:"Knock knock!"
"Who's there?"
"Christian"
"Christian who?"
"Christian Witternigg"

Much giggling ensued.

Not much to report from this week. I don't have more pictures from the party yet. I spent a lot of the week on the internet looking at apts. and then visiting said apartments. I saw a couple that I like, but we have been looking for so long that Christian thinks our standards should be correspondingly high.

In being-allowed-to-stay-in-the-country-news, C. called the interior ministry and spoke to a very helpful man there, so I that I will hopefully be able to make some concrete progress on Monday. Not having anything to do here is starting to get to me, especially as my friends, who were previously more than happy to have coffee with me at any hour of the day, have now gone back to school or begun studying for exams.

We are in Eugendorf again this weekend, holing up away from the city. I am missing my family a bit right now, as I know that most of the Peacocks are in Waterloo celebrating my Grandma Peacock's 90th birthday and doing other entertaining family reunion things that I hate to miss.

Finally, that red velvet cake... was sort of a miss. Did you know that Europeans do not use measuring cups? Let's just say I need more practice with this whole "scale" thing. Also, Euro cream cheese ≠ N.A. cream cheese and that = cream cheese icing that ≠ good. After sneaking finger-dips into it for a week, I finally threw it (and the cake) out yesterday. Baking was honestly so ridiculous that next time I will try to photo-document it. I have much respect for generations of Hausfrauen that have made such lovely pastries either by free-pouring or weighing their ingredients. Anyway, sad face at inedible cake. Sighs of contentment at having C's grandma's raspberry/whipped cream roulade cake to supplement it. Oh, and, did I mention I almost had a breakdown in the supermarket - after being there for over 90 minutes - because everything has a different name here.....

Anyway, lots of nice things have different names too. For example, the delicious double Americanos that they make are called "ein Verlängerter", and the 1 Euro gelato you can get everywhere is called "Eis". Just to end on a positive note. Bussis.

PS. Most of these are really not that funny.

PPS. Except for this one.

Just to give you an idea...

Red Velvet Cake

Today I have that my-bones-are-jelly feeling as a result of revisiting the Ladies with Anja. We met at 11:30 and didn't leave until 5:00 pm (the lady at the front desk: "You two are still here?). Anja was much less interested in the lying around in the sauna part of the day, which was probably good as I spent a lot more time actually on the cross-trainer than I probably would have otherwise. Either way, post-workout, post-sauna, post-whirlpool, I managed to fall asleep in a hammock wrapped in my towel.

Afterwards C. and I saw an apartment that smelled like toilet and decided not to take it. It used to be a lawyer's office, and was therefore suitably decorated in dark wood-paneling, complete with urinal in the washroom -- which, accompanied by the workmen currently renovating, probably accounted for the smell. The apartment search continues.

Following closely is the job/visa search. No news. Just anxiety.

Christian's birthday is on Saturday, and he and two other friends are having what will most likely be a completely insane night to provide good stories for years to come. Christian, Michi, and Gunter's party will take place in some fraternity house out in the country. All three of them are turning 25. I hope they make it to 26. If there are any survivors, pictures will most likely follow next week.

(Wish me luck in my attempts to bake my first red velvet cake tomorrow?)

UNDER DEVELOPMENT

Christian is going back to school tomorrow, so today was somewhat a tying-up of loose ends. We tied up summer and made valiant efforts to find an apartment, which is going at a slightly better pace than before, but is hindered by Christian's new work+school schedule. Luckily, I am over needing him to go with me, so I will be visiting some places by myself this week, and obstinately expecting the landlords to understand/answer my still-somewhat-garbled German, that has not yet completely come back to me.

Our summer send-off included climbing the Schlossberg and having a picnic on this stretch of grass above a well, that you have to climb over a fence to get to. It is perfectly south-west facing and tilted at just the right angle to feel like the incline of a beach. With brie, and baguette, and beer and books, and tomatoes and some paté-like meat called Streichwurst, we lay in the sun for the mid-afternoon until going to check out an apartment on Annenstrasse.

After the apartment visit we split up, and while Christian went looking for school supplies, I went for a "grosse Braune" on the Murinsel, and then read my book until the sun went behind the trees and the teenage couples around me got too close. Since then I've been looking at more apartment ads - they all start to look the same after a while - and then we are going to C's parents house for dinner and our Tuesday night TV program, which is so shameful I cannot even mention it here... on my blog.

Anyway, we'll see how I do on my own tomorrow. Project Find-Christian-a-completely-amazing-25th-birthday-present is still underway, as are a ridiculous amount of other projects.

Fall in Former Austro-Hungary

Sighhh... OK, here goes. It gets much harder to sit down and write this when I let it go for a long time. First of all, regarding the brew mentioned in the previous entry, I have been told by various official Austrians that I can't get a work permit unless I qualify as a Qualifizierteschluesselkraft worker (basically a "qualified essential worker"). This means that in order to get a work permit I have a minimum starting salary of €2400 before taxes (= €18/hour). Not exactly an easy thing to tell prospective employers, especially since so far my prospective employers have said that they will only hire on a freelance basis. Anyway, this is boring and I am tired of talking about it. Possible solutions include getting a UK Working Holiday Visa to allow me to stay in the EU while I look for jobs that will pay me so much; this also allows me to work in the UK, should the Austrian job market prove impenetrable. My other option is to go back to school and stay on a student visa, which allows me to work part time.

Not knowing where - and more importantly if - I am going to be working makes it hard to decide on what I want/can afford in an apartment, but what makes it even harder is that THERE ARE NO APARTMENTS TO RENT HERE. This is driving me crazy. Yesterday I found an ad in the Friday paper for a 2 bedroom apartment in the inner city, €594, heating included. No pictures, no details, just a number. We called right away and were told we could see the apartment today in the evening. At 5 pm, Christian got a text message that the apartment had already been rented even though the ad was only posted yesterday. This may not sound so bad, but it is symptomatic of what has been happening to us left and right, and indicative of the way there are so many people looking for apartments that landlords can ask for ridiculous amounts of money and there will still be a line up of people for an apartment that smells like fish. *End of Rant


The lovely adventure that broke up this otherwise frustrating week was our bike trip to Slovenia on Wednesday. We left Graz around 10 am, following the river that runs through the city, and traveled south towards the border. Once you get far enough south, the Mur actually becomes the border, and so for awhile we were biking along knowing that the riverbank on the otherside was Slovenia. The whole trip took about 7 hours, including a few photo breaks, lunch + nap, and two distinct bicycle breakdowns which Christian dealt with very effectively. We kept getting past by people on fancy touring bikes, but for two people on "vintage" (old) three-speed bikes, I think 5.5 hours for 70 km is pretty decent. Most satisfying was passing a huge group of Austrian pre-teens on their mountain bikes, although it did remind me that in some places, kids actually get to go on field trips near water.

When we got to Mureck, an Austrian town with a border crossing, we went through the long ordeal of customs - crossing a bridge - took some photos, and went back to the otherside. During our mini-Slovene photoshoot, we saw at least 4 people cross the bridge from Austria and go into Dep. to buy cigarettes before turning around and going back. Rather than stock up on cigarettes, Christian and I spent our evening at the border-town at a Buschenschank drinking their wine and eating their homemade food, before a sleepy trainride home.

On a completely different note, I was surprised and disappointed to hear - from Christian's friends Thomas and Hammer who recently traveled to Belgrade - that the Belgrade Pride Parade had to be canceled because the police chief announced that they could not guarantee the safety of its participants. Apparently the following day, they found bricks and stones that had been stashed along the parade route in preparation for violence. Maybe its because I don't get a newspaper, but I didn't hear about this in the news at all, and I think it is the sort of thing that needs to be publicly condemned. The violence, not the pride parade, obvs. [Just googled; you can read about it here]

OK-- Here are some pictures from Eugendorf and our Slavic cycle.

Reprieve

I know, I know... I let it go again and there is no excuse. Can I just say that it's because things have been brewing, brewing, and nothing (positive, at least), is really sure yet, so I have been waiting until I have some news?

You should know, at least, that Christian and I went to Salzburg last weekend, and were spoiled, and that I have pictures from that to share-- as soon as I find my camera charger (hey I am still living out of a suitcase ok?).

You should know, too, that we are biking to Slovenia tomorrow and that I will inevitably have something to share after that, finished brew or unfinished brew.

But for now, writing things down means I have to dwell on them, and I'd rather not. Just know that I'm alive and happy about it, for now.

Do I want to live in Graz's version of the Bronx?

We are looking at apartments in a neighbourhood that has basically completely escaped gentrification. Despite this/Because of this/Having nothing to do with this, the neighbourhood is also a bit sketchy; it's not dangerous, and honestly, having never been to the Bronx, I don't know how accurate Christian's comparison was, but for me, it was like the St. Henri to our current neighbourhood's Mile End. Lots of immigrants, lots of kids hanging out on street corners, Turkish teenagers on scooters: none of these are really reasons not to take the apartment, but as we were biking around and the sun was going down, I couldn't help feeling like I wouldn't feel that comfortable walking home alone at night.

In its favour, this neighbourhood is inexpensive but still central, contains our favourite club (Postgarage, home of the Worst of the 90s parties and Russian Style Disco, etc.), is near a really cool vintage store, and contains two apartments we have both looked at and liked. Also comes with accompanying cred of living in a neighbourhood completely devoid of 'Bobos', the Austrian equivalent of yuppies.

Against it is the fact that while Postgarage is right around the corner, Postgarage is bordered by a park is definitely sketchy, and a little bit further down the street is a Mill*... Like a Quarry, next generation. Finally. I grew up in Mount Royal. I never had to learn street smarts. When we looked at the apartment today, I accidentally left my purse in my bike basket. I don't know if I have what it takes to live there.

What do you think?

*Christian sent me the link to the Mill's website to contrast my creepy impressions about it. I don't know... That font is pretty sinister.

Diary of Katie Peacock

Boyfriends (finally on same continent): 1, Roommates: 9, Reunions: plenty, all joyous, Jobs: currently none but working on it.

Am currently v. frustrated by inability to change line spacing from 1.5 to 1.0 even though have clearly done it in previous posts (see that one about point form). Also currently omitting subjects in all sentences as have been reading Bridget Jones all day and cannot avoid duplicating writing style of similar diary-entry format. Very much obliged to official BFF Lara Branson for peer-pressuring self to read said book (am currently on sequel) despite much reluctance on part of self.

Yesterday Christian and self went for dinner at Monika and Norbert's (You know Monika and Norbert, darling, Christian's parents!) and ate delicious and v. European style raclette. C. had to work all day, so had spent all of previous afternoon wandering around, reacquainting self with city and enjoying favourite activities of European haunts gone-by. After such haunting was therefore understandably excited by prospect of melted cheese and grilled meats plus vegetables for dinner. Experienced state of such gastronomical fulfillment that promptly fell asleep in Anja's bed after dinner (with Christian and Anja), although this may also have been caused by residual jet-lag and/or (most likely) being forced to watch NCIS.

Was lovely to be reunited with rest of Witternigg family as were practically adoptive parents while was here for European exchange, even going so far as to name family hamster after best friend, in manner of keeping her around even after she was gone (i.e. they liked the name). Not only were Monika and Norbert v. welcoming and friendly (somewhat appeasing residual guilt about luring their only son to far away country), but Monika began dinner by telling me about an advert she had seen in Friday's paper, which stated "ENGLISH NATIVE SPEAKERS WANTED" and then gave only a mobile number. Called today and spoke with an Irish woman named Brita.

Brita goes to Austrian equivalent of Junior Highs and teaches English with focus on communicative skills (i.e. not grammar, hurrah!). Was told more but don't want to ruin it as... am meeting with same Brita (hopefully have not butchered name on public blog?) on Wednesday morning. Am somewhat skeptical as:

1. Brita does not live in Graz
2. We are meeting in the main square next to where the tram arrives and does not seem formal enough to be real "interview"
3. No real pressure was felt on phone; Brita seemed pleasant and didn't make me feel as though I had to work to obtain this interview in any way, but did mention that she had had various replies to advert so maybe she is just playing the field.
   
4. Generally just seems much too easy and am therefore innately skeptical but also naively hopeful that skepticism will turn out to be cynicism and optimism will be rewarded as faith in human kind.
   

Tomorrow will continue apartment search with boyfriend and possibly provide summary of 9 (nine!) other people within walls of current lodging. Amendment: will only post again if can figure out how to regain 1.0 line spacing and also if can stop self from writing in ridiculous (though, if may say about self, quite accurate) parroting of Bridget-Jones-style documentation. Will resume use of pronouns! Tomorrow. Promise.
UPDATE: Coerced boyfriend into helping with HTML (after various attempts resulting in completely butchered formatting of blog) and line-spacing now conforms to high standards held by self. *Bats eyelashes at boyfriend* See? It's wearing off already.

Preliminary Findings Upon Moving (Back) to a Foreign Country

1. This is how things went as we were walking towards Christian's apartment for the first time, suitcases in tow:
Me, in my head: "I can't believe we live near such a pretty square... That is my favourite cathedral...Hmm, Cafe Chat Noir... I don't remember seeing it before... I think that will be my new favourite haunt. I'll go there all the time and drink coffee and read books and think about life... I wonder what it's like inside..."
Me, to Christian: "Have you ever been there?"
Christian: "No. That's a brothel."
Me:"..."

2. Apparently, in Austria, a beautiful sunny day with a temperature of 20 degrees ≠ summer if it occurs after September 1st, and if you go outside wearing a white t-shirt and shorts you will be publicly puzzled over, perhaps even scorned. This tip may be particularly pertinent for Canadians who, like myself, see any day above 15 degrees as fair game for full summer garb, including cut-offs, sunglasses, sandals, etc.

3. The door to Christian's bathroom is made out of GLASS. I know that he pointed this out to me last night, but today when I was nakedly washing my face in front of the mirror, I only remembered when I saw the shape of his blonde male roommate move to the left of me. Christian maintains that you can't see through it, but for my part, I maintain that being able to see a flesh coloured silouhette is see-through enough for me.

OK I have to go back outside but will probably add more after inevitable further ridiculous moments. Good to be back.

I've been thinking in point form

WONDERFUL THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED IN THE PAST TWO WEEKS:

1. My German class started again, with an unbeatable time table and an appropriate level of difficulty.
2. I got my marks back for my first semester: all 1's, which means all F's. Ha! Not really, that means all A's! Only downside being that these marks don't count towards my McGill GPA.
   
3. Today when I went to pick up my essay from my James Joyce teacher, he praised my essay and then asked me if I would be interested in editing (!) a collection of essays (!) that is being published by the Anglistik faculty(!). *The exclamation marks are me being really excited.
4. I got my Visa today, which means that I am officially allowed to be in the country, which is good because today was officially the last day of my three free months in Austria.
   
5. The classes that I am taking this month are all interesting, but at the same time complement my able-to-enjoy-Europe time table, and also accommodate mini-breaks.
6. Christian bought me a romance novel set in Ireland.
   
7. The other day when I was biking to school past these bushes full of yellow blossoms, and looking at the sky because it smelled like rain, I realized that the sunglasses that I got at Topshop make Spring in Graz even more beautiful than it already is, and they match my bike, which I also enjoy.
8. Spring has come to Graz, and it tastes (like Gelato), smells (like flowers and rain), looks (sharp and sunglass tinted), sounds (like people drinking coffee and wine spritzers on the streets), and feels (like lying in the park) delicious.
   

Having listed what is currently lovely in my life, here are the highlights of our trip to Ireland: (First, as some background information, we left for Ireland on March 13th, "we" including Christian's friend Stefan [Rody]. We rented a car at the airport, picked up the keys to Kevin's apartment, and headed off, without knowing exactly where we were going. We spent the next week driving around, back in Dublin for St. Patrick's Day, some more driving, Rody left Ireland on the 21st, and Christian and I continued to drive around/have adventures until the 27th when we headed back to Dublin for our last three days. We flew back to Salzburg on the 29th, and were back in Graz on the 30th.)

IRELAND/EIRE/DARK ROSALEEN Ten Notable Memories, in Chronological Order:

1. Sketchiest Building in Belfast: We arrived in Belfast after having already been in Dublin, Trim, Slane, Navan, and seen ruins at Newgrange, Tara, Trim, and some round tower whose name I don't know. It had been a nice day, but by the time we got into Belfast, it was dark and raining and we didn't know where we were going. The only map we had at this point was in the front of the Lonely Planet. As we were driving along Falls Rd. (which we would later read about as the division line between Protestant and Catholic Belfast), there was a bit of confusion in a traffic circle, and our little Toyota Yaris was hit by a taxi driver. When they saw our Irish license plates, the people circling round us in the round about started heckling us, and yelling (incomprehensible Northern Irish dialect) things at our car. The taxi driver directed us just around the corner, to the "office" of his taxi company. About four or five men were standing in the dark front room, which was completely empty. In the back corner, there was a door with a sign that said "It is illegal to smoke on these premises". Behind the door was a tiny room with a plywood bench, and three men smoking and sitting in front of a tiny TV, perched beside a phone on a small desk.
2. Giant's Causeway: After randomly spending a night in a little town called Bushmills, home to the oldest licensed whiskey distillery in the world, we got up early and headed to the coast, to the Irish half of the Giant's Causeway. Apart from the unique geological wonder that is the hexagonal stones of the Giant's Causeway, what makes this one of the best segments of our trip was the fact that when we got there, we were all alone. We climbed through the Irish grass, that is so long and thick it seems like its the fur of a living thing, and walked along the tops of the cliffs, bracing ourselves against the ocean winds that can (and have) swept people over the edge and dropped them (not gently) on to the rocks below. The highlight was lying on our bellies looking over the edge at the Atantic below us, safe in the thick grass carpet, with the wind slipping over us.
3. St Patrick's Day in Dublin: As someone who has experienced not a few St. Patrick's Days, both in Calgary and Montreal, I was actually a bit surprised at how un-Irish-themed the parade was, but I guess in Ireland everything is Irish, so they don't have to go out of their way to thematize their parade. There were significantly less leprechauns and significantly more giant inflatable animals. After the parade, we noticed that compared to Montreal, the streets were pretty much dry. Despite the fact that the Irishness and public beer consumption are some of the best parts of St. Patrick's Day in Montreal, the best part of St. Patrick's Day in Dublin was definitely the sheer ridiculous magnitude of the crowds, and the sheer number of pubs in the Temple Bar .
4. Seamus O'Conomy: After leaving Galway, we started making our way along the North West coast, towards Connemara. As we stopped at a crossroads to get our bearings, a harmless looking man crossed the road, and leaned against the window of the driver's side, asking Christian if we needed directions anywhere, or help finding our way. Closer up, he had a friendly looking face, but dirty, and smelled like whiskey, sweat, and cigarettes. He was gripping Christian's hands, and when we assured him that we knew where we were going, he asked if we would mind giving him a ride about halfway to the next town. We hedged a little bit, as we weren't actually sure which way we wanted to go, and he crossed the street and stood on the side of the road, in the direction that he wanted to go. Then we realized that was the direction that we had to go. Unable to bear driving past him, we cleared out the backseat, and picked him up. Over the next fifteen minutes, he gave us some tips about which towns in the vicinity were worth seeing, based solely on the number of pubs in each town. Once we dropped him off at his large, if dilapidated, home, we realized that we had never asked his name. So we named him Seamus O'Conomy.
5. Abandoned Village/Inaccessible Castle: On the way from Galway to Clifden, we saw a castle on top of a hill, and decided to try and find out how to get to it. While fruitlessly circling the hill in the car, we noticed that, though there were lots of relatively modern looking houses, they were almost all uninhabited. We finally met a woman jogging along the side of the road, who told us that the castle was privately owned, and only accessible from the beach. We decided not to leave without at least giving it a try, so we parked our car at the beach and started to climb the hill. Our perseverance was preempted, however, by a tall stone fence, topped with barbed wire and TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED signs. We circumnavigated the fence almost 180 degrees, and then, flouted by bog, we made our way back to the road. As we were walking back to the car, disappointed, we noticed even more than before how strange the village was. The yard we cut through to get back to the road belonged to a fairly large Bed and Breakfast, fully furnished, but with no cars and no one in sight. Most houses had for sale signs, and newly built houses stood empty beside stone houses that looked more like ruins. As we passed one of the older abandoned houses, a dog came out and started following us. He was friendly, but from the scars across his face and the look of his coat, I figured that he had been abandoned. He walked with us a bit farther towards the beach, and chased every car that went by, so I named him "Dummkopf". Anyway, we never found out what the deal with the castle was, but I found it on google maps, at least, so you can see it if you go to the google maps link.
   
6. Achill Island: In terms of singularly most impressive moments, stopping by the side of the road to take pictures on a sort of miserable day, and discovering that we were on the edge of the island, seemingly with the whole force of the Atlantic ocean crashing up against the rocks just below us is probably the number one. We couldn't tell if it was raining or if the wind was just throwing the water at us, and getting the cars doors open against the force of the wind.
   
7. Aran Islands: As part of a series of excellent plans, Christian and I flew to the Western-most point of Europe. We were the only two people on our shuttle to the airport, and the only two people on our ten-seater plane to the island. Once we got there, there were no security procedures, no baggage pick up, we just walked off the runway straight to the road, and started making our way towards the town. As we were going around the cove, we realized that the tide was out, so we cut across the beach. Halfway through we met an ankle deep stream that we traversed in our bare feet, and walked the rest of the way barefoot in the sand. Once we had dumped our stuff at the hostel, we rented bikes for the afternoon and biked around the island. We started out along the eastern coast of the island, and then cut across to one of the coolest ring forts that we saw in Ireland, right on top of a huge cliff, facing what would have been the end of the world when it was built. Post-fort exploration, we spent the later part of the night in the pub that was next store to our hostel, which had a stove in the middle, and a small table right in front of it. We spent all of our time in the pub at that table, drinking either Guinness or Bailey's Coffee, like good Irish people.
8. The Unmarked Ring Fort: On the way back towards the town, we were on the lower side of the island, which is basically a big tilted slab of rock. Christian spotted a lighthouse at the top of the other side of the island, and, after some negotiating, we headed up the hill towards it. When we got there, the lighthouse was closed, but we self-navigated around it, over fences, around sheep, and through cow paddies (which is basically metonymic for travelling in Ireland), and made our way to a second ring fort. This one was less impressive than the cliff top one we had visited earlier, but in contrast, this one not only had no admission price, but there was not even a sign pointing towards it. There were sheep grazing just outside the entrance, and it was obvious that some cows had recently been inside the 3000 year old structure. The fact that these things just stand there, unprotected from the elements, without changing was the coolest part for me. We were climbing stairs that have been climbed for that long, and we were seeing the same views as the people who built it built it to see.
9. James Joyce Centre: Walking tours weren't available until April, and Christian had less than a lot of enthusiasm for Joyce, so our visit to the James Joyce Centre was mostly me going "oh oh" and "ohhh", but asking the guy who worked at the gift store to mark my map with places worth seeing was really cool, if only for the familiarity with which we were both able to refer to scenes from the books, which I had just finished writing an 18 page essay about. Walking past pubs and knowing that character's from Dubliner's skipped work to drink there, or knowing that one of Bloom's inner monologue's took place on the corner where I was standing was really cool for a somewhat dorky literature student. As we crossed the James Joyce bridge and ended up right in front of the house in which "The Dead" is set, I pretty much fell in love with Dublin's literary history.
   
   
10. Guinness Storehouse: Having already visited the Bushmills Distillery in Northern Ireland for an authentic and educational tour, seeing the Guinness Storehouse was sort of like going to Disneyland after Heritage Park. Pretty much the only things I know about Guinness, which I knew even before the tour, are the four ingredients: barley, yeast, hops, water, which are repeated over and over in various multimedia representations throughout the seven floor Storehouse. The reason this makes the highlight list, then, was the seventh floor 360 degree view of Dublin from the Gravity Bar, enjoyed simultaneously with a free pint of Guinness, complete with Joyce quotes on the windows, each corresponding to its own Dublin setting.

This is an extremely comprehensive collection (826) of Christian's photos from Ireland. You can probably set the speed to 1 second per photo and still get a pretty good idea of our trip. Please note, using this technique will not allow for full enjoyment of the superb quality of aforementioned pictures.

January in Review

Saturday, January 5: Left Calgary with the satisfaction of having a free lunch at Earl's and the knowledge that I would soon be seeing three of my favourite people in Europe anyway. Arrived in Salzburg after the longest and more torturous flight ever, to a lovely boyfriend with flowers. When we got back to Eugendorf, we ate meat fondue with Christian's family, and then settled back in front of German TV.
Sunday, January 6: Monika, Anja, Christian, and I went to the ski jumping competition in Bischofshofen, which was really cool. It is crazy how much the Austrians are into skiing. We were pretty much the only ones there for a Sunday activity. Pretty much everyone else had been drinking since noon, and the people in the houses on the little alley that leads to the ski hill were all selling beer from their backyards.
Monday, January 7: German class started again, but I slept through it.
Tuesday, January 8: First pub quiz after Christmas break.
Wednesday, January 9: First day back at University. Sometimes it is really strange when I go to school first thing in the morning without having spoken to anybody first, because I forget that everybody else is speaking German, and spend a few minutes not understanding anything that’s going on.
Thursday, January 10: Christian and I had been planning to celebrate our Christmas when I got back from Canada, but then it happened that his gift was not entirely ready, so postponed it a little bit. We ate Christian's Montreal-Style-Pasta, and opened our presents. Christian got me a really pretty blanket to be wrapped in when I nap and The Sound of Music on DVD -- including a karaoke version, which we watched as an end to the Christmas party. The best part was being able to go "I've been there", "I've been there" for almost every scene. When my parents come visit, we are going to do the Sound of Music tour, and then I'll be able to say it for every scene.
Friday, January 11: After annoying Christian by taking a ridiculously long time to get ready, we went to Thomas's house and met up with some of his friends before going out to PPC (a bar near Thomas's house). Luckily Martina came over to Thomas's as well, or I would have spent the whole night ignorant to the fact that the boys around me were talking about whether it would be possible to regenerate the human race with only one woman and two men. Actually, though, sometimes not understanding their German is fine.
Saturday, January 12: As per our monthly tradition, Christian and I went out for dinner at one of the two Indian restaurants in Graz: the fancier one. It was delicious, but not too different from the other restaurant, where we got to have a whole room to ourselves while we ate. Afterwards, I went home to read, i.e. sleep in satisfied bliss, while Christian went to Remmi Demmi.
Sunday, January 13: Sunday was spent desperately reading Ulysses in an attempt to prepare for Wednesday's presentation in my James Joyce class.
Monday, January 14: Woke up and knew that somewhere in Montreal, Danny Wilson was turning 21 years old. Met with Manfred to perfect CBP presentation, and then went to the Ladies to read Ulysses in a heated tile chair.
Tuesday, January 15: Pub quiz, but I didn't go because, as Christian, beside me, is dictating: " I was being a Streber and stayed at home"
Wednesday, January 16: One of my most stressful days in University history. At 11:00 I had an oral presentation in my Contemporary British Plays class, on Epic Communcation Structures. The highlight was when I used the word "constructediality", paused, and then said "wait, that’s not a word is it?" to a room full of non-Native English speakers. After my CBP class, I had German from 1 to 3, and then went back to the Uni at 4 for my James Joyce class, where I had another oral presentation to do. That one didn't go as well, mostly because I was so conscious that I was blushing throughout the entire thing, that I kept blushing because I was blushing, which distracted me into stammering, so that the Austrian guy who went after me probably spoke more coherent English than I did.
Thursday, January 17: Resolved not to use my brain at all in order to compensate for its overuse in the preceding days. Instead spent a few hours browsing Ebay and reading Perez Hilton.
Friday, January 18: We were planning to have people meet up at our house and then go to a bar, but it turned in to an accidental party at our house. Our apartment is really awesome for parties because the kitchen has a bar, and the living room is nice and big with lots of chairs. The other convenient thing is that when you have parties often, people leave bottles of alcohol, and then that comes in handy for the next party that you have. So really, party throwing is just this nice, social, self-perpetuating thing, and I am glad that our apartment has become the place where everybody casually meets and ends up staying.
Saturday, January 19: Random stuff at home.
Sunday, January 20: In the morning I studied for my CBP final, and then Christian took me on a Graz field trip to the Grottenbahn and Stadtmuseum. The Grottenbahn is this little train for children that goes through tunnels inside the Schlossberg. It basically looks like a mineshaft, except that along the sides of the tunnels are dioramas of traditional fairy tales. The tunnels are completely dark, except that when you stop in front of a diorama, the lights in front of it come on. Christian told me that as a kid he used to ask to go there every time they visited Graz. I found it unbelievably creepy to think that the 40 year old doll Snow White stands in the dark with her glass eyes all the time, as did the little girl behind me who cried for the entire trip. At the Stadtmuseum we went to an exhibit on the past 100 years of postcards from Graz. It was really well done, as it was set up in a timeline so that you could see how photos of the same places changed over the years, and the postcards were hanging so that you could read both sides, which I loved. If you visit me, I will probably take you there.
Monday, January 21: Stayed home and cooked something delicious.
Tuesday, January 22: Met with Manfred and another girl to prepare for test on Wednesday, and then went to the Pub Quiz.
Wednesday, January 23: Final exam in Contemporary British Plays.
Thursday, January 24: If we did anything this day, it wasn't exciting enough for either of us to remember it.
Friday, January 25: First of many exams in my German class. Christian went to PPC and I stayed home and studied…
Saturday, January 26: Saturday was completely beautiful. I had wanted to go to Ladies and read Pale Fire while sitting in my favourite heated chairs, but I stupidly did not check the opening hours before I left, so I detoured to the Witterniggs house, and arrived just in time for the cake that they were eating for desert. After eating delicious Grandma-baked-cake and drinking coffee with Norbert and Monika, I walked to the park near their house with Anja, and we read in the sun for awhile. I read Nabokov, she read Goethe. Christian arrived a bit later, and we had dinner with the Witternigg's and then went to Martina's house where I kicked Christian's ass at Uno (not that it was hard).
Sunday, January 27: As usual, when they remember, I had a lovely webcam with my parents. There was a cool but sort of scarily bad wind storm in Graz, so, logically, Christian went up the Schlossberg despite the police warnings, and then to the Stadtpark where half the trees fell down, while I stayed home to read Pale Fire and listen to the windows shake.
Monday, January 28: See January 24th
Tuesday, January 29: Martina and I had operation "Find a Ball Dress 2008" and, after having a sushi lunch together, we did some extreme shopping at Seiersberg. Very much to Martina's credit, she did not loose patience with me as we systematically went through every single store that sold dresses and I said no to dress after dress. Finally, in the very last store, pained by blisters from trekking through the mall, we found a pretty dress for 70% off and went home happy.
Wednesday, January 30: Unlike anything that has ever happened to me at McGill, after my last Joyce class on Wednesday evening, the Prof. took the 8 other students who were there out for beers at the Anglistik faculty bar.
Thursday, January 31: I got up early and called my mom to wish her happy birthday at exactly midnight because I am such a good daughter. Went to my German class and napped (not at the same time), and then Martina and I went to get our hair cut. On Thursday night we had a bunch of people over to eat delicious Thai Curry and I divided my time between finishing my oral presentation for school the next day and socializing with our guests.

I hope that this pretty exhaustive blog post makes up for the fact that I have completely failed in my 2008 resolution to update this once a week. I will try to make February a bit more regular, and therefore a bit more current and interesting. For example, right now I am in a hotel room in Vienna while my parents sleep off their jet lag, and in three days I will be visiting Lara Branson in Prague. We have February off for the semester break, and we are travelling to Ireland for two weeks in March, so life promises to get a bit more exciting soon. I am having so much fun.

Housewarming²³

Reitschulgasse 7

The past five nights I have slept at my new apartment, something that has taken a long time to achieve. It will be some time yet before the apartment reaches the level of prettiness and homeyness that I anticipate, but sleeping there is good for a start.

On Saturday Christian and I spent about a week at Ikea. It is much harder to start from scratch than to buy things for an empty apartment: we have to find curtains for three different rooms, a table and chairs, a duvet and cover, and, among other things, a way of covering our inherited, unattractive couch. The couch apparently originates from a species of Ikea couches spawned before they wore removable covers. I vacuumed it really well (so that you can stop having nightmares about dust mites, mom), but it has about 18 years worth of spilled drinks and cigarette burns. Unlike the couch, the apartment is still fresh and full of potential. Hopefully we will be able to order our curtains - they have a sewing/hemming service instead of pre-made ones - and then start to feel more at home. Still to be done are hanging some pictures, hopefully painting a wall or two, choosing lights, etc. I think that I will really feel at home once we have the internet there, which will be in about 2 weeks. It seems silly, but having to go somewhere else to use the internet makes it feel unfinished. Nonetheless, waking up in my own apartment - the first time Christian and I have lived just the two of us - is really cool.

As home is coming together, so is school. I am finally enrolled in four classes, plus my German course 18 hours a week. On my timetable are: "Theories Applied to Texts: Herman Melville, Moby-Dick", "James Joyce", "Contemporary British Plays", and the most recent addition "Madness in Literature: From Shakespeare to the Present". I find it funny in Canada mid-terms are over, while I went to my first class on Friday. Even though I was admitted late, I only missed two courses. However, despite my brief delusion that school here would be easier, as a native English speaker with only one class per course per week, I found myself to be a bit overwhelmed by work this weekend. Not just work, but work, and moving, and life all together. I have term papers in all four uni classes, two of which are 20-25 pages (!), one 15-20, and one thats length has not yet been announced, but will probably be about 20 pages as well. No wonder people here take 2-3 classes a semester.

School here is kind of ridiculous in that way. Because Austrians pay something like €15 to go to university, and can be students as long as they need to, the university is a bit less orderly than what I am used to. The basis for this opinion is my recent experience with my Moby Dick class. The first week that I was registered in the class, I knew which building it was in, but not the exact class, as it was not on the internet. I got there 30 minutes early, but 15 minutes after the class was supposed to start, got frustrated and went for dinner. The next week, I figured out which room the class was in, and got there early once again. There are only 8 other people in the class, however, and I didn't want to be the first person in the small room, so I sat outside with a view of the door, and waited. Once again, 15 minutes after the class should have started, I had not seen one person on the same floor of the building. With a stomach knotted from frustration, I went home and sent a desperate e-mail to the class list, along the lines of "Tell me what I'm doing wrooooooonnnnnngggggg!" Apparently, when the class met for the first time, they agreed that the course will only happen on certain dates, at certain times, none of which the Prof. felt the need to tell me when I emailed him about taking the course. On top of that, those courses that we do have will consist only of other students' oral presentations; everybody has to make one presentation of a literary theory and another of how that theory applies to Moby Dick. At the end of the semester, those topics make up the 25 page paper that is due. It is kind of scary, but at the same time it is so different from McGill that I kind of love it anyway.

Other than going to classes and preparing for classes, I am now a member of the Austrian spa/fitness centre called..."Ladies". It. Is. So. Nice. It is (obviously) for women only, so using the weights in the weight room isn't a matter of navigating your way through biceps and glutes and triceps and pecs. There is a schedule of drop in classes that you can attend whenever you want; I have already been to Pilates, and only missed Yoga to move. Next, all of the cardio machines have mini TVs in the front of them, with cable, which will be nice considering that we are not going to have a TV at the apartment. You'd think it would be hard to beat TVs in the treadmills, but it gets better. In the basement is the spa. There are three saunas: dry and hot, dry medium temperature aromatherapy, and steamy. There is also a whirlpool that is somehow a temperature that both relaxes and refreshes you. But my personal favourite touch is definitely the heated lounge chairs. My plan for this semester and the next is just to take whatever reading I have to do for school to the spa, and spend the day lying in a towel on the heated chairs. In Montreal I had the library, here I have the spa.


Anyway, as you can probably gather from this entry, things are going well here. Christian is busy getting ready for the mulled wine stand that he and his friend Rody run during the Christmas season for the University. I am looking forward to going there after classes for some of the delicious Glühwein, and hopefully I will be able to work there as they need me in order to make a bit of money before Christmas. We are having a housewarming party this Friday, to which anybody who thinks they can make it is invited. It is too bad that the apartment won't be finished, but the party is also supposed to be for Christian's birthday, which was October 3rd, so we didn't want to wait too long.

La Bella Italia

I would like to start by apologizing for taking so long to write about Italy, because I know you have probably been dying to hear all about, and about the other developments of the past week. It is funny to be writing about last weekend right now, because tomorrow and Friday are holidays, so it is already the weekend for me again. You should probably get a comfortable chair and some snacks, because this is a ridiculously long entry. Ok, here goes:

Thursday, October 25

We woke up at 6:30 to finish getting ready, and then Rody picked us up at 7:00 in his tiny little turquoise Fiat. The adventurers included Rody, Hammer, Christian and me. We had a seven hour drive in front of us, but it was only about ten minutes after picking up Hammer that I got a sense of how the trip was going to be, when the boys starting talking about how many "Haertepunkte" (hard points) Hammer would get for drinking a beer. They decided on 5, and so began our trip.



I slept until just before the Italian border, which, I have to say, was a little bit anticlimactic. I was hoping that there would be signs to the effect of "BUON GIORNO BENVENUTO IN ITALIA!!!! SPAGHETTI SPAGETTI CANOLI". But, in reality, the sign just said "Italy", and the mountains looked pretty much the same on both sides of the border. Plus, because of the EU freedom of movement zone, they don't even look at your passport (or stop your car), so I wasn't able to collect a stamp on my passport. Despite this, driving farther in to Italy definitely satisfied the image I had in my mind. Even though we were pretty much only in the most Northern part, it started to look like "Italy".

The reason we had left so early was to get a chance to see Verona before making our way to Pavia, where we would stay with Christian's friend Philipp Mirtl. We got to Verona around 1 pm, parked the car, and spent the afternoon wandering around the city where Shakespeare set Romeo and Juliet. We saw a really old Roman castle, the Arena, that is pretty much falling apart, and the foundations of an Roman building three meters below where the street now lies. Perhaps the most touristy thing we did was to go to the house known as "Villa Capuletti" which is marketed as the house of the city's most beloved fictional female character. There is an admission price to go inside and see the tombs where Romeo and Juliet died. I found the whole thing very strange, that people were willing to pay to see a random Veronese home, just because it has a very strategically placed balcony. The only part of the Capulet myth that we bought in to was to write our names on the walls of the entrance for good luck.



After smoking a Romeo y Julieta cigar on a bridge in front of a truly Italian vista, we said goodbye to Verona, and drove the rest of the way to Pavia. In Pavia we met up with Philipp, and were introduced to the very hard, cold stone floor that was to be our home for the next three nights. I had my first of many pizzas at a small restaurant, my first of many Bloody Mary's at the only bar in town, and my first realization of what it is like to travel alone with four boys.

Friday, October 26th

On Friday morning we took the train to Milan, which takes about half an hour from Pavia. The day was cold and wet, and I will say right away that I enjoyed most of it less than I should have due to the wardrobe miscalculation of wearing flats sans socks in the light but persistent rain. Nevertheless, Milan is a beautiful and impressive city, cold feet or no cold feet. Upon first arriving in Milan, we were on a mission to meet Rody's Italian girlfriend, Paola, which meant walking past boutiques like Prada and Vivienne Westwood without stopping. We met Paola in a square in the center of Milan, which, she explained, is where they host Milan Fashion Week. Armed with a veritable Italian guide, we walked into the square that hosts the Duomo.

The Duomo is without a doubt the most impressive piece of architecture that I have ever seen, especially considering that is was built in the fourteenth century. We saw the inside of the Duomo, and then followed Paola and Rody to a restaurant where we ate more pizza. After lunch we sought shelter from the rain in the form of the Vivienne Westwood exhibit that was going on near the Duomo. Though I may complain about traveling with boys, they were really obliging about seeing the exhibit, and I found it really amazing. It was a satisfying way to see some fashion in Milan without getting snotty looks from store clerks. After seeing the exhibit, Rody walked Paola to the train station, and Christian and Hammer and I went and bought me a pair of less ridiculous shoes. We wandered around a bit more, and then headed back to the train station. We spent Friday night in Pavia at the same bar as before, which Philipp claimed is pretty much the only bar in town. It is called the Black Dog, and in true Italian style, it's an Irish pub.



Note that we all wanted to see The Last Supper, but apparently you have to make an appointment to see it, and it was booked until December 8th, 2007.

Saturday, October 27th

Saturday morning was rough. The floor of Mirti's (as he is called by his Austrian friends) bedroom was so hard that it felt as if the floor was pushing up against you. Hipbones and ribs felt raw, and muscles felt stiffer than the night before. Thank god, we had the comfort of seating five people in Rody's Fiat to get some rest on the way to Bergamo.

I am pretty sure that the only reason we particularly chose Bergamo to visit is that it is close enough to Paola's village for her to meet us there, but I am really glad that we did. It was my favourite day of the whole weekend. Somehow the dreary weather of the day before was replaced with bright blue sky and warm sun, so that we spent most of the day walking around in t-shirts (though I had chosen this day to wear boots instead of flats). Bergamo has an old city and a modern city. The old city is situated on a mountain within the middle of the modern city, accessible only by six gates or Funicular. On top we saw beautiful old buildings, churches, amazing villas, and the view of the city below us from a look out point on the very top of the mountain. We drank coffee in a 700 year old cafe, ate the most delicious gelato I have ever had (even if it wasn't free). Sitting at a round table in the cafe, we made the decision to take the train to Milan for the night, which set the course for our second adventure of the day.

Back in Pavia, after the hour and a half drive from Bergamo, I got ready to go out in Milan in less than 20 minutes. Unbelievable, I know. The plan was to get to the train station quickly enough to follow the rest of the ERASMUS students to a dance party that they were attending in Milan. We got to the train station in time, only to find that they ticket machine wasn't working and none of the other people were there. As they eventually arrived we figured out that we could buy our tickets on the train, but also that our options for taking the train home were either at 1 am (about two and a half hours from then) and 6:30 in the morning. This prompted a serious discussion about whether or not it was even worth the trip, especially considering that Rody had 7 hours to drive the next day. Finally, the train came and we got on it.



When we got to Milan, with about twelve ERASMUS students (ERASMUS is a European university exchange program), we soon realized that none of them actually knew where to go. They were following an Italian friend named Mathias, who was pretty close to being shady. We got on the metro and stayed on for about half an hour, passing even a station called "Uruguay". That's how far away from Milan we were. When we got off the metro, "Mathias" directed everybody on to a bus. We had really only been planning to check out the party and then consider our options, having been under the impression that it was in the square in front of the Duomo, but at this point we decided that things were getting a bit ridiculous. We got off the bus, and went back to the metro station only to be told that we had in fact taken the last train. Fortunately, Rody's Italian is good enough that a bus driver was able to tell us which buses to take to get back downtown, and we ended up near the centre of Milan again.

Seemingly back on track, but now without definite plans, we realized that Italy, like Quebec, has a ridiculous can't-sell-alcohol-after law, but in Italy it applies to bars as well. You can't even by a glass of wine in a restaurant after 2 am. With this in mind, we made our way to the Castello of Milan, where we found a street vendor selling beer. Keeping in mind that we now had to entertain ourselves until our train home at 6:30, we settled in in front of the Castello and had a couple of beers each. It was still clear, and not warm, but not too cold. We sat on the benches outside the Castello for awhile, and then decided to walk through the Castello. While standing over what used to be a moat, I believe, we realized our outrageous fortune. Instead of having three and a half hours left until our train, we had chosen to explore Milan by night at the exact time when the clocks roll back an hour. I think it is the first time in my life that I have ever resented gaining an hour. After accepting our fate at the Castello, we walked through a National Geographic photography exhibit about equilibrium, which was really cool - and had a disproportionate number of photos from Canada.


The Castello at "3:00" in the morning, when we realized we had an extra hour to wait.

After the photo exhibit, around 4 am, Rody, Hammer, and Mirtl caved and decided to head back to the train station for some sleep. Christian and I decided to explore. First we went to the square in front of the Duomo. Seeing it on a clear night, from an empty square was much different than the day before, and much cooler. After taking in the Duomo, we walked through the Galleria, which is basically a semi-outdoor Victorian shopping mall. There is a huge Louis Vuitton next to a huge Prada, which are both across from a huge.. McDonalds. We had been here, too, during the day, but at 4:30 in the morning it was completely empty, and it had an echo. In an effort to relax and warm up a bit, we seated ourselves on a heating vent for awhile, and then finally walked down the fashion mile to meet the others at the train station. Until we got to the train station, I had been totally absorbed in the magic of spending a night wandering around Milan. I was caught up in the romance of the idea. But as soon as I sat down in the train, the romance was gone, and in its place was just exhaustion. I don't really remember anything else but getting in to a taxi in Pavia that took us home from the train station, and then waking up at 11:00 the next morning, once again on the cold stone floor, but with a really cool memory to take away from it.



The rest of Sunday, October 29th

After we finally all got dressed and ready to go, we said thanks and goodbye to Philipp, and drove to meet Paola in Rovetta, her village in the mountains North of Bergamo. From there we drove to Lovere, where we went for a walk through the village, and then stopped for our last Italian pizza of the trip. The pizza and the company ended up being so good that we only left Lovere around 7 pm, with the 7 hour drive left ahead of us.



The drive was, thankfully, uneventful. We stopped often for gas, which cost around 1.37 Euros per litre, and for espressos for Rody. Around 2 am I woke up to realize that we were only blocks away from the apartment. I don't think I have ever been so happy to see a bed in my life.


I really enjoyed our trip to Italy, and am happy to finally have been, but it was actually strange to be there. It almost felt as if the Italy that I had imagined was more real that the place that I was visiting, because I have seen it in so many different representations. We are planning to make a more extensive trip into the South some time in the Spring, and maybe the different region will be more what I expected. I am almost nervous about seeing Venice now, because I have imagined it for so long that I don't want to be disappointed. Although, I don't think it would be easy to be disappointed by Venice.

Right now it is 12:40 on Wednesday night, and I should be getting ready to go to Salzburg tomorrow for All Saint's Day. We didn't celebrate Halloween, mostly because the only Halloween celebrations here seem to be weak imitations of North American traditions, as they pretty much only adopted Halloween in the past few years. All Saints Day is a celebration of the dead, and tomorrow we are going to Salzburg so that Christian's family can visit the graves of his dad's parents and his mother's father. We are driving up tomorrow, and then taking the train back on Saturday for BJ's birthday.

When I come back, you can hear all about: my new apartment and how pretty it is, as well as our plans for moving in, the luxurious Austrian spa/fitness centre that I am now addicted to, the classes that I have been attending and enjoying, and the rides on my shiny new-to-me bicycle.

Happy Halloween and I hope that you miss me tonight, because I am definitely missing you.

Final Härtepunkte scores

Christian: 19
Rody: 14
Hammer: 13
Katie: 12
Philipp: 9

First Visit to Salzburg Photos

If the Flash player doesn't work, just click on "First Visit to Salzburg" Album, under References. There is another new post below this one...

Schmeckt gut!

If I had to describe this weekend in only one word it would be “indulgences”. Luckily, I am allowed more than one word to elaborate.

On Friday night Christian and I made the long trek to his friend Steffi’s birthday party, who lives all the way on the fifth floor of the same building. This was especially convenient because the weather has been cold and rainy, thus I was one of the only girls who arrived with non-frizzy hair. Steffi studied at the Université de Montréal last semester, so it was nice to see a familiar (female) face. The party was really fun. There were lots of other exchange students there, so both English and German were being used. I spoke French to a French girl who complimented me on my lack of a Québécois accent, to which I replied that I had spent the last two years trying to acquire one. Along with all the exchange students and Steffi’s other friends, Christian’s regular group of guy friends were also there. There are six other boys that pretty much do everything together: Rody, Hammer, Mickey, Bőrnd (pronounced Bernd), Thomas, and BJ. Most, if not all – I’m not sure – have known each other since elementary, and all stayed friends. They are all really nice and have been really welcoming, which continued on Friday night. When we go out with them, I don’t feel like I am just tagging along. Anyway, they were all there on Friday night, although no one else had brought their girlfriends, which was kind of annoying as I crave girl contact. Steffi wouldn’t let anybody leave, so even Christian and I, who had been planning to stay late, left later than we had intended, at 5 in the morning.

The next day’s indulgence started when we woke up, at 1:30 in the afternoon. I won’t bother writing much more about Saturday, except to say that I did all my homework, read Anna Karenina, and didn’t get out of my pyjamas all day. Despite having woken up so late, I still managed to fall asleep around midnight.

Sunday we slept in, but not too late, and got ready to go to the “Buschenschenk” with Bőrnd and Martina, his girlfriend. The Buschenschenk is basically the Austrian wine district, where families have small restaurants on their property where everything they serve comes from their own gardens, farms, and vineyards. I wanted to have the most authentic Austrian Buschenschenk experience, so I ordered a Brettljause: a platter with different kinds of meats, sausages, cheeses, and spreads that comes with a basket of breads. Our bread was so fresh that it was still warm. There was turkey, ham, prosciutto, sausage, meat spread, a garlic tzatziky (sp?) like spread, but thicker than tzatziky, cheese, pickles, peppers, and tomatoes. We drank a Styrian specialty called Schilcher Sturm, which tastes like gourmet Boones. It is an immature wine, but it is opaque, and you can’t seal containers of it or else it will explode, so you have to drink it really fresh. Martina was driving home, so we also ordered a bottle of the house white grape juice that is so sweet that you have to dilute it with water. After the Sturm, we ordered a bottle of white wine to go with our dessert, which was so refreshing after the savouriness of the meats and the sweetness of the Sturm that it might have been the best white wine I have ever tasted. For dessert, Martina ordered two pieces of cake that ended up coming in three separate pieces because they are so big. One was a white cake with marmalade, brown sugar and nuts on top, and the other was a large roll of white cake with marmalade in the middle. I think if we hadn’t left then, we would never have made it out of our seats, so we went for a walk around the vineyard, picking grapes off the vines, and taking pictures of the colourful hills.

While Martina drove home, I fell asleep in the back seat, and woke up beside the apartment building. As soon as we were inside, I lay down on the couch and slept. Two hours later, I was woken up for dinner: cheese fondue. Had it been any other day, I would have been more than happy to eat chunks of baguette dipped in melted cheese and white wine, but on this day, it seemed like a daunting task. But, the picture of graciousness, I struggled through. Of course, it was delicious, but after dinner I walked up 24 flights of stairs to try and make up for the outrageous amount of cheese that I consumed. So ended my weekend of indulgence.

This morning Christian and I biked back to the second hand bike store, where I finally found a pretty, reasonably priced bike. It is a girl’s bike, all white, including the handles, pedals, and the basket on the back. Christian pointed out that it looks like the bike equivalent of an iPod. To get out of the cold rain, we went for coffee and then both biked to our respective schools. Tomorrow I have school at 8 am again, for six hours, and then I have to go to the university to convince various professors that they should let me into their classes, even though they might be full.

I don’t have school this Friday, for a national holiday, so we are probably going to drive to Italy with Christian’s friends. I am really excited for my first international European trip since getting here, and to go to Italy for the first time. It makes up for not getting to celebrate Halloween. Hopefully we will get to move in to our apartment when we get back. Our lease starts November 1^st, so we are hoping that they will finish moving out this weekend so that we can start getting our stuff in. I am so excited about everything right now that even non-indulgence days are pretty wonderful.

This isn't exactly the same thing as what we had, but it has most of the same things. The next picture, though, is the exact Buschenschank that we went to, but the grape plants were full of leaves, and there were still some grapes.

A Day Out/A Night In

THINGS THAT ARE RIDICULOUS ABOUT AUSTRIA (in no particular order):
1. Everyone has three types of recycling, including "Bio-müll" which is compost, and the apartment building has a giant, well cared for compost downstairs, which is more awesome than ridiculous.
2. It is usually cheaper to order a half liter of beer than 250 mL of Coke in a bar.
3. You can smoke in the malls, and most public washrooms have an ashtray in the stall.
4. It is legal for the passengers of a car to drink while driving, and it is legal for the driver to drink while driving, as long as they are under the legal limit.
**5. The toilet paper is literally as thick as paper towel. Maybe it is just another symptom of a mindset German classes and on the train.
**6. You have to pay/tip to use some washrooms. And I don't mean because there is someone to hand you a warm cloth. The first bathroom I "visited" in Austria was at a gas station, and there was a man sitting outside the door with a little plate for coins. Apparently he is in charge of cleaning the bathroom, and that is where he waits for his tips. Not all paid-bathrooms are clean, however. One public toilet at the Stadtpark had no towels, no toilet paper (not even single-ply) but still required a 20 cent fee.

It may be clear by this post that talks mostly about the Austrian "W.C." that I haven't had a particularly exciting day. I had German classes from 8 - 10:30, and then Christian met me for coffee. We went to the bike store and saw two really pretty inexpensive girl's bikes, but one had the wrong price on it, so I am going to go back on Monday to see how much it will be. After Caritas, Christian went to school and I came home, neither of us realizing that I didn't have any house keys. His dad let me in to the apartment when he - fortunately - came home for Mittagessen about an hour later. I spent most of the day changing the template of this beautiful blog, doing German homework, and taking refuge from the nasty cold wet outside. Right now I can hear Christian and Anja bickering in the living room (where they are watching Popstars).

It has been a quiet day, but it is comforting to think that things are moving forward, and that I still have time for both vivifying and relaxing days.

International German Students Unite

Though much has been happening, I haven't been able to write in the past few days, mostly due to exhaustion and activity. I started my German classes on Monday, and have already completed 12 of this week's 18 hours of learning. The thing that surprised me the most about the classes is how the students are from such varying backgrounds. I had expected a lot more North Americans, or at least English speakers, but in fact, I am the only native English speaker out of about 20 people. There are students from Bosnia, Kosovo, Egypt, China, Iran, Russia, Thailand, and Nigeria.The class is about half girls, half boys, and about half of the girls are married. One of the things that being in such an international environment has made me realize is how I took for granted that the way that I was brought up was "normal". Today in class I was trying to imagine all the different experiences that so many people must have, to have all ended up in the same room. I'm sure that the childhood and adolescence of Julia, the Russian girl, must have been as different from my own as Mohammed's, who is from Egypt.

The classes themselves are fun, and there is a really nice feeling among the students. Every one is very kind to one another, which I find really enjoyable. Though English is sometimes used as a common language if the German equivalent is unknown, the fact that no one really speaks the same language means that we are forced to speak German to each other. Because there is no other choice, every one is patient and helpful. I don't know whether it is a cultural difference, or whether it just differs from my own experience, but the attitude of the students here seems to be in stark contrast to the indifference most students have for each other at McGill. In the three days that I have attended classes in Graz, I have learned more about most of the students in my class than I did in a semester of German classes at McGill.

So, I am very much enjoying the company of the other students in my class, but the class itself has actually been a bit disappointing. The teachers are helpful and I like the way that they are teaching us, but most of the material that we are learning is stuff that I learned halfway through my German class last year. There is another placement test in about two weeks, when, they have told us, we will be rearranged according to our results. I would like to be in a class that is more challenging because I really want to improve my German, and I don't think it's going to get any better going over stuff that I already know. On the other hand, if we have 18 hours of class a week, it is possible that this class will get harder pretty quickly. I'm going to sit it out until the placement test, and then see how I do.

Other than school, we went to the Office Pub for the weekly Pub Quiz last night, and came in 8th, up from 16th the week before. I was able to contribute a lot, which was satisfying. Can you answer: "Which N.R. celebrity was born Nicole Camille Escovedo?" After the Quiz we went for Kebap at a stand near our new apartment. I am so excited to live there. It is so close to everything that we will just be able to have everyone over to our house instead of having to argue about which bar or restaurant to meet at. Unfortunately, the Germans have told us that they probably won't be ready for us to move in until the end of the month. This is particularly annoying at 7:30 in the morning, which is when I have to leave for school in order to get there in time from Christian's parents house. From our new apartment it will only take about 10 minutes. SIGH.

Ok-- I have to go to bed. I have a feeling that this entry wasn't as well thought out as others, but I have been so keen to do German homework that I am already tired at midnight. Tomorrow I finish at 10:35, so Christian is going to meet me at school (in part so that the Bosnian boys stop trying to marry me) and we are going to go look for bikes. Gute Nacht.

"The hills are allliiiiiiiiiiivvvee"

This weekend I started to love living here. Christian and I took the train to Salzburg on Friday afternoon, and got to his Grandma's house around 7:30 pm - Abendessen hour. The first thing we did was sit down to eat meats with cheese on bread, with beer. This is conventional Abendessen food (which replaces dinner), while the hot meal of the day is eaten at lunch: Mittagessen. Both Frühstück (breakfast) and Abendessen (dinner) basically consist of bread with either jam and butter or meat and cheese, respectively. Mittagessen comes with salad, and is usually some sort of hot meat dish or pasta. It took me a little while to get used to not having a hot meal at the end of the day, but it is nice because you are not so full after dinner, so I have gotten used to it. We'll have to see whether I revert to Canadian meals when we have our own apartment.

Friday night was quiet. Quiet as in I fell asleep around 11:30. Saturday morning we got up early to go spend the day in the city of Salzburg. Christian's grandma lives in a small town outside the city, called Eugendorf, so we took the bus from the Eugendorf to Salzburg. First we went to see the Mirabellschloss - a palace that one of the arch-bishops of Salzburg built for his mistress and their ten children - and the gardens that surround it. After finding our way through the gardens and the hordes of Japanese tour groups, we walked through the city towards the Altstadt (old town). I stopped to take a picture of a beautiful old fountain that was actually built to wash horses, where the stables used to be. The fountain is in front of one of the mountains in the city, and Christian told me that when his other grandmother lived in Salzburg during the war, they had to hide in the tunnels within the mountain whenever the city was being bombed. It is strange to hear stories like that from the German-Austrian side of the war because they are the same stories I heard in Canada, but from the other side.

As we continued walking through the Altstadt, I started to realize how beautiful the city really is. It feels more untouched than anywhere I have been in Europe before. Having said that, they were making a Bollywood movie in the square that kind of ruined the Old Europe atmostphere. After lunch at a festival, we went on a tour of the Festung Hohensalzburg, a castle at the top of one of the mountains, and then we walked through a really old, beautiful cemetery along the bottom of the mountain. I will post the pictures here once they are developed, because the whole day was pretty spectacular. When we got back to Christian's Oma's house, we ate more delicious Austrian food: Bratwurst with Sauerkraut and Semmel, an Austrian bread that they eat three times a day, and, of course, beer. Beer pretty much replaces milk and water as a meal time drink here.

This morning we slept in and woke up to a beautiful day. It is still really warm here, and the fields are still green, and the garden is still in bloom. Everything we ate for breakfast was from the village except for the butter, which came from Salzburg. Lots of the food is organic just because it is from such small gardens that they don't use pesticides. At breakfast Christian's Oma suggested that we go for a "walk", and then proceded to dig up her hiking boots for me to borrow. Christian drove to to the mountain that she had suggested, and it seemed like a daunting task. We both suggested just driving around long enough that she wouldn't be suspicious. But, we drove to the beginning of the trail, and then hiked the rest of the way up the mountain. It was beautiful to be in the Alps, above the clouds, and the mountain looks over Salzburg, so that I could see all the places that we had visited the day before. There is an Almhütte (pub/restaurant) at the top where we had a delicious beer, and then made our way down the mountain. On the way down, with green hills and winding roads below us, I couldn't contain, "the hills are allliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiivvvvee with the sound of muuuuuuuusic..." and a couple of twirls. But a beer on an empty stomach and dancing on a steep path don't really mix, so we finished the trip back and made our way home for Mittagessen.

We're back in Graz now, and I am still kind of glowing with the satisfaction of such a good weekend. I feel like we were away much longer than two nights. Tomorrow is an important day: I have my first German classes, and I have to pay my tuition/register for university. Hopefully the fresh Austrian air will have done me good.



The hill on the left is the Gaisberg, the mountain we climbed, which I admit is less impressive looking in this photo than it was from the bottom, and the city in the background is Salzburg.