Christmas markets are something Austria is definitely not lacking in, but when we heard that our regular summer beach spot, Lignano, was holding a Christmas market over December, we thought… why not? Something different. And definitely warmer than cold ol’ Austria. So, we packed ourselves and the in-laws up, and off we went to see what it was about.
Continue readingLiving in a German world means I spend a lot of time translating text. Sometimes I can do it as I read along, other times I put that text into Google translate to give me a quick hint. And these days a lot of stuff is automatically translated, especially online. Sometimes the translations make sense. Other times… you get results like the ones below.
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We had some strange weather this year. Steady and predictable to begin with, then a delightful blistering heatwave, followed by some days in July that I can only describe as… cold. Cold as in the outdoor pool dropped back to below 22 degrees and I didn’t bother swimming for a week. The season finished well though, with late warmth going right into October.
All things considered, the garden did pretty well. And there was even a lovely sunflower as an accidental centrepiece.
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Was I crazy for considering a weekend away, just me and my toddler? Some would for sure say yes, others would say go for it!
The idea began forming after I came home from Australia earlier this year… as a way that I could re-connect with Sammy after such a long absence. But the months went by and I baulked when it came to actually booking. I have to admit, I was afraid. How would it work? Would I survive? Holidays with kids are not holidays, it’s just parenting in another location without the comforts of home.
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I love summer. With good weather, long nights, the swimming pool open and the garden to nurture, there’s plenty to do. So, since Sam’s not yet in school, we generally plan holidays in shoulder season when it’s quieter, and cheaper. But all of a sudden, summer was about to end, and I hadn’t organised anything.
That’s how it came to be that I was due to head away every weekend in September.
And guess what? It was too much.
Continue readingAs I’ve said before, I’m not a huge fan of sharing my fiction. Still, every now and again I let one out of the cage. So, here’s a story that was chosen for inclusion in one of Stringybark Stories’ books a few years back. Enjoy!
(You can visit http://www.stringybarkstories.net for more info on Stringybark Stories).
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I’m guessing that most people who are used to warmer climates would assume that Austrian winter is brutal. And it is in many ways. I mean, not Iceland brutal, but still brutal.
I’m not going to lie. I hate winter here. I hate it with a passion. I’ve written many blog posts on that very topic. Like this one. And this one.
But in many ways, growing up in Melbourne winter was also not fun. Because yes, it’s cold. And when I say that to people here… well… they do not believe me at all. In fact, they think I am being ridiculous. They scoff at me, as if to say… what would you know? They ask, well, what is a cold winter’s day. And I say… well I guess we’re looking at 10 or 12 (and I’m cringing internally as I say it because I know what’s coming). And then there’s more scoffing. More ridiculing. Because in Austria they would dream of such glorious winter temperatures.
But the cold hits different in Melbourne compared to Austria. And here’s why:
The wind
The ice-cold arctic wind. Actually direct from Antarctica. Sure, temps might be up to ten during the day, but the wind chill can be soul destroying (once again, not Iceland soul destroying).
We don’t dress for it
In Melbourne I had a coat or two. And I’d rarely get them out. Because… why? Unless you’re going skiing or have to commute on public transport you’re not going out in the weather for too long. And you’ll grin and bear it if you do! I never had winter-specific exercise clothes. I never had more than one wardrobe. Whereas in Austria, I have at least 10 different coats of varying lengths and thicknesses and a stash of beanies and mittens I use on a regular basis. I have exercise clothes fit for winter, and so essentially I have an entire extra wardrobe of clothes to call upon when it’s cold. So sure, it is definitely colder in Austria, but if you dress for it, it doesn’t feel so bad.
Melbourne houses are not built for Winter
As I sit in my Austrian house with its thick, concrete walls, I think fondly of those quaint wooden houses in Melbourne, where the temperature inside is basically the same as it is outside. Insulation was minimal. Heating was not a guarantee. Sure, things have improved somewhat since I was growing up, but I remember wearing a beanie to bed. I remember breathing smoke out of my mouth in bed. I remember sneaking the little electric heater into my bedroom and getting in trouble cause… fire hazard. We, and many others I remember, had a single gas heater in the living room of the house – that room was barricaded shut, and the rest of the house was an igloo. Hence… wearing a beanie to bed on occasion.
Meanwhile in Austria…
I’m regularly wearing t-shirts inside during winter. Why? Cause the heating is turned up so high it’s barely necessary to wear a jumper. Of course, you have to wear a thick jacket over your clothes to get from the car to the shopping centre, but once you’re there you can simply put your coat in a locker, and go about your day as if it’s not -2 outside!
So while I do understand that it is colder in Austria, and I understand that houses here definitely do need to be heated, I just want to say that I’ve never sat on a toilet seat as cold as some of the ones in deep Melbourne winter. And I’ll stand by that!
Even at a point where I understand German fairly well, and can keep up (for the most part) in conversation, it still manages to catch me out.
This has happened multiple times… I’ll be sitting, for example, with a group of people at a friend’s place, in a conversation that’s been going on a while, predominantly in German. Perhaps my brain is full of German and I’ve started to tune out. Perhaps it’s late and I’m tired…
And suddenly everyone stands up.
And I’m left sitting, looking from right to left. Wondering… what on earth is happening?
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When I was studying professional writing back in my younger days, I enrolled in an incredibly fun subject called ‘Children’s Writing’. Naturally, one of the major assignments was to produce a children’s book. As in… write one and put it in a book format, including illustrations… just like I used to do when I was 8 writing my Lucky Series.
Now, you think that writing a kid’s book is simple. And it kind of is… but it’s also kind of not. I remember spending a lot of time thinking… and not coming up with much.
And then one day I was on a bus trip from Melbourne to Sydney for band camp, and in the space of 10 minutes, I scrawled the story of Henry has Hiccups out on a piece of paper.
That became my assignment.
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When I was in Australia this year, I went to the swimming pool on a Saturday morning to do my laps. “There won’t be much space,” my friend informed me, at which I scoffed. Sure, for the hour or so after opening it can be pretty crowded, but then it’s pretty much clear sailing… or clear swimming as it were.
But she was right. The pool was PACKED. I struggled to park.
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an aussie in austria 