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.
Continue readingOh… wait.
No, I think I got that wrong. Cause it’s Australia where we always worry about water… and hot weather… and bushfire potential.
But I have seen multiple warnings recently from communities in Austria, urging people to use less water because they are running out. Our local fire brigade issued an alert on smoking and fires in forested areas, again due to the drought and fire potential.
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What I might at home refer to as a ‘standard white bread roll’ is called a Semmel in Austria. There are different types/shapes depending on what state you live in. In our state, a Semmel is a round, thin roll, crunchy on the outside and soft in the middle. It’s what you put ham and cheese or marmalade on for breakfast, it’s what the Leberkäse sits between in a Leberkäse Semmel, and it’s what you get to eat alongside your Wurst. It’s really standard, everyday fare – much like the humble white bread roll.
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What is it, you ask? It’s a daycare approval form. But not any kind of approval form that you’d see in Australia.
It’s asking for approval from us, as parents, that in the event of a nuclear accident (yes, like Chernobyl), daycare is allowed to administer iodine tablets, which apparently prevent radioactive iodine from being absorbed by the thyroid gland which leads to thyroid cancer.
So… sure! Yes please, I will sign said form. Because as much as it seems ridiculous to me coming from Australia, I guess better safe than sorry! And let’s hope we never have to worry about it.
Since I’ve been driving every week to swim in Slovenia (which is another key way I know I’m in Austria and not Australia), I’ve been regularly going back and forth across the border. And the slogan of the shop next to the border caught my eye. Not just any old Bordershop… but Europe’s NUMBER 1!
So what did I do? I stopped and went in. And I took a photo… which the random people in the car park thought I was mad for doing but I did it anyway. I wanted to see what was inside. And what did I find? Well… embarrassingly, exactly what I should have assumed. It’s simply a smaller duty-free section of the airport… just not in the airport.
Turns out it’s not trying to claim to be the single number one shop in Europe, but is simply using the slogan of the chain of bordershops. Which are, apparently, the number one in Europe. So, I guess the marketing got me on this one. But hey, all I can say is, I’ve been there… have you?
That’s right. This delicious alcoholic drink is fine to drink as long as you’re over 16. Because in Austria, the laws on alcohol consumption are different. From the age of 16, you are allowed to purchase and drink certain types of alcoholic beverages. Namely, beer, cider and wine. Any hard liquor or schnapps is off limits until you’re 18 though.
Yes, alcohol is a drug and consumption for teenagers should be limited. Maybe it’s an irresponsible law. Or maybe it just legalises what goes on anyway, since I think you’d be hard pressed in any country to find a teen who hasn’t drunk alcohol before they’ve hit the legal limit!
In any case, this is Austria!
The day after Faschingsdienstag, or Shrove Tuesday is Ash Wednesday. When I first arrived in Austria and this day came up I thought to myself… woah… that’s weird… in Australia we also have an Ash Wednesday. Our Ash Wednesday, however, memorialises one of Australia’s most destructive bush fires which occurred on 16 February 1983. Or at least that’s what I thought.
Turns out that I’m actually just an idiot.
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An embarrassingly short time back I had to post a letter. Easy, I thought. I’ll find a mailbox and put it in. It was one of those prepaid deals so I didn’t have to go into the post office to buy a stamp as I usually do.
So one day when I was in the city I headed to the post office because… well there must be a mailbox there. Step one, locating said mailbox, was quite simple – it was in plain sight out the front. Step two, posting the letter… was not so simple. I faffed around for what felt like an eternity, prodding and poking and pulling at the yellow box, until… I simply fled, tears of shame burning my eyes.
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Summer is for mowing. Especially in Austria where you generally have to mow every week to keep things under control. Like anywhere, people are apt to start mowing early, especially when it’s hot. But come 12 noon, and what you’ll hear in Austria is… nothing. That’s because it’s considered impolite to mow your lawn between 12 and 2… disturbing the peace and quiet of lunch time. In the same way that Sunday is a day of rest, and the shops are closed, there are still lots of shops that close here between 12 and 2 during the week. Oh, and you better not even think about getting your mower out on a Sunday… that’s definitely forbidden!
But hey, it’s nice to know, that for your Sunday BBQ, your serenity won’t be disturbed. So I’m all for it!
I’m not saying I didn’t panic and squeal when I first saw it. For all my bravado of I’m Australian and I’m not scared of spiders or sharks or snakes, as I rolled back the fabric laid over my garden to reveal a long, scaly skin, I let out plenty of squeals. Then I immediately burst out laughing… before abruptly stopping and peering closer to make sure it was just that – a skin.
an aussie in austria 