But it’s not cold in Australia

cold winter australia

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!

Longer Trips – Australia – and suddenly it feels like a holiday

sunset australia mornington beach

I’ve been back to Australia three times since moving to Austria, but it wasn’t until the most recent trip that it actually felt like a holiday.

The first time, triggered by an expiring plane ticket, was spent madly running around, organising documents, throwing stuff out and working out exactly what I would need in Austria for the next x number of months/years (under 30kg). The second time was our wedding, which, while it was perfect, involved quite a lot of time-consuming organisation which I could only do once I arrived in the country.

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Homeward bound – the push and pull of ‘the new’ over ‘the familiar’

Backpack flying home
Can’t wait to be carrying my trusty old backpack round again!

The lead-up to any holiday is exciting, the lead-up to a trip home when you live overseas is something else entirely.

On one hand, you’re super excited to be heading back into familiar territory, to have the chance to talk properly to people who have known you your whole life and understand your subtle nuances … and just the opportunity, to put it simply… to feel less isolated.

On the other hand, you’re just going home. You’ve been there before – many times. You grew up there. It can hardly be called a holiday, right?

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