I feel like it’s been a long road back to normal for me. It was only recently that I went to the supermarket without a mask. Most people waved goodbye to Covid ages ago, but having a young baby (and also never having had Covid) meant staying vigilant. It was my choice, of course. But having a child just as the rest of the world was emerging from Covid meant essentially extending the lockdown.
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We are currently in the midst of a heatwave here in Austria. And yes I know, I do tease the Austrian folk about how much they complain the second the temperature goes over 25 degrees, but I have to say, this heatwave is a good one. It’s been consistently over 30 for more than a week now. And while that may be fairly ‘normal’ in Oz, it only tends to happen once a year here (if we’re lucky) – and it’s only June!
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In my town the opening of the local outdoor swimming pool was delayed by two weeks due to COVID-19. You might already know I’m a keen swimmer. You might also already know that I’m no stranger to overdoing it. Living in a land with a swimming pool that’s only open for 3.5 months per year just exacerbates my desire to make the most of the season and swim as much as possible. So what happens when Coronavirus wipes two weeks off that measly 3.5 months… what do I do, you ask?
I flat out panic.
The last two weeks have been crazy!
Here in Austria we’re slowly easing out of restrictions, and with that life returns to a semblance of normal.
Our first Hofer shop after two months took up the entire belt (not previously achieved). Even though we were getting irregular grocery deliveries during lockdown, we had purchased mainly necessities, so it was necessary to stock up.
Leading on from last week’s blog post on how I love sport and being active, comes the revelation that as I was growing up, I wasn’t sporty. Wait… let me rephrase that… it’s actually more that I never thought of myself as sporty. Sure, I’d always loved swimming, and I took dance lessons from the age of 5, and at 12 my family joined a sailing club…
Reading that back… I’m not sure what I was thinking.
None of which, by the way, I saw on my recent trip to Australia.
I hadn’t meant to go back to Oz at the end of the year, but with hubby’s new job, I suddenly found myself a-flush with more leave than him, and we decided it was a good chance for me to take the trip on my own.
So off I tripped… for a whole month… just cause I could.
Growing up in Melbourne I’ve always been close to the beach. Our family holidays were often coastal and featured a lot of swimming both in surf and the calmer waters of the bay. From about the age of 10 my parents joined us up to a sailing club in Safety Beach, and from then on, until I decided I was too old to spend Sunday’s with my parents, we were there every week from November to April, rain hail or shine.
I’m a swimmer… always have been. Look, I’m no Olympian but even by Australian standards I’m better than the average bear. It’s the ultimate sport because for me it’s very natural, and the fresh, tranquil feeling I get when I’m stroking through water with only bubbles in my ears is basically my idea of heaven.
In Australia, I’m not overly remarkable. I’m just one of many people who choose to wake up early and hit the pool for a refreshing pre-work swim. I can hold my own – I usually get away with swimming in the fast lane (unless there’s a pre-teen Ian Thorpe smashing out butterfly) and I’ve competed in numerous open water swims (though I’m definitely mid-pack in that situation).
But in Austria… in Austria I feel like a swimming legend.
an aussie in austria 