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!

Winter is even more of a bastard with a toddler

winter austria

Those who know me will know that I dislike winter. Dislike is probably a little mild, actually. Hate, would be a better word. Abhor, perhaps. Loath. Detest. Hey… sure, a fine winter’s day with snow on the ground when you’re dressed properly… I can enjoy that. But the rest of it. Hate it. Abhor it. Loath it. Detest it. But it’s worse now. Cause not only do I have to try and keep myself warm, I have to keep a child warm! Read on for my rant!

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Getting back to normal

cows spring

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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Winter woes

winter walking

Look, winter isn’t all bad, but I’m a summer girl at heart. And growing up in Australia, I got used to the hot summers. Sure, Melbourne winters do get cold, especially on a freezing day, with Arctic winds spiralling in, but it’s short-lived, even if it doesn’t feel like it at the time. So the move to Austrian winter was a shock, and though I’ve somewhat gotten used to it, I’m not going to grow to like it.

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The downsides of snow

Snow walks

Where I live in Austria it snows in winter. Not just up in the distant mountains, but down on the ground, out in the streets, and along the Autobahn. The first few times it snowed I was in a winter wonderland of magical happiness. I skipped around the streets in my new boots, marvelled at the silence the blanket of snow created and drank hot tea while staring out onto pretty white fields.

And then it snowed again… and again. And then it melted… well, half melted. And that’s when I found out that sometimes snow is a big pain in the ass.

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Christmas in Lockdown – just lazy lazy lazy

Christmas Day in lockdown

I returned to work this week after more than three weeks off. I don’t think I’ve had this much time off with no ‘real goal’ in mind ever – except perhaps when I was unemployed. In the midst of lockdown (only essential shops open, restaurants takeaway only, restrictions on visiting people), there was nowhere to travel, no one to catch up with and being winter, very little to do.

I thought it would drag. But all of a sudden, it was over and I was back to work.

They allowed us out of lockdown for December 24 and 25 so Christmas could be celebrated in a semi-normal way. There were limitations on how many people you could see at one time, but since my family here is on the small side anyway, we spent Christmas pretty much in the same was as always: Covid test in the morning, gathering in the early afternoon, singing Silent Night, opening presents and eating together. Oh… wait… the Covid test, that was something new for this year.

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Four seasons, four years, four photos – fawesome!

This is a photography project, four years in the making. Now, I’m no photographer, I have no patience – I stand and I shoot. With this project I exhibited persistence rather than skill. I went back to the same places, in the middle of each season, to see what the differences between the four seasons really were. The results, for all my amateur skills, are pretty cool. Have a look – Wolfsberg – four seasons – enjoy!

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