Too hot to trot

I think there is something of the "sod's law" about this, but since I bought my coat, and wore it to the cinema, it has been far too warm to wear it again!

I know there has been a warm snap for lots of parts of Europe, but we have been really shocked by the temperatures. Last weekend, according to the little weather station outside the Sievering Apotheke at the end of the street, it was 17 degrees celcius! On Sunday we left the house decked out for what looked like a warm February day and had to turn back part way to the station as we were sweltering (actually, the main reason we returned to the flat was to get my camera which I had forgotten, but that doesn't sound quite so dramatic!).


The problem is, that we came equipped for winter, with warm clothes, long johns and hand-crocheted hats (thank you Rosie, we have worn them too, though, as yet, there is no photographic proof... maybe next week in Chicago) etc, so this early spring snap has found us entirely unprepared. At least us heading out without coats in February gave the naturally inquisitiveness Viennese something to stare at.

I am soooo lazy

I have been told off for not being blog-prolific in the last few days.

I must say dear readers, that I have no excuse (although I have been ridding the flat of dust at an alarming rate just recently since it became warm enough to open the windows), I am just wicked and bad and lazy; which I am sure you had probably worked out for yourselves already.

I am aware that some people have signed up for blog feeds so really feel obliged to post something pretty damned quick. As a short term win I thought I would post some pictures of, erm, things I have encountered along the way which I haven't been able to incorporate into any of my posts yet. There are more "proper" entries to come, I just haven't finished writing them yet... So in the meantime, here are some pictures :)

Some very noisy crows in a tree in the gardens of the Belvedere Palace
A big bunch of cayenne pepper chillies from the Naschmarkt
The TV tower and topiary
Give your seat up if you see any of these people!
A poppyseed paste ring (Mohn Kuchen)
The scaffolding surrounding the steeple of the Stephansdom and it's resident hawks nests to keep the pigeon population down
Part of my daily breakfast
For those days when the eggs demand make up
A bag of nationalist crisps (sadly no longer with us) from Slovakia
An amazing painting by Fernand Khnopff of an asymmetrically positioned white hydrangea and a woman in a hat

Time flies...

Blimey! We've been here a month!

A nice piece of pie

I donned my new lovely warm coat for the first time on Friday when we visited the Haydn Kino (Cinema) on Mariahilferstraße to see Sweeney Todd.

I have been fascinated and slightly thrilled by this tale since I was a little boy when my dad told me the story of the Demon Barber of Fleet Street in a very matter-of-fact kind of way, probably on the way to the chip shop. I had heard good things about the film and generally like Tim Burton's work but I was slightly unnerved when I found out it was a musical.

The Haydn Kino is an English speaking cinema which allocates seats by row and number in a very teutonic way. We asked for seats near the back and got exactly that.

My reservations about the "musical"ness of the film were borne out as there some awful scenes with awful songs giving insight, at length, into the awfully troubled young hearts of the obsessed sailor and the imprisoned daughter, but on the whole, these scenes were overshadowed by the sets and some right rollicking performances. For some reason I had expected Mr Todd to shave his victims before slitting their throats, but perhaps that would have just been a bit too fetishistic for a mainstream film.

On Saturday morning I decided it was time for a shave. Well, you don't want to tempt fate do you?

serendipity

So, at home we live at number 23, our flat here is number 23.

At home the bus which takes us down Sandyford Road into town is the 38. The tram which trundles down the Billroth Straße into the centre of Vienna is, guess what... the 38.

strange eh?

The last resort

I finally found a new coat!!!

After a fruitless wander the length and breadth of the Mariahilferstraße last Thursday I was prepared to throw in the towel, admit defeat, give up my quest and look scruffy until spring. We're hopefully off to Chicago next week though and the temperature at the moment has been somewhere in the region of -10 degrees celcius. So, rather than run the risk of hypothermia or a frostbitten underarm, I decided to explore the local fashion emporia of Oberdöbling (the area where we are living).

There is a gents outfitters literally across the road from us called Schlatte (which naturally we have, rather childishly nicknamed Slattern) that, so far, I had avoided, as venturing in might mean all manner of engagement in tongues foreign. I feared, through misunderstanding, linguistic interference and a tendency to agree with whatever's being said, that I would probably end up leaving with sock suspenders and collar tips rather than a coat.

There was a moment when I was wrapped in a long puffa jacket that made me look like a fat black caterpillar that I feared things may not turn out well, but Frau Schlatte was very efficient and my faltering German not quite as faltering as I expected it to be, and I was quickly kitted out in a rather fine and very warm wool/cashmere mix driving coat. Hooray!

I hope it's still cold in Chicago when we get there!

Achtung! avalanches!!

Saw some amazing photographs of avalanches in Die Zeit Magazin last week by Yann Gross.



Although I wanted snow, I'm relieved we didn't get thing much! (original photos (c) Yann Gross)

A week is a long time...

It seems amazing that this week has gone so fast. Last Thursday (Feb 14th) we met up with a friend who was leading a group of modern history students and other interested academics on a mini trip to Vienna. We met up with them to eat at the Waldviertlerhof (which I mentioned earlier, and the food was excellent by the way) shortly after they arrived and tagged along at various points throughout their trip.

The weather turned on Friday and the temperature dropped by several degrees. We had a smattering of snow, but the worse thing was the wind. It certainly wasn't the kind of day I would have chosen to stand about in the town Centre.

Unfortunately, we were booked onto the Third Man tour, so this was exactly what we had to do! I Had known about this particular tour for a long time and it had almost worked its way into my folk memory. I was sure that a friend of a friend had been on it and had been taken down into the storm drains that run under Vienna to see the setting of the final scenes where Orson Welles tries to escape the clutches of the authorities. He didn't escape (sorry for the spoiler if you haven't seen it), and we didn't get to see the storm drains as the scene was apparently shot in the Shepperton Studios in London. We left early, feeling a little disappointed and later found out that the tour didn't even take in the Riesenrad (the big wheel) on the Prater which seemed a little odd as it is the most recognisable landmark in the whole film. Hey ho. Photo below is the doorway of Harry Lime's kitty (unacknowledged) accompanied first appearance in the film.

A tip! If you are ever really cold and happen to pass a street vendor selling roasted chestnuts, buy some, give some to your friends, put them in your gloves to warm your hands then eat them. It works a treat. Well done Jill for this inspired bit of improvisation!

Later that evening, we visited the Zwölf Apostelkeller in the centre of town to eat drink and make merry, helped along by a particularly boisterous performance from the resident violinist and accordianist who, when they found out the group was from Wales gave a rousing rendition of Tom Jones' "Why, why, why, Delilah?". All very jolly though secretly I was hoping for "Big Spender"!
Saturday was more sedate (though still freezing cold) as we ambled up and down the Naschmarkt and wandered through the accompanying Saturday Flohmarkt (Flea Market) eyeing the acres of assembled bric a brac, antiques, books, old cutlery, postcards, records and CDs, statues, furniture and general tat (you get the picture) and eventually ended up, via the mulled wine stall, at the Kunsthistorisches Museum to see the newly opened Arcimboldo exhibition.

You probably do know who he is even if you think you don't. He's the man who made portraits out of vegetables, fruit and flowers. They were actually portraits of the court of Rudolf the second (16th century) and very interesting too.

We saw the lovely snowy Breughels too.

Sunday found us at the top the Kahlenberg again, surveying the land with the whole group from on high and actually managing to spot the Riesenrad this time. We descended to the village at the bottom (Kahlenbergerdorf) down a stepped path through a vineyard which was cordoned off due to glaciated steps near the bottom. Naturally we only realised this when we were at the ice, at the bottom of the steps; we suffered no casualties, though it was a tad hairy descending at times.
When at the bottom we decamped to a pre-booked local Heuriger called Steinschaden for a delicious feast of local specialities (even featuring vegetarian options!) and lots and lots of wine. Note to self, I really must find out what Schwarz Wurzel are, because the Schwarz Wurzel salad was delicious. It tasted quite like asparagus but without the side effects. I'd quite like to try to grow some when I get home.

I had a brilliant time last weekend and met some really lovely people. Thank you :)

Yes

Lots of people have asked, and it occurred to me the other day that I haven't actually mentioned it yet.

I'm having a really good time!

Naturally I am missing people and some (though not many) of my things from home. Though the internet, email, mobile and skype phones (from firebox.com) have made being far away not feel any further away than I already was.

You have mail

There's nothing quite like getting real post, and even more so when you're away from home. So imagine my delight at getting two lots! Thank you Alan and thank you Joan.

A tune too far #11

Oh dear, and you had been doing so well until this little gem:

Matthew Wilder ~ Break my stride

Cover featuring a bit of seductive '80s shop mannequin based surrealism, cloaked the monster within. I always thought he deserved to have bones broken for inflicting this on the world.

Who bought it? come on... own up!

Songs that saved your life #9

What's this? Is it Roxy Music? Mott the Hoople? Bryan Ferry on his own?

Nah, it's Sailor ~ A Glass of Champagne

My carrots are called Sweet Susi!

There is something of a thrill in foreign supermarkets when you happen upon everyday items that have amusing names! I know several people called Suzy, Susi, Sue, Susan, Suzanne, Su and at least one of them is reading this, whether this is wise way to spend her time online, or foolhardy, I can't decide, but it's most definitely sweet.
I may post some funny sounding/looking sausage pictures at some point, but until then, you will have to be content with root vegetables...

To everyone their own Gackerl Sakerl

There is a move from a government body in Vienna to make it illegal to allow your dog to foul the pavement and not clear it up. Speaking as someone who, within hours of arriving, had inadvertently stood in a small "deposit", I entirely agree that this is a reasonable request/demand.

The Austrians are a nation of dog lovers and there are apparently enough dogs in Vienna alone to produce 15 tons of, erm, droppings (as they are referred to here) every single month. Judging by the size of some of them though (the dogs, not the owners), this amount of matter could easily be achieved by a relatively small number of the more ginormous sized Hunds after an over indulgent dinner.

So far, this "clean as we go" initiative (sorry Gracie) doesn't yet have any great presence on the streets. The only presence I have seen on my travels (and photographed) so far is this charming little fella encouraging you take a "Sackerl" (small bag) for your dog's "Gackerl" (I'm not entirely sure of an exact translation for this, but I'm sure you get the idea and if you're a bit lost, the pictograms at the bottom should help you work it out). I think it's a shame that Mr Dog doesn't actually have any "Sackerl" attached to him to distribute as I expect he is supposed to have, I fear this may be wanton sabotage.

Being such a posh place, the populace of Vienna (like Nice in France) don't seem to think that such unpleasant laws/directives/initiatives apply to them. Therefore, if you do come to visit us, or this fair city, I'd encourage you to watch your step.

We need to contain this mess...

With a little judicious recycling we are now alost fully equipped with storage containers for, well, things that need containing!

We actually bought the can for the coffee when we first arrived, it was something of a priority.

Plastic pots we bought olives and humous in from the Naschmarkt are enjoying a dual existence as herb pots. The dried herbs, we bought at the same time in crammed plastic bags, were crammed so full that once they were opened they proved more less impossible to reseal or stand up, so that their contents didn't spill across the *shelves/work surfaces/cupboards (*delete as appropirate). The placcy pots aren't fantastically serviceable, but until we have emptied more pesto jars (one so far), they'll have to do, and at least we're not having to wipe everything down every time a cupboard is opened too quickly!

My favourite re-purposing so far has been the little wooden crate that the (rather delicious, Hungarian) mushrooms arrived in from the local Inter Spar that now houses our eggs on the work surface for all to see.

I wonder sometimes whether I oughtn't to credit Biddy Baxter for our resourcefulness. Although I haven't solved the "spewing muesli bag" problem yet so perhaps I'm not worthy of a Blue Peter badge anyway.

What's it called?

The bulb popped in the lamp today when I turned it on as dusk drew in so I had to scuttle across the road to the local Billa supermarket to get a replacement bulb before they closed, or spend the whole night in gloom and flicker form the TV and the laptops.

I took the blown bulb with me to ensure I was bought the right replacement but also as I realised that I hadn't the foggiest idea what the german was for light bulb, if I had to ask one of the shop assistants for one. In the worse-case scenario I figured I could at least prod it and say "I would like one of these please my good man" point point.

As things turned out, I found them on the shelves quite easily but decided to seize the day at the till by asking the cashier what they were called. By this point, the only possibility that had found its way into my head was Lichtkugel (der, die oder das Lichtkugel?!), light ball. This wasn't the case however.

It was a lovely word that I repeated several times to the slightly bemused cashier and I was sure it was stapled somewhere securely to the inside of my skull, but as soon as I left the shop, it had escaped from inside my head!

Now I know it wasn't Lichtbirne (light pear) as has already been suggested to me. So any suggestions (within the bounds of decency of course) would be very welcome...

There's a hole in my jacket, dear Liesel, dear Liesel!

I realised last week with a not significant amount of shock and horror that I had a big hole under the right arm of my coat. This may explain why I have been getting odd looks on the bus/underground recently. When I've been standing up holding on to the ceiling straps I've obviously been flashing my wooly pully to all and sundry!

I haven't had the chance to look around for a replacement yet apart from a lack-lustre wander around Zara on the Kärntnerstraße on Saturday evening, where everything looked either "too young", "too shiny" (and not in a good way) or just odd. I quite like Tracht coats, they are very smart (as well as being ridiculously expensive) but anywhere outside of Austria would also look odd in their own way (though in a smart, expensive kind of way) too.

I am planning a trip to Peek & Cloppenberg on the Mariahilferstraße on Thursday to see if I can fulfill this new (and rather pressing need should the weather stay this cold for much longer) need. Brrrrr!

Fear of flooding

I've been a bit busy this weekend and rather than have separate entries for the good and the bad aural assaults of the ambient media, I felt i needed to clear a bit of a backlog, and with no justification as to my taste either, so there!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tune too far #6
Toto ~ Africa

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tune too far #7
Frankie goes to Hollywood ~ The Power of Love

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tune too far #8
Paul McCartney & Michael Jackson ~ Say Say Say

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tune too far #9
Opus ~ Live is life

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tune too far #10
Survivor ~ Burning Heart

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

song that saved your life #5
Lou Reed ~ Take a Walk on the Wild Side

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

song that saved your life #6
The Maisonettes ~ Heartache Avenue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

song that saved your life #7
Cyndi Lauper ~ Time after Time

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

song that saved your life #8
Anita Ward ~ Ring My Bell (for Liz)

let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Now while I don't expect to be careering down the Kahlenberg on a Toboggan any time soon ("not with my legs"), I did feel it worth mentioning that we've had a sprinkling of snow this morning...

You could tell it was in the air yesterday (latches into weatherman/spooky fortune teller mode), but today, it's fallen and it makes my jaded heart thrill! I just want more of it now...

I haven't got a stitch to wear

We're going to the Waldviertlerhof for dinner tonight with friends. There are fish specials in January and February and it looks like it will prove to be a very enjoyable evening. I fear however that whatever I wear, I be upstaged by the waiting staff.

I think I'll wear black!

High on a hill with a lonely erm... chicken

There was something about this picture on the eggbox I bought the other day that reminded me of the seminal scene where the innocent young Maria belts forth.. . "the hillllls are aliiiiiiive... with the souuuund of muuusiiiiiic!" before delving into the sordid underbelly of the local aristocracy.

I hope these chickens enjoy as unfettered a hilltop life as the carefree Maria did.

Memory card is full!

There is something quite existential and portentous about this phrase that often makes me fear it's not only talking about my camera!

Needless to say, at the end of the day and a couple of glasses of wine, my memory card is now (almost) empty and ready to be filled up again tomorrow with all manner of nonsense, and a few pearls.

Haven't you got work to do?

Wow! We've been here for 2 weeks!

We've settled into some semblance of routine now and it's amazing how quickly you become accustomed to change. Initially it felt a bit like we were on holiday (but with laptops), exploring pastures new(ish) and exotic(ish) and while some things still maintain their novelty, and probably shall forever (I may speak of them at a later date when more jaded, world-weary and in the mood to mock... but not yet), once the dust (yes, they have dust in Austria too, and it's just like at home!) starts to gather in the corners of the room, you reailise that you have to tackle the same mundane tasks as at home (unless of course you have a cleaner in either location to do them for you).

I complied a list of inconsequential little observations that I may add to from time to time.

You know you're no longer on holiday when:

• you can finally work the cooker hob
  
• you have to get the hoover out
• you have to do the washing
• the milk goes sour
• the woman in the bakery recognises you
• you know the time the bus/train/tram is due to arrive before you leave the house
• you know which of the three local supermarkets sells the best tomatoes
• you realise that E1.50 for a single leek is quite expensive
  
• you have to buy bathroom cleaner

***kin' dogs!

There are dogs everywhere! Big dogs, small dogs, friendly dogs, snappy dogs, rat-sized dogs, donkey-sized dogs, yappy dogs, howling dogs, nervous dogs and stupid dogs.

They are on buses, on trains, on the underground, on the street, in restaurants, in cafes, in smart suits, in handbags, in trolleys, on laps, on seats, but mostly, on my nerves!

There are those of you who may know that I have asthma, and that my biggest allergy is, and always has been, dog. I don't make this up, as some people believe, I am allergic to dog!

I don't hold it against "them" (dogs per se (and apologies in advance to Tosca, Basil, Molly and Brin for any offense I may have already caused)) I hasten to add, and in social gatherings I often find it quite endearing (while simultaneously immensely irritating) to be singled out by the dog as the only person present who doesn't love them, but generally I do try to avoid them.

At home this allergy is fairly manageable. With judicious use of anti-histamines I can quite happily go to friends houses where there are dogs present and enjoy a fairly "normal" time, ensuring my inhaler is close to hand, that i don't come into contact with soft furnishings or upholstery, or of course, dog.

Here though, any surface I might come into contact with may be/is more than likely to be contaminated with purest essence of dog.

Thank goodness for ever present fast working pills!

Ok, I'm in a bit of a quandary...

Just recently I've been flirting with the idea (and the actuality if you can call it that!) of facial hair.

Not in an enormous "beardy" beard kind of way, as the growth of hair on my face is a bit patchy in places and I don't think a full grizzly would actually be possible. I have recently been growing it a little longer than stubble though, a habit which began when I started working from home last year.

Now while I think whiskers make me look slightly less po-faced than usual (a look I have somehow mastered without any conscious effort on my part and may be the reason it sometimes takes us so long to get served in cafés sometimes), Tim thinks I look like a fully paid up member of a tambourine wielding German Christian troupe. Thankfully, for both of us I don't know the lyrics to "Jesus Wants me for a Sunbeam" nor do I feel, this is quite the weather for sporting sandals, with, or even without socks.

Today my face is bald.

That's grotesque

Spent most of the day Saturday afternoon in the Museum of Applied Arts (MAK - Museum für Angewandte Kunst) on the Ringstraße. I suppose an equivalent in the UK would be the V&A in London but on a smaller scale. We wandered through rooms of baroque pomp and mirrors, exquisite lace and glass from the 16th century and rooms of chairs from from one of the first ever mail order catalogues in Europe (date), and past full size sketches by Klimt of the famous wall frieze in the Palais Stoclet in Belgium.

The main reason for my wanting to go to the MAK, was an exhibition of ornamental prints I had noticed in one of the listings sites. These prints were taken from bookplates, illustrations, pattern books, architectural drawings and other ornate designs (for jugs etc) and are all grotesque. By that I don't mean they are horrible. "Grotesque" refers to a style of decoration that is wild and fanciful and features fantastical mythological creatures with swirls and arabesques. It originally became fashionable following the discovery of Emperor Nero's villa (Domus Aurea) in Rome in the early 1500's. The villa was covered in this kind of fanciful decoration.

This might sound really dull, but this kind of stuff has fascinated me since I was a little boy, though I can't remember where I would have first seen it, maybe in the Manchester Museum? I don't know.

This was a lovely exhibition and one where. Some of the exhibits were so detailed and so small (Christmas postage stamp size) that there were powerful magnifying glasses available so you could see them properly without going crosseyed. Thank you Mr/Ms MAK for that.

We retired across the road to the Café Pruckerl and although the air inside was thick with smoke and it took an age to get served, we persevered and I eventually had a fantastic potato goulash, topped with a Debreziner (a spicy hot-dog sausage from Debrecen in Hungary).

What more could a hungry boy wish for?

A tune too far #5

I thought I was hardening myself to the onslaught of Radio Wien, but then they come along with this gem:

PhD ~ I Won't Let You Down

All under control...

We didn't miss Control, although it was touch and go as the Stadtbahn train was ten minutes late leaving Oberdöbling. We found the Schikaneder cinema on the Margaretenstraße quite quickly (thankfully), and in time too, though we needn't have worried as the usher arrived late too to allow us into the cinema.

The cinema was a long room painted black with a white rectangle painted on the wall for the film to be projected on. The seating was a mixture of sofas and deckchairs. It wasn't the best sound insulated place. You could hear traffic outside and people walking by talking on their mobiles (Händy) but in the great scheme of things, what does that matter? It reminded me of the art cinema I used to work at in Oxford whilst a student, the self-deprecatingly (though ultimately truthfully) named Penultimate Picture Palace.

Shikaneder's eccentric furnishings were much more comfortable though than the PPP ever offered, and you could take drinks in from the bar too! I really liked the cinema and hope we go again.

Control was a fantastic film. I really enjoyed it, even the boring bits! It was very beautifully filmed and thankfully, not dubbed! And even though I knew the ending (he dies, by the way), it still was very, very moving, and the soundtrack, quite spectacular. Thank you Mr Corbijn, Mr Curtis (Riley) et al.

We retired afterwards for a beer (or two) to the Café Savoy on the Linke Wienzeile which boasts some of the largest mirrors in Europe (apparently); which makes it a really good place to, erm... look at the other patrons.