
When “Baden gehen” “baden geht”
As lockdown eases Curmudgeon wonders what kind of a summer is ahead. Culture and the arts appear to have a difficult one ahead, as does tourism. Continue reading When “Baden gehen” “baden geht”
As lockdown eases Curmudgeon wonders what kind of a summer is ahead. Culture and the arts appear to have a difficult one ahead, as does tourism. Continue reading When “Baden gehen” “baden geht”
The last few weeks of 2018 have not been plain sailing. There have been reheated family feuds, ongoing worries about the welfare of my nephew on the high seas, the loss of a dear friend, and personal anxiety over B****t. The end of year quiz was a remarkably subdued affair as a result. Continue reading Curmudgeon emerges from the Funk(stille)
Death is a favourite topic among the Viennese. 1st November is renowned for being a day of mourning, tending of graves and family contemplation. Continue reading Four Cemeteries and a Martinigansl
As I remarked yesterday on a tweet after putting my visitors onto the train bound for the airport, it is always good to catch up with old friends. The best thing about such old friendships, where the passing of time does little to dim the memory, tarnish the friendship, or even better allows the friendship to be renewed as though no time had passed is that they also serve as a reminder to think about things have changed.
Continue reading “Tourism with a hermit of the expat scene.”
Some friends had invited us over for lunch across town to be held this Sunday passed, and they said we’d be eight for lunch at theirs. Ever the precise Viennese, they had invited us well in advance – which is in distinct contrast to my attempts to invite friends over at about maximum 48 hours notice. Such an invitation comes with more gravitas. My impromptu … Continue reading Dressing up for lunch