You call this snow?!

It’s that time of year again when the UK suffers its annual dusting of snow and everything comes to a grinding halt.  When this yearly occurrence happens, my thoughts always turn to the year I spent living in Vienna – an academic year, to be precise, the year of 2004 – 2005, which happened to be one of the worst winters on Austrian record.  Snow covered every bough and rooftop as far as the eye could see, and the city was bathed in a brilliant white.  Now that was really what you call snow!

Schönbrunn, bathed in snow.  This was actually taken during its 

Easter Market (yes Easter Market!)!

Snow won’t stop us! 
Coming from the scarcely-touched-by-snow UK, I’d never seen snow like it, and it now forms one of the overriding memories of my year abroad.  But it isn’t necessarily a negative memory.  The snow started on the 20^th November 2004.  I was woefully underdressed for the occasion in a skirt, tights and ballet pumps; I soon learnt that for the next 5 months, the only form of footwear I would be wearing would be my snow boots.  It didn’t stop snowing until the end of March – I can remember going to the Easter Markets and being surrounded by beautiful coloured eggs, wicker baskets and clumps of snow.  What was so different to the UK, however, was the fact that the snow was no big deal: trains still ran on time, schools and businesses were still open, and my commute was barely affected, even if I did have to go and borrow an umbrella from the Hotel Schrannenhof in the market place of Klosterneuburg one morning, en route to work.

The Schönbrunn Easter Market sign, with snow underfoot!

The no. 2 tram - still running despite the snow!

Stunning snowy city 
And so as the snow descended on the city, and being woken up by the snow plough became a regular occurrence (so much so that I became convinced that the “Secret Sound” competition on the local radio station was someone shovelling snow – it turns out that the sound of someone moving a computer mouse over a mouse mat is surprisingly similar), a beauty took over what was already a stunning place to live.  Vivid memories of cars piled high with snow, sledging at a friend’s house in Klosterneuburg, shopping in festively white Christmas markets and a beautifully snowy trip to Salzburg are all highlights of my year abroad, and the beautiful scene through a tram window of tree boughs heavy with snow in Stadtpark will stay with me forever.  Snow might not excite me anymore, but it does fill me with a sense of wonder, and of memories of a beautiful white city which doesn’t stand still for snow.

Cars covered with snow in Klosterneuburg

Sledging in Klosterneuburg

 

A snow covered Klosterneuburg

 

 

The only way is Manchester: An Essex Girl Up North

I’m ashamed to admit that as of just over a month ago, I’d never been to Manchester.  All of these exotic climes I’d visited, and yet I’d not been to one of the UK’s most important cities – a city, I was to discover, which deserved my full attention: from the Lowry to the National Football Museum, and great shopping and restaurants thrown in too, it offers a whole array of delights for the tourist.  

When I think about the fact that my friend Tom has been living in Manchester for the past 6 years and my hubby had been to visit him 3 times prior to my visit, it’s really difficult to understand why I’d not been; every time Tom came back to Essex, he’d tell me about this new bar he’d been to, or this great shop he’d found, or even just about an excellent meal he’d had on the curry mile – and yet I’d still not been to visit.  So it was decided that 2012 would be the year that Essex-girl-and-hubby would be let loose in Manchester: and what a gem of a city we discovered! 

Season’s greetings!

Once it was decided that we were going, we timed our visit to coincide with the Manchester Christmas Markets; having once lived in Vienna, I am a sucker for a Christmas Market.  This does also mean that I have high expectations of what a Christmas Market should be like: Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park is not for me, it’s not authentic enough.  Manchester, however, did not disappoint: street after street of tempting stalls selling a beautiful variety of food and gifts from Germany, France and Holland.  It was all so authentic!  And what’s more, I even managed to find a gluten free Lancashire sausage and bun – what more could this Essex girl want from a Christmas Market?!  The Glühwein was hot and delicious, and, most importantly for me, served in an authenticity-inducing mug rather than a polystyrene cup – fuelled up on warm alcohol and tasty treats from the market, even the rain couldn’t dampen our spirits as the lights twinkled away amongst the joviality surrounding the town hall.

 

Above: Tom and I enjoying a Gluehwein in the Market, and below, the mugs!

From Christmas Markets to Culture

But it wasn’t just the Christmas Markets we’d gone for: I also had my heart set on taking in The Lowry.  I wasn’t disappointed – what a wonderful space to display such fantastic works of art!  As well as the striking Lowrys – which aren’t to everyone’s taste, but certainly suited mine – we were lucky enough to visit during a Peter Blake exhibition.  Colour and music abound, and the added touch of the 50’s jukebox and interactive social media board blended musicality and modernity seamlessly.  

As Tom lives in the Salford Quays, we took the opportunity to walk up to the recently constructed Media City UK, the new home of the BBC, too, and then visited the Imperial War Museum North: an incredibly interesting museum, housed in an equally interesting Daniel Libeskind designed building.  I was so impressed by all of the regeneration which has taken place in the Quays - the architecture is truly stunning.

Some of the stunning architecture in the Salford Quays 

 

We headed back into town that night, as that first sausage in the Christmas Market had set a precedent.  Tom remembered a restaurant he’d been to where he thought he remembered them serving gluten free pizzas – the wonderful ‘Dough’ in the Northern Quarter.  He had remembered correctly – the only thing on the menu which I couldn’t eat was the Caesar salad!  It was over that gluten free pizza that talked turned to Mancunian stereotypes.  Liam and Noel Gallagher have got a lot to answer for.  Tom advised that the city is actually an incredibly large melting pot of people and cultures - rather than one stereotype - all of which seem to get along.  This was later proved by our visit to the geek-chic TV21 bar – complete with scary alien at the entrance, where else in Britain would you find a sci-fi bar alongside quirky restaurants?!

Pizza!

Shopping, shopping, shopping!

After all that culture, it was time for some shopping on our final day (well, you can take the girl out of Essex, but you can’t take the Essex out of the girl!).  However, this wasn’t really shopping as I knew it; none of the generic shops of our Southern Lakesides or Westfields: this was shopping in the eccentric Northern Quarter.  What a treasure trove!  Tom took us to the likes of Afflecks Palace and the Oxfam Originals shop for a mooch around.  What surprised me was how friendly everyone was; of course, they were probably trying to make a sale, but I couldn’t put my finger on what was different about the atmosphere in Manchester as opposed to London.  

After the shopping, there was just time to visit the National Football Museum (well, the husband’s got to have some fun too!), which even I as a very-much-non-football-fan found interesting, with its many interactive exhibits, before a final visit to the Christmas Market.  “Ooh look,” Tom said, “They’ve got a pop-up Afflecks Palace in the Town Hall!”.  And so in we popped for more mooching around, amidst independent traders selling bright carnival masks and Christmas jumpers.  It was as we were leaving that I turned to Tom and said, “I like it here, it’s friendly and there seems to be always something going on.  It’s not as aloof as London.”.   “That’s exactly it!”  Tom replied, “That’s exactly how to sum up Manchester: More friendly, and less aloof than London.”  And that I think says it all: Manchester really is beautiful.  Oh and it’s more friendly and less aloof than London to boot!

Oh Vienna!: Reverse homesickness from the first district and beyond.

Vienna: my second home.  The reverse homesickness hit the minute I saw the ‘Niederösterreich’ sign.  Well, to be truthful it had hit almost a year before, when I was assigned the Vienna tours to work on in the office, but not long after crossing the Slovakian-Austrian border, on seeing that sign, the excitement kicked in big time, and a feeling of almost homecoming settled over me.  The über-efficient public transport system, the Aida cafes on every corner, the friendly locals: everything reminded me with more than a touch of nostalgia of my language degree year abroad spent in the Austrian capital.   More on all of this later; and yes, an Austrian or German blog is the only place where the use of the word ‘über’ in English is acceptable!  I was home, if only for a few days.

Experiencing the new....

I always think I know Vienna really well - and I suppose, in most ways, I do.  It therefore surprises me, although perhaps it shouldn’t, that there is always something new to see, or something I haven’t seen previously, when going back to visit.  The spectacular ‘Le Loft’ cocktail bar and restaurant at the top of the Sofitel Stephansplatz was one such place on this occasion – offering wonderful views across the whole of the city centre, it was the perfect place to meet with friends I hadn’t seen since my last visit to the city almost 5 years prior.  Another visit I’d never made before was to the interior of the Upper Belvedere Palace, which is currently exhibiting ‘150 years of Gustav Klimt’, a collection of dazzling works by one of Vienna’s most famous artists, and I was also lucky enough to take in a fantastic Mozart and Strauss concert and enjoy a glass of champagne at the beautiful Kursalon concert house in the Stadtpark.  

The Upper Belvedere Palace

But perhaps the most surprising excursion of the three days spent in Vienna on this occasion was the day spent on the Danube.  With a first stop at Melk Abbey, whose beautiful Baroque Church is the highlight of the Benedictine Abbey tour, the day got off to a good start.  We then continued by car along the winding course of the River Danube, amongst the beautiful scenery of the lower Austrian wine growing region, the Wachau Valley (if you ever get a chance to try out the lovely Grüner Veltliner wine, please do, as it is exceptionally drinkable).  We made our way towards Krems, one of the biggest towns in Lower Austria, where we were going to stop for lunch (and where we also managed to get embroiled in the crowds visiting a market staged to celebrate Leopoldi-Tag – St. Leopold’s day, the patron saint of Lower Austria), but firstly, en route, we stopped at a little gem of a town: Dürnstein.  I was bowled over by how beautiful it was; perched high on a cliff face above the river bank is Dürnstein Abbey, painted a brilliant shade of blue to match, fortunately, the sky on the day of our visit.  The jewel coloured spire towered high into the sunlight and crisp autumnal sky, and was reflected in the river below; Dürnstein truly is Austria at its very best.

Dürnstein

 ....Reliving the old

As well as experiencing everything new, or as yet unvisited, which Vienna had to offer me, my recent work trip also offered me an opportunity to revisit my old haunts and generally experience the Viennese way of life as I remembered it.   Everything about every-day life in Vienna gives me a profound sense of reverse homesickness, from the dulcet tones of the U-Bahn announcer through to Kaffee und gluten-free Kuchen in the bright pink Aida coffee shops which adorn most street corners (the ones at Oper and Stephansplatz are, and always have been, my favourites).  There is something so unbelievably calming about the city, even though I have been known to exclaim ‘Geh bitte!’ with the best of the Austrians when the ‘D’ tram is running late (this is slightly ridiculous for two very good reasons: (1) Viennese public transport is very, very rarely late – I can remember only one occasion of it being late in the whole year I lived there; and (2) I have to deal with Transport for London on my daily commute and therefore should be used to delays!!).   

 Gluten free Kuchen at the Aida Cafe at Oper

Vienna is one of the most friendly cities you’ll ever visit – whilst enjoying a glass of the aforementioned Grüner Veltliner in one of my favourite cafes, the Cafe Theo on Franz-Josefs-Kai, I struck up a conversation with a couple about their lovely St. Bernard dog, who was also enjoying the atmosphere in the traditional Austrian Gaststube.  They assured me that the St. Bernard “wasn’t lovely but was very friendly”.  As friendly as the Austrians themselves, indeed.  I’m ashamed to admit that my German is now decidedly rusty and has more than a twinge of Essex accent to it, but I still love talking to the locals and using the wonderful Austrian dialect, including ‘Erdapfel’ (potato – think French ‘pomme de terre’), ‘Palatschinken’ (pancake – nothing to do with ham at all!) and ‘Marille’ (apricot, the flavour of choice for all Austrian jams). 

It feels like coming home

It’s actually quite difficult for me to sum up in words just how Vienna makes me feel.  Walking the cobbled streets of the first district, where I was once lucky enough to live, there’s a sense that nothing has changed; time cannot alter the regal, imperial feel of this beautiful city, no matter which shops and brands come and go.  Stephansdom presides over it all, with Kaiserin Sisi keeping a watchful eye on the city and Mozart being present everywhere, even if only in the costumed concert-ticket-sellers around Stephansplatz.   The sight of the Fiakers and traditional coffee houses and the general atmosphere of this wonderful place is able to soothe my soul in a way that nowhere else can.  It’s like stepping back in time to a much simpler way of life – or so it seems, at least, with my possibly rose-tinted glasses on.  All I know is that at the end of day two I’m sending my husband a text which reads: “Can we move to Vienna please?!!!”.

Fireworks in Fall: a surprising Autumnal break in Weymouth

A British seaside resort might not be everyone’s choice for an Autumnal break.  After all, our fair island isn’t exactly blessed with the Mediterranean sunshine of the Canaries or Greek Islands, nor is it as colourful as New England in the fall.  But my husband and I have taken a few weekend breaks away in this country, or mini-moons as we have taken to calling every short break we’ve had since we got married, and we were pleasantly surprised when we visited Weymouth for the weekend last Autumn.  Of course, we were lucky enough to have been blessed with fine weather for the days we spent in Dorset, but it certainly showed us that you shouldn’t rule out a British seaside town off-season.

Little luxuries

After a treacherous drive down to Weymouth from London, through thick fog, on the Friday evening, it was with some relief that we came to our chosen guest house.  My husband had booked the trip as a birthday treat, and he chose well: The Alendale Guest house was a welcome sight after such a frightful fog-filled journey; our room, housed in this converted grade II listed Georgian building, was cosy and welcoming, with an alluring little window seat and the added treat of tea and coffee making facilities as well as biscuits (as we get older, the appeal of a hotel with tea and coffee making facilities becomes strangely stronger!).  We awoke the next morning to find that we even had a side seaview, and went down to meet our hosts, Lesley and Clive, for a hearty combined English and Scottish breakfast.  The friendly owners of the B&B offer a flexible approach, and are happy to ‘mix and match’ the ‘English’ and ‘Scottish’ items on the cooked breakfast menu.  There were also cereals and yoghurts available for those that wanted something slightly lighter, all of which set us up for the day ahead.

Our lovely room at the Alendale Guest House

Exploring the British seaside on foot

Our excellent breakfast was exactly the start we needed to our day.  We often spend hours on foot when on our holidays, getting to know the local area and soaking up the atmosphere of a place by walking.  One of the things I love about British seaside resorts are the quirky little shops often found there, selling souvenirs and beach inspired home-wares, and our first morning in Weymouth was spent exploring the harbour area and mooching around its individual boutiques and craft shops.  We also took a stroll up to the Nothe Fort on the harbour peninsula, and would have gone in, but unfortunately it was shut for winter closing – this is one of the (few) downsides of visiting such a place out of season, so do check the opening hours of any places of interest before you visit.

Weymouth Harbour

As the weather brightened up that afternoon, we decided to visit a classic holiday spot within Dorset: Lulworth Cove.  I’d remembered the pretty circular bay from a school visit as a child, and wanted to take my husband to see the beautiful landscape of the area, so off we set.  We also tackled the 1 ¼ uphill walk to Durdle Door, the famous natural limestone arch just off of the Jurassic Coast – it was hard going, but one of the joys of autumn walking is the lack of oppressing heat which can hinder summer strolls.   The awe-inspiring views and the sight of Durdle Door were well worth the climb, and the refreshing cuppa in the cafe in the car park on our return was well deserved!

The spectacular view of Durdle Door

Autumnal treats

Although my husband hadn’t realised the significance of the date when he booked, we were actually visiting Weymouth over bonfire weekend.  What’s more, Weymouth stages an annual free fireworks display.  And so, wrapped up warm, we gathered with the thousands of other people waiting to see the display on Weymouth’s beach; the bonfire was burning, children had sparklers and then the bang of the fireworks started.  I have always loved fireworks being projected from the water, from those I have seen in Cala Llonga bay, Ibiza, through to the fireworks staged on the lake at Walt Disney World’s Epcot, and these were no exception; our only criticism was that we could have enjoyed them for longer!  The atmosphere within the town was incredibly friendly, there was no pushing and shoving as the crowds dispersed, and after the fireworks we enjoyed a warming meal in the nearby Ship Inn on Weymouth Harbour.  We finished off the night with a few rounds of the two pence machines in the traditional seaside arcades – when in Weymouth, and all that!

MONKEYS!!!

My husband’s whole reasoning for coming to Weymouth for the weekend was to do with the fact that I love monkeys.  This may seem like a strange reason until I tell you that Weymouth is close to nearby Monkey World, the ape rescue centre which assists governments around the world in rescuing primates from illegal smuggling, abuse or neglect.  The centre is a well run, educational visit for anyone with a love of animals.  You could easily see the level of care devoted to each of the primates living there.  One of the great things about visiting out of season was the fact that we were able to take in the keeper talks on both the chimps and orang-utans without having to struggle to hear over maddening crowds, and so we learnt a lot, not only about the species as a whole, but also heard lovely, heart warming stories about the animals as individuals.    Anyone visiting Dorset should most certainly put Monkey World on their list of visits, as it’s an excellent day out in this beautiful part of the country.

A gorgeous Orang-Utan at Monkey World

And so this was how we ended a weekend of Autumnal seaside success.  Yes, we were lucky with the weather, and yes, the fact that it was Guy Fawkes’ Night probably helped too, but we also had smaller crowds to deal with and those crisp autumn days in which to walk.  So I would definitely recommend a trip to the seaside this autumn.  Do your research, know what’s open and what’s happening, in case you don’t get as lucky as us, and just enjoy: our country has some lovely places for us to explore, if only we learn to take pleasure in the simple things.