Austria here we are

Last Sunday Jasi and I took the long drive to Fohnsdorf, Uli's hometown in Styria. It's isn't all that far as the crow flies but then there are the Alps - sort of in the middle of everything - and a large detour up to Munich then down to Salzburg and then down south and East along the Mur-Valley. It was a nice drive but - predictably - as we got closer to Fohnsdorf it started raining. That was predictable because I haven't spent a single day in that village over four or five years now when it didn't rain, literally. All everybody ever told me was: "we had such great weather last week, last month, sometime in the past" - didn't help me much as I was sitting there, freezing at like 12 degress Celsius in drizzle or worse pouring rain with a toddler who was taking the in-law's apartment apart out of sheer boredom. And, unfortunately, there are many things in this apartment a toddler can destroy by just looking at it crossly.

We were, though, sort of lucky this time. It hasn't really rained hard since we got here and yesterday it didn't rain at all, it didn't even look like it was going to rain - best day here ever.

So, what did we do? Honestly, there isn't all that much to do here. It's a village of 8,000 people who's claim to fame is that it it Europe's largest village (I guess, I have to read up on the technical definition of the term "village") - and that is it. Being a former coal-mining village, located in a broad valley, it lacks the typical Austrian-steep-valley-and-mountains charm in fact it is more like little Liverpool in Austria. The people are friendly but hard to understand. After many years of practice I can manage more or less okay but once they get started in their local dialect all bets are off. For one they don't want their vowles to be lonesome and so pretty much every vowel gets a companion. To me it often seems random but I am sure there is some method to the madness. Let me give you an example: nice or gentle or cute is "lieb" (pronounced like "leeb") but in Styria it is "liab". Can't have a lonesome "i" now, can you and the "e" doesn't count as it isn't pronounced therefore let's throw and "a" in. "o" seem to get a companion-a as well, the "u's" get "o's" and so forth, and then there are the exceptions. Conversely, diphthongs tend to get divorced - just for the heck of it. Just think of what they make of the name of a nearby town called Leoben! To my horror my little one has started to pick up certain idiosyncracies of the language. It is amazing with what ease he says the most difficult vowel minglings which I, honestly, just can't pronounce. Not sure, though, whether I like him running around screaming: "soa a woahnsiann" ("such craziness" a comon saying meaning everything for "this is starck raving mad" to "this is phantastic").

We got here just in time to see Austria loose to Germany during the European soccer championship. Everybody knew that this was the very likely outcome but hopes run high that there would be a miracle, that God himself would intervene on behalf of the underdog. Well, seems like he/she was busy doing something else and so Austria lost, albeit not spectacularly, to Germany. To be on the safe side I had parked our car with German license plates off the street but the Fohnsdorfer took it all in good humor and Dad's car survived untouched. The locals I talked to before the match were in fact accutely aware of the hopelessness of the situation. The busdriver whom I had a conversation with actually recommended that the Austrian team would do better "knitting than kicking" (makes little sense in English but is kind of a cute rhym in German "besser stricken als kicken"). That didn't deter the fans, in fact pretty much the whole nation from showing up in the publich viewing spaces called "fan miles" (large screen TV's, lots of beer) dressed in red and white, with red and white face paint and red and white wigs. Sort of cute how grown men tend to make complete idiots out of themselves when it comes to black-and-white balls.

We visited the local coal mining museum with Opa, who used to work in the pit before the whole operation was closed down some time in the late 70s or early 80s. As usual Max got to sit in places and operate machines and levers other kids don't ever get to touch. I have to admit that the actual pit was a very uncomfortable place: predicatbly tight and low and narrow but also cold when we all had expected it to be warmer down there. I guess we just weren't close enough to the center of the earth yet to feel the heat. Must have been a real sucker of a job, especially in the early days when they did everything by hand and kids - who from the pictures didn't look more than eight years old - where working alongside the men.
Jasi and I took a couple of trips to the local shopping mall but having such limited suitcase space really takes the fun out of shopping. Everytime I see something nice I have to wonder where the heck I am going to fit it and by and large the answer is "nowhere" and so the sale ain't happening.
Other than that there is a lot of sleeping going on, naps in the afternoon and such like. Last night we where outright debauched when between Jasi, Elisabeth (my sister in law) and myself we drank a bottle of Prosecco and two bottles of something that I am reluctant to admit I ever tasted for fear that everybody will think that I lost my mind but so be it: it was some very strange concoction of some type of bubbly alcohol with fruit juice, sugar and yoghurt (yeah, that ain't a typo), it was opaque and came in the beautiful colors of purple (blueberry), red (strawberry) and orange (peach) - the last one we refused to even taste. For somebody who likes her champaign super-dry with a slight yeasty note this would by no stretch of imagination count as a beverage of choice. But, when in Rome do as the Romans.
While we were drinking and chatting Germany scored a surprise victory over Portugal, the clear favorite in this match. We didn't watch the game but Elisabeth's son provided updates on the goals the German's scored and the Portuguese living across the street made sure we knew about the goals the Portuguese scored. Tonight Croatia, Jasi's home country, is playing Turkey for a spot in the semi-finals and so Opa and Jasi are watching while I am writing. I am getting a huge dose of soccer after all and I might want to add: it just started raining.

Tomorrow we will leave for the boonies, that is that remote valley with cabin that Uli selected for our second week in Austria. Allegedly the farmer who's cabin we are renting has high-speed internet access - how the times have changed! So there will be updates from nowhere, or rather Jonsbachtal, a place pretty unknown to humankind in the remote parts of upper Styria.