GRAZ - day 3 - 🇦🇹

Even though this visit of ours to Graz hasn’t been the first one ever to Austria, it never fails to surprise me how different things are here. I’m not necessarily talking about the obviously salient wealth difference, but people’s approach toward life and the  and expectations of their and their environment’s appearance. It is evident that people are better dressed and wealthier, and the overall standard of living is much higher than that of Hungary. The roads are brimming with newer and better cars, and the trams, buses, and trains are much better. The cities and even the small villages are cleaner, better organised, and the overall impression we get is people expect things to be right, organised, and in good condition. When a job needs to be done, they don’t seem to be reluctant to do it, and they demand quality. I don’t think the old Hungarian socialist attitude could work here for more than a second. And yes, the Germans and Austrians might be mocked for their meticulousness - which stems from the notion of them being picky for the alignment of things - but this is what made their industries successful and famous for their products. The standards they demand from themselves are extremely high; think of their cars, e.g., Volkswagen, Mercedes, and BMW, just to name a few. The service they provide is excellent, although there are exceptions, such as the arrogant and contemptuous waiter that served us in Vienna at an Aida confectionary. He resented us from the very first moment and couldn’t help but make it obvious to us how deeply he regretted us being in his territory. Even though he was clearly not the owner of said establishment, I reckon. 

Anyway, when I’m writing this entry, it’s 10 a.m. here, and Ági is at the linguist conference. She offered me a place to sit through her section, but my stomach has been struggling with the immense amount of cumin the austrian butchers smuggled into their sausages. My back passage resembles a machine gun, and the bulging lump on the front side of my body makes me look like a pregnant woman, so my presence at the conference could have been a visual, auditory, and olfactory disaster. It was the best decision to stay in the hotel room and make deeper friendship with the khazi.

My thoughts were revolving around Abby this morning. This time last year, I wouldn’t have thought how great of a part she would become of our life. But she did. And even though her absence is not painful during this short trip to Austria because we know we’ll see her tomorrow, the tension and presence of it are palpable. One more night, my little rascal.

I’ve bought two books, Only Fools and Stories and My Life by Sir David Jason, better known as Del Boy or Granville. I began with Only Fools and Stories because this seemed the obvious choice after watching the whole series, which I still cannot write my thoughts on. He has two more books available on Apple Books, which I’m willing to buy should the ones I’ve bought be as good as the first four chapters of Only Fools and Stories. Apart from a few language and grammar books, it’s been a while since I last read a book, from the beginning to the end.

Well, there is one more afternoon left here in Graz, and tomorrow we’ll travel back to Hungary. Despite having a relatively good life in Szentendre, when we leave our homeland, I don’t feel any particular homesickness that would enrapture my thoughts and urge me to return. I could imagine the rest of our lives somewhere in the Alps in a tiny house, which is far from the hustle and bustle of the cities. The surroundings of Graz look fantastic, so I wouldn’t mind moving here. But as the decades have gone by rapidly, we had to realise how much time we’ve wasted on people who didn’t deserve our attention, care, and time. So, even if we had the chance to move here, the timing of it wouldn’t be the best. I’m afraid, but that’s just as well.