moments

My mum was here for the weekend. She left early on the Sunday, and I sat on my bed, surrounded by the pictures, trinkets, and furniture that she had brought over, idly wondering what to do with the day, trying not to feel glum. They were showing a double bill of After Sebald and Museum Hours in Dalston, and that seemed just right. I cycled to the station, got on the train, carried my bike down the stairs, cycled to the cinema, and took my seat amongst elderly couples. Mozart's clarinet concerto was playing over the speakers. 

After Sebald is a wonderful film; Museum Hours was faintly disappointing. It was strange to see Vienna in its gloomy, miserable winter glory; strange to realise that I know every corner in Vienna so well, and that I will never know London as well as that.

What I liked best about the last few weeks: listening to the new Arcade Fire album, thus drowning out the sound of the train rattling through endless tunnels; discovering a new-to-me author; watching superhero films with my flatmate; that time my train back to London got cancelled because of a storm (an extra night in Durham, a few more hours holding hands); spending an entire morning in a café, eating toast and reading. And every moment that I spent on my bike.

on weekends

On weekends I take it easy. I try to avoid the crowds. I try to read novels (and not the papers, not the LRB). I always eat a lot of cake.

During the week I listen to Elliott Smith on my headphones to drown out all noise (and the reality of a long commute). I read articles about literature and history on the tube that sometimes make me sad, sometimes make me laugh. I cycle to my tube stop.

Modern life is very strange, and yes, a bit rubbish. (I don't think I knew what modern life was before coming here.)

last days

Last days: I said goodbye to my room (not cool). Saw excellent clouds. Drank ridiculous, Viennese-style coffee before eating pizza and watching Star Trek with my brother. Had breakfast at one of my favourite cafés. Went to the museum to say goodbye to Bruegel. Wandered around town with a dear friend and drank my favourite drink. Had a barbecue with my brothers' lovely friends. Drank champagne which my colleague brought to work on my last day. Wore a celebratory necklace made out of tinsel. Had dinner with my dad. How many blue shirts can I pack in one bag? Found the best present in my bed when I came home: vegetarian Austrian cuisine. Yum.
Bye Vienna. It's been great.

pink

The best museum shop I've ever seen. Because colour-coordination is everything.

ch-ch-ch-changes

It's been a while. I went to Rome. On the day I came back from Rome my boyfriend came to Vienna. Three days later I spilt a glass of water over my computer and it broke. Then I went to Durham for a few days. Enough to keep anyone busy.

But when I was in England I also went to London for a day. For a job interview. And I got the job. And I danced around in my pyjamas a lot.

I'll be moving to London in less than a month.

this week

Here are two things I like, one serious and one... not so serious:

This post about women in the literary arts. And this post about the subtitles on an old vcd copy of Harry Potter.

breakfast

We ate breakfast at various small cafés every day when we were in Hamburg. Is there anything better than the combination of eating muesli, having a good conversation and drinking a cup of tea? I think not. Breakfast time is my favourite time of day.

Arriving in Hamburg

 

I went to Hamburg by train. I like going to sleep and waking up in a new town, but this time we were 90 minutes late and I was tired, just wanted to be there already. I wandered to the hotel and into our room, a room that looked like a time capsule from the 50s, with English magazines and Physics papers stacked neatly on a little table. I was too tired to do much exploring, so I just walked over to Tide, a café not far from the hotel, a café that sold driftwood and cake and Franzbrötchen. A good place to read a book and have breakfast. I liked that place a lot, liked that part of town. But what I liked best was leaving the café on that first day, walking to the railway station, waiting for a bit and then returning to the hotel, not alone anymore.

remote island

 

So much snow, but no winter blues so far. Here's why: I'm wearing proper boots and I still walk everywhere at full speed, listening to The Lucksmiths or In Our Time. I get warm, I avoid overheated trains, everyone's happy. 

When I get home I read and read. The Atlas of Remote Islands was a Christmas gift that I really enjoyed, it was full of half-remembered stories about explorers that I must have known once, back when I was a child and interested in explorers like all children. Oh, and writing letters (or lists) helps, too. I guess I quite enjoy this prolonged opportunity to hibernate, to dream of summer and make plans, to curl up in bed and go to sleep early, to come up with new rituals (or just to try new teas).

 Have you seen Jessica's list of books? So good!

simple pleasures

 

My flight to London was diverted. A journey that should have taken four hours ended up taking nine. When I finally arrived, I felt dizzy with hunger and relief. We bought a M&S pasta salad and I felt better immediately. It was New Year's Eve.

Over the next few days, we took it easy. I read: The Times Literary Review, The London Review of Books, Framley Parsonage by Anthony Trollope, the Everyman collection of Cat Stories (of which I liked Alice Adams' The Islands especially), and Atlas of Remote Islands by Judith Schalansky. We went to the theatre (Uncle Vanya) and I finally made it to Violet's in Dalston. Simple pleasures, all the time.

reality

Hugging the cat, watching films - carrot soup, Christmas eve - perfume oil - cat brooches and Max Weiler, always - still thinking about Iris Murdoch.

Yes, I'm thinking about the past year too. It's been difficult, it's been beautiful, I've learned so many things, but if I were to sum it up I'd probably say that I've grown up. I read and re-read Iris Murdoch's essay The Sublime and the Good which is where the quote in the last picture is from. You may say that it's trite, but it isn't for me. It's what I'll remember when I think about 2012 in the future, because ultimately that's what all the hysterical laughter is all about, that and the occasional arguments, the sandwiches by the river, the e-mails, crying on trains, kissing on or under bridges, drinking tea or gin, hiding in the library, missing people terribly, playing ukulele to surprised people in boats, tight hugs, everything. To me, growing up is a long and painful process that has much to do with learning about other people, not just about myself. Who knows what the next year will bring? I'm guessing ch-ch-ch-changes, to quote David Bowie.