Mission to Graz

26-30 Sept 2011

Having made arrangements with veteran Teaching Assistants (TAs) to tag along with them to Graz.  I hauled my weary bones out of Wombats early Monday morning.
I was exhausted.

I had spent my Sunday struggling to polish my MA thesis that was due for submission on October 14th.
I had to carry my bulky heavy bags to Graz; I had nowhere to leave them in Vienna.  My camping bag I swung onto my back (with tremendous effort I might add), my rucksack onto my chest.  I dropped my coat oever my rucksack onto my chest.  I dropped my coat over my rucksack, a copy of Terry Pratchett's Small Gods poking out of the coat pocket.

I made my way to Meidling station to rendezvous with the second year TAs.  I bought my ticket.  I bump into the elders, Tori, Simon and Fabian.
I was told that I resembled a pregnant woman.  I don't deny this, although I believe  that almost any and every pregnant mammal could move with more grace and dexterity than I could muster.

On the  train we chatted and exchanged jokes.  In Graz (two hours before junior TAs were expected).  I found myself turned away from Existentialhaus and forced to walk the hot humid streets of Graz.  I was reluctant to wander far for fear I lose my way, my navigation skills being exceptionally poor.

I remembered then, that I had no toothpaste.  Immediately I became self-conscious and concerned for the well-being of my teeth and general oral hygiene.
I bought some toothpaste.
In another shop I bought sparkling water.
The heat was intense.

I returned to Existentialhaus closer to the pre-ordained time and find the reception more enthusiastic.

At the door I meet fellow TAs.
New blood, fresh spirits just like me.
We chat.
Exchange polite niceties.

There is some trademark bureaucracy to be administered and in the ensuing confusion it is suggested that I did not pay the seminar fee.  Strangely enough my Graz room mate, Peter, suffered a similar misunderstanding but after a phone call we get our key.
A few days later after some breathless persistence and blue-face insistence we clear things up.

In the afternoon we were hungry.
The group of TAs has been cleft in twain, one is to remain at Existenialhaus (and in future they commute daily), the others are escorted to the hilltop refuge of St. Martin's schloss.
Beautiful and picturesque.

We eat a meagre but long anticipated meal.
Relishing every bite.
Then, there were speeches and talks.  This was followed by wine, juice and mixing with the new kids.
A night of chuckles and bonding ensued.


Tuesday was another eventful day filled with lectures and seminars.
The TAs were divided into groups.  These groups gave us an insight into work as a TA and also helped us to understand the mindset and thinking of the youths we would be assisting.

We played games and sometimes we spoke German.  Owing to time constraints the seminars were intense (although the late night bonding may have exacerbated conditions in the late Summer heat).

Our evenings were packed with activities including a tour of Graz.
There were ample opportunities to get to know people.
The problem was of course, that Schloss Martin presented quite the hike and in late hours it was more feasible to get a taxi or indeed stay where we were (i.e. to not leave castle and some nights we didn't.  Except for those few abortive attempts to find a nearby pub.

Thursday was an emotional day topped off by a talent show.
There were various displays of our generations great potential, including some great dancers, musicians, singers and a dash of interpretative dance as well!

Afterwards, we shared a laugh as we drank the last of the wine, accepted the good advice of our mentors exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addresses before succumbing to fatigue.

The next day, some of us were a little worse for wear.  It was a good week.
Friday was marked by the dash for train as the mass exodus of Graz had begun.   Some were wise to stall and wait a little long but many of the rest of us found ourselves squeezing into aisles, our bodies pressed tightly together, faces buried in sweaty armpits and worse, before being ushered on, on what felt like a perpetual poke toward the furthermost carriage.
With much ado I found a seat.
Our journey back to Vienna had begun.
Monday would bring a whole new world of experience.

Rathaus excursion (Vienna part 3)

15 October 2011

On 15 October a delegation of Teaching Assistants sought to sample the three day Terra Madre market and avail of a free buffet lunch cobbled together from samples.

Several local and not-so-local traders set up stalls at the Rathaus promoting their organic goods and foods.  There were a wide selection of cheeses and sausages, tofu, sauces, jams, sweets, cakes and pastries.  It was an education and experience for the palate.

We weaved through the crowds, squeezing through clusters to steal a glance at the many beautiful stalls.  We wandered around dipping into the various displays, sometimes shamelessly so, the wooden toothpicks gripped in our vice-like hands, stabbing down like pistons and retracting with a prize.

We brushed shoulders with locals, organic farmers from near and abroad; some travelling great distances to be there. 

The atmosphere was relaxed and friendly, some locals venturing to ask if the Czech pastries were as good as the Austrian ones.

I replied with a blank stare and then a sympathetic frown.   Thinking back now, it was most likely a rhetorical question.

All in all, it was a wonderful afternoon and we came away with a taste for some local cuisine and a contented bellyful of pastry. 

Vienna (Part 2)

Destination Wombats


Boarding the S7 I wipe the vestiges of tears  from my cheeks.
I've begun a new life.
I change over to the U3 at Landstrasse and make my way to Westbahnhof.  I have to find a hostel at the top of Mariahilferstrasse; the major shopping street in Vienna.  With much ado I find the right U-bahn exit and at the hostel's counter I pay my dues.  However, I cannot access my dorm bed until 2pm.  I have to wait and I have 2 hours to kill.

In this time I avail of overpriced and cheaply manufactured crap coffee and devour the last of my milky moos.  I wait.   I eventually gain access to the wifi.
I lounge around until finally at 2 o'clock I can enter my room.  Exhausted and with the anticipation of a sneaky nap I slowly, awkwardly ascend the stairs and find my dorm.  I flick the card against the reader and breach the room.
I meet three people; two Californians and a Dane.

I get a text from a fellow Irishman and teaching assistant about coffee in the city.
I make my bed, tease my weary soul by lying in it (ever so briefly), after some brief banter with the Americans  I leave to meet my comrade.

We meet at 1516.
We walk and talk
We visit a book store.
Today is Thursday, September 22nd and it is Arthur's Day.
Arthur Guinness the patron saint of alcoholic beverages.

To celebrate (and grab a piece of this highly glorified binge session) we travel to Charlie P's on Waehringer Strasse.  Here, we eat and drink and meet fellow Irish pilgrims who have sought out the closest sacred ground to Ireland's favourite pastime
So, ends my first day in Vienna.

Vienna (Part 1)

22 September 2011

I wake.
It's 02:30 I have to catch a bus to the airport a 03:35.  A quick breakfast and two mugs of tea later my parents are lifting my bags into the boot of the car.
We're off.  It's a four mile journey into town and the roads are eerily quiet.  We arrive in good time.
The bus is late.
After much fretting and bluffing, I almost consider submitting and retreating home to recommence my sleep, my flight at 07:10 will not wait for me.  The bus comes and only 50 minutes late.  Bus Eireann at their finest.

The coach rumbles into earshot and tears up the street before edging into the bus stop.  I bid my parents farewell and I board the vehicle that will carry me to my next destination.
I inquire as to the origin of the delay.
The bus driver stares and not until he realises that I am waiting for an answer does he offer a response;
'I had to get my break.'

We stop a few miles down the road-a toilet break.  After having presented the excuse that he was late because of a compulsory coffee break, he feigns concern for his passengers and steals another.

Not without some nail biting and murmuring between passengers (most of which are destined for the airport and on a tight schedule).  We arrive at Dublin circa 05:30.  I rush through security, weaving through the crowd with a disproportional piece of my life squeezed into only 2 bags.  Roughly 18 kilos.

A humbling notion.

I'm upset and I text my girlfriend because the old adage rings true; 'misery loves company'.


Armed with a bag of milky moos, I feel brave enough to fly and to cope with the changing pressure and unavoidable popping of ears.
I breach the gate and board the vehicle of my destiny.