Concert cycles to die for

An annoying thing about Austrian groceries' opening times is the fact that after sitting eight hours on a train, when the only thing you want to do is go straight home, you are forced to ask yourself what you want to eat tomorrow and after tomorrow for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and you should do it quickly before the shops close for the weekend. I actually saw a saleswoman pushing out a distraught customer from the railway station's Tabak (the local R-kioski) and lock the door - I could forget about stocking up on my mobile phone credit and public transport tickets, then.

I find it amusing that the German and Austrian state railways like to give their train services names. They range from the logical (one of the services from Graz to Vienna is called "Grazer Oper") to the absurd - yesterday I travelled on "Intercity Hollywood Megaplex Kino". Maybe a reference to a dream of making Linz Europe's movie powerhouse? Or, more likely, a tribute to the fantastic scenery seen from the megaplex of the wagon windows. Austria's mountainous landscapes win hands down over Germany's more down-to-earth views.

In the throes of a nap.
Unfortunately, the sun didn't really come out in Bamberg until yesterday, so Thursday's walk up to Michelsberg and the cathedral was a wet one. Bamberg has its own flair - where else can you find a quarter called "Little Venice" - but, as we were saying with Andy, it lacks a certain comopolitanism which, I'm happy to say, Graz has, even if you only thought of its share of African immigrants and ex-Yugoslavian beggars (something I wasn't expecting when I first arrived here). Every town has its charms and its setbacks and there's nothing like comparing them!

Somebody's wild imagination on display in a Bamberg bookstore.
The day before yesterday, Andy took out his treasure trove of Disney soundtracks and we burst into song together with our favourite damsels in distress: Ariel, Belle and Pocahontas to name a few. By the time we reached "A whole new world" I think we had seriously scared his girlfriend. Sometimes it's really bizarre to realise how many things we have in common although we have spent our childhoods in virtually different worlds.

A common view from a regionalzug. Avoid them at all costs.
Referring to the title of this post, some friends and I have had fun lately making up imaginary concert cycles a choir could present. Allow me to introduce some of them:
-"The Stalin prize winners - who were they?" (including Shostakovitch's oratorio "Song of the forest")
-"Allahu Akbar! Music from the Jihad heartlands"
-"Gala concert for the hearing impaired" (featuring theatrical elements)
-"0 points! The Eurovision losers in a new light"
-"Disney like you've never heard it before" (the most realistic yet)

Feel free to add.