Small world

For some reason, every time I leave Graz on the train, there is someone I know sitting in the same wagon. It was fun the last two times, but on Saturday I couldn't believe it when I saw someone I had only spoken to once (and whose name I didn't know) walking towards the empty seat opposite mine. I had been hoping for some relaxing time with my music and the scenery outside. Covering my face with both hands didn't help, so I had company until Selzthal, where I had to change trains. In the end, it was relatively harmless company - the only time I was bothered was when the loud techno basses blasting from his earphones created an unsettling background to Brahms's "Warum ist das Licht gegeben".

Pulling out of Graz Hauptbahnhof.
Linz, an industrial centre and Austria's third-largest city, was interesting to see, but didn't make a very big impression. Not for the first time, I had to argue with a waiter on what I was supposed to pay for my lunch - it drives me crazy when they bring you nice little side dishes in addition to what you have actually ordered and then you are expected to pay for them. I didn't give up without a fight (the restaurant manager was called in) but ended up dishing out the 3€ more. I realise I'm becoming more fearless in confronting people who make a lousy job of customer service. Yesterday, I exchanged some murderous looks and snappy replies at the ticket counter of Wien Westbahnhof. Then again, maybe I'm just becoming really rude.

Birds in Linz.
Yesterday, a friend introduced me to Aschach an der Donau (pop. 2000), a town, you might say, not on every backpacker's to-do list. All the better! Saturday evening was spent at a Latin household there (could it get any more bizarre).

One of Aschach's main thoroughfares.
It's hard not to think that, somehow, everything you read or watch or listen to is ultimately connected. It's the feeling I get when I arrive at a strange house and the music playing in the background is a piece I've been recently thinking about, or when Hermann Hesse mentions Händel's "Israel in Egypt" in his "Steppenwolf". Or, for example, when I'm driving past Graz airport and just happen to see an airplane with a friend inside. Life's full of coincidences.