I am still on the lookout for more German-speaking friends. So on Saturday I walked from the bus stop into town via the park, where, unfortunately, the only youth seemed to be the large group of goths sitting around the bandstand, and I gave talking to them a miss.
I then went to the city museum, which was okay. Graz doesn’t have much of a history, but seems to be very proud of how the main town square looked in 1900. Highlights of my visit included experiencing the wall-size display dedicated to the Graz-native who’s credited with the triumph of photographing Miss Austria’s successful 1969 campaign (???), and waiting alone in the front row of a pitch black film room for five minutes before realising the projector wasn’t working. The building is also famed for being the birthplace of Franz Ferdinand, whose death is of WW1 fame. The room commemorating him was quite bizarre because it inexplicably had hot-pink wallpaper, blacked out windows, and masses of hay on the floor, like a weird animal boudoir.
The next day, continuing to allow my year abroad to resemble retirement, I decided to go to the Eggenberg castle. Spending my Sunday afternoon in what is basically a national trust park, wandering the gardens alone while waiting for my guided tour made me feel depressingly like a bitter, middle-aged woman. The tour lasted an hour and a half, and was mainly attended by flatulent old people. Dinner was mushroom soup, BBC recipe.
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