Goddammit! I Deserve Better Coffee.

  

  Good morning, there. 

  I hope the week is treating y’all well. It has been a minute since I last posted anything on the blog. It’s not as though I didn’t have any material for it - I did - I just didn’t have the time or motivation, to be honest. For some reason, with the progression of spring, my hands have once again begun itching to keep up the blog. Perhaps because it is the one place I can vent and rant to my heart’s content. 

  
  Anywho, today, I was awoken with a few sharps raps on my door, which I wasn’t sure if I had actually heard or if they were figments of my dream. (I had not been sleeping well.) I checked my iPhone’s display for the time.

 08:05 am

  
  I thought, It can’t be the cleaning ladies; they come at 9. So, naturally, I closed my eyes, having accepted I had probably imagined the entire thing, ready to resume my incomplete dream. Then, came the second round of knocking. Okay, this time I had definitely not dreamt it. I shout, panicking, ‘Could you please come back after cleaning the other rooms?’ Yeah, I got that rapport with my cleaning ladies; it might or might not have been the first time they caught me oversleeping on cleaning day. 

  My groggy, sleep deprived, and still-half-asleep self got out of bed just as I heard the metallic clink of the cleaners’ keys and then of the door knob turning. I stumbled towards the door just in time to see a strange cleaning lady open the door. I repeated myself, this time without several feet and a door standing interference. ‘Could you please give me ten minutes,’ I say as politely as I can in my state. When she keeps looking at me, confounded, I realise I had been speaking in English; so, I repeated myself, this time in German, which turned out to be too much for my addled brain because I ended up saying something along the lines of “können Sie mir noch 10 Minuten geben - please - thank you.” You should have seen the look of utter disgust she threw me; like, she could no longer be bothered by students and their unsavoury lifestyles. 

  
  So, I got my ass out of my room as soon as I could and marched on over to my usual coffeeshop, ready to really wake up with the help of some coffee. I sat at my usual table with my cup of black coffee, my journal already out. I took my first sip, expecting to feel the lovely warmth of the lukewarm liquid traverse my throat, waking my conscious. 

  
  ‘WHAT THE-’ I almost spat out my coffee. Almost. 

  
  Coffee in Austria is, generally, never great, but today it was especially shit. I felt just as dead having drunk that cup of coffee as I did before drinking it. WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK? For the small fortune I pay for coffee on a regular basis, there is no reason why I should not be able to get better coffee. It is not even about the taste anymore. I just want to be awake after spending three euros on a cup of coffee. Is that asking too much? 

  
  Do you, honestly, think I would have payed three euros if I had wanted to go about my day dazed, half-asleep, and now annoyed? For fuck’s sake, Austria, it is not that hard. Coffee? Awake! No coffee? No awake.  Three euros poorer? AWAKE!! Three euros richer? No awake. For fuck’s sake!

  
  What is more bothersome than the atrocity cafes here try to pass off as coffee is that others aren’t bothered by this “coffee.” Perhaps because no one is ever awake enough to fully comprehend the shit they are pouring down our throats. Because everyone is drinking the same fucking shit-ass coffee. 

  
  Loath as I am, I must admit these zombies are not the lowest on the human chain. Hard to believe, isn’t it? No, they are one-upped, or rather one-downed, by the group of supposed humans: the non-coffee drinkers. 

  

  Like, bitch, why the fuck are you even called a drinker at that point? 

  Every now and then, to practice the feeble empathy my parents managed to instill in me in my childhood years, I try to understand their blasphemous disposition. No, seriously. There are times when I just sit, looking profound as fuck, staring tenderly at my coffee, wondering “what the fuck went wrong in your childhood that robbed you of the ability to appreciate such unadulterated love?” When I cannot come up with a trauma which would excuse such blasphemous behaviour, I simply shrug and say, ‘These bitches be trippin’.’ Then, I sip on my coffee. 

The Time I Almost Got Frostbite

Innsbruck, Austria, 2017.

  Last week this time, I had boarded a train which would whisk me off from the hum-drum and into the throes of something magical. At least, that is what I'd hoped; you see, the weather had been terrible. So I ate my doughnut and drank my coffee, all before I reached Jenbach. And no, I did not expect Jenbach to provide me with my dose of 'something magical'.

  After a somewhat brief thirty-three minutes, the train glided into the train station and me, bundled in a multitude of layers of clothing, which I hoped would shield me from the biting frost, my camera bag, and my now empty cup of coffee, stepped out on to the assuring concrete. As I found my way to the bus stop, I thought, almost euphorically, I'm finally going to Achensee. After months of procrastination and shitty situations, I am finally going.

  Either if you personally know me or if you have been reading this blog long enough, you know that my luck is the most rotten thing you will ever come across - worse-than-bread-that-has-mould-growing-on-it-contaminating-everything-else-in-the-fridge rotten. So, there is no way that my moment of jubilation could have lasted. Now that we have that out of the way, allow me to narrate exactly what happened.

  As I mentioned, my brain was experiencing a simmering elation at finally having gotten my lazy ass out of bed and en route Achensee. Having found the right bus stop, I gratefully plonked myself down on an empty wooden bench, right next to a pair of lovesick teens, who giggled like there was no tomorrow. My glove clad hands - my body was finally au fait with the cold - scour my bag for the book I had brought along. Having found it, I open it to the dog-eared page. The book was alright; it was about a psychiatry resident and his various encounters, many of which were amusing enough.

  After reading a few pages, I look up at the digital screen which would tell me when my bus would come. I was not pleased by what I saw. There was a sadistic 54 next to 83328.

  Fifty four fucking minutes! 
  Why did I have to wake up at 6 a.m. again? 
  Oh, that's right, I picked the one place in all of Austria with bad public transport.

  I had already lost most of the feeling in my hands and the tittering next to me seemed to have gotten louder in the past - I looked at my watch - only five minutes had passed? I contemplated drinking another cup of coffee but, in the end, my snobbishness about coffee obviated this urge. So I sat there for the next  forty nine minutes, hoping - no, almost praying - that the bus would arrive before I got frostbite, which it obviously did. 

  NOT!

  The bus came a looooong time after I had lost all feeling in my hands, the cold had even become sort of pleasant. That is when you know you're in trouble. Although, gratefully, after a long ten minutes enshrouded in the warmth of the heated bus, I did regain some feeling in my hands, all the while being subjected to the unaffected giggling of teenagers, who for some fucking reason were immune to the cold. 

  That's it for now. This blogpost was my attempt at conserving my ever-positive outlook on life. Until next time. 

Love,
Teenagers are blood-sucking monsters.

Autumn in Hall in Tirol

  It smells of earth that has recently had it's surface kissed by transparent pellets falling from the sky. The streets in Hall in Tirol protested Fall with their vibrant flowers to always keep one company. A gentle breeze caused the beautiful, parched leaves, clinging to their trees by nothing more than mere will, to fall and the already Fallen, strewn on the ground, to find a new home away from their former one.

  In my three ripe years spent in Europe, this was the first year when I appreciated the simple grace of Autumn. There was the faint chirping of a single bird, which seemed to originate from the tree in front of the olive green park bench, where my coffee and me were perched in our solitude. More brown leaves succumbed to the loving wind, while the healthy ones danced, as the church bells chimed. It was four o'clock. A window on my left reflected the vivid blue sky with no wisps of white to diminish it's vastness.

  I heard the siren of an ambulance in the distance, but, here, in my oasis, surrounded by the murmuring trees and the quiet of idle cobblestone streets of a small town, I feel partitioned from the plights of my fellow humans. It looks like more birds have joined; the chirping has increased in both - its frequency and its urgency.

  This town is a luxury for eyes that have been subjected to everything city: traffic signals, traffic, students, monotonous days and never-ending concrete. Hall in Tirol reminded me of Italy - Treviso, in particular. As I sat there, finally having sipped the last of my coffee - only the foam remained - the sun played Hide n Seek with the leaves, often procreating newer, darker patterns on them.

  I felt exhausted, despite having slept for a decent amount of time. Needless to say that the coffee had not done it's job. I'm going to stop writing now, I wrote in my journal. 

Until next time.
Love,
Anmol

Rattenberg And My First Snowman!

  Two absolutely amazing things happened today. First, for the first time ever I saw Europe in all its wintery glory. For the first time ever I had to trudge in freshly fallen virgin snow on my way to any place. Second, I think I saw my first ever snowman right here in the middle of a sidewalk. All the snow around it had been removed. Only the merry little snowman remained. The best part? It was the cutest little thing ever. 

  I also went to Rattenberg, Austria's smallest town, with a population of a 'whopping' four hundred people. It was a colourful little town. The kind which normally sees hoards of honeymooners, sipping on Spritz or coffees, in the summer months. It gave me the impression of an incredibly romantic town. At least that is what I gathered from the under all that snow. This little summer town also has a church, which is well worth a visit. On the way to the church you may notice a lift. Ride it up to the terrace, which offers you a view of the entire city, and which also leads you to the Schlossberg. 

  I do admit that on a day like this, where the snow was falling in abundance, accompanied by wind, the town - although beautiful - did give me the creeps. There was hardly a soul in sight. Yes, the weather was the guilty party. But in all fairness, with a population of four hundred how much busier can it really get?

  Anyway, my last tip for anyone interested to pay this little town a visit is to take a right after Postgasse and walk straight, until you see a few steps, which on climbing lead you to a view of the river and the houses dotting alongside the river. This really does make up for the tedious trundling because of the snow. After what seemed like an eternity to me, I walked back, furious shivering and on the verge of loosing one of my limbs to frostbite, towards the station, bidding Rattenberg adieu.

Once A City Girl, Always A City Girl.

  Vienna, you beauty!
  Every time that I have been in this city, I have left a little more beguiled and enamoured than the last time. The weird thing is that I absolutely loathed the city by the end of my first trip there. I think, it is one of those places that you just need some time to love.

  My first two times in this glorious city were overshadowed by the throngs of tourists that were there everyday but this time..this time was different. The starting of October, when Autumn has just arrived here in Vienna, most days it is not as cold as it is Voralberg right now, with hardly any tourists around clicking pictures, the city is calm. As calm as a major metropolitan can be.

  This time I stayed at Hotel Kummer that is directly outside the Neubaugasse UntergrundBahn station at Mariahilferstraße (one of the two major shopping streets). It was different living in the heart of so much activity. My one tip for enjoying Vienna is to forget the Museums. Honestly, they will just overwhelm you. FORGET THEM! The Indian in me is screaming, "What? How can you visit a place like Vienna and not visit the Museums?" but believe me, this time around trying doing it like the Europeans - stroll around the city early in the morning with a croissant and coffee in your hands, and late at night after you have stuffed your belly with good food. Appreciate the architecture and the history behind this city of 1.8 million people.

  The one way to know the way you feel about a place is to see it at night, and by questioning yourself if you like what you see around you. A true city should be able to hold its own under the dark skies. And Vienna does - the city is bathed by the glow of twinkling lights of the never ending restaurants, shops and buildings, with people loitering around, friends on their way somewhere; probably home or to some bar.

  The difference between a small town and a city for me lies in the fact that no matter how much I like living in a small town, I know that it is something fleeting. I do not envision my life over there. Whereas I can visualise myself living a full life in a metropolitan like Vienna or Paris. I see a future.
I guess, once a city girl, always a city girl?

Croissants And Joggers.

As much as I love being back home with my family and friends, I miss living alone. I miss waking up on Saturdays with the realisation that I have no groceries and then dragging myself in my joggers to the grocery store to buy croissants. I miss my long tradition of picking up frozen pizza on my way back home on Fridays and then finally having time to myself with my pizza to catch up on my Netflix list. In the early days Kevin used to be a constant at my place on the weekends. I would fix us some dinner (pancakes!!) and then we would talk for hours until my eyes would start drooping.

In summer I would buy gelato from an ice-cream parlour near my flat, and take a long stroll around the town. I miss going out for runs out on the roads without having to listen incessant honking in the background. Every weekend I would contemplate on whether I could afford not going to the gym, and then almost always going.

There would be days, when I would make myself breakfast pancakes or waffles with some fresh berries, cream and coffee. Those days made me appreciate the luxury of living alone the most.
As sporadic as my travels are, my life always had a certain routine, which I liked. In the past few months I automatically started spending less, and thereby saving more for travelling. I found myself constantly looking up places to visit, or watching endless videos on how to save enough money for my trips.

One big change that I noticed taking place in the span of the last few months was that I started wanting to get rid of a lot of my belongings. I know, it does not sound like a big deal, but I had been a hoarder all my life. I wanted to save everything that had ever been a part of my life.
What I realised once I started travelling more is that I did not need so many tangible things to prove that something was a part of my life, all I needed were the intangible things.

Do not get me wrong, I still have a few things I would like to cherish. It's that I just do not have as many materialistic things that I hold precious anymore. Realising this has give me a certain kind of freedom. Freedom to believe in myself and the fact that the important things are not going anywhere.

So, as much as I love my old apartment, I am okay with the fact that it might actually be a while before I have an entire house to myself. It will happen, maybe, just not right now.

Let's Ski.

Brandnerthal, Voralberg, 2016.

I started skiing two years back at the ripe age of seventeen, whereas most people learn to ski as kids.

Let me tell you, it is better that way. At least then you do not remember the pain of constantly falling on your face. :P 

This post is about the things I learned in these two years that are VERY VERY important and should at no cost be ignored. Especially if you are a beginner.

1) NO COUNTING CALORIES: The first time I went skiing, I had absolutely no idea that I would be sweating bricks under my jacket within the first 15 minutes. So eat well. Stop counting the calories and eat all the carbs that you can because your body needs them to generate energy while you ski.

Alpenhotel Zimba, Brand.

2) DO NOT DRESS TO WARM: Also, one of my very first mistakes; I did not regard the fact that skiing too is a sport, which means that you will most probably sweat. Which you will! So don't just pile on layers of clothes because chances are that it will be extremely hot under all those clothes.

3) NEVER WEAR GLOVES MADE OF CLOTH: Always, and I mean ALWAYS, wear those water-proof, special kind-of gloves. I once lent my Dad my gloves and hence had to wear these other gloves which were, as you can guess, not water proof (snow proof?), and believe me you, I thought that I would probably have frost bite by the time we go home. 

4) CARRY A CHOCOLATE / ENERGY BAR: This tip will make all the difference in the world, when you are a few hours in and tired because you have been skiing the entire afternoon. I honestly needed an energy bar so badly last year, when I first learned skiing.

5) STAY HYDRATED: Sports 101- always stay hydrated. The same goes with skiing. The minute you get thirsty, it is over for you. You can take a small bottle of water with you and then keep filling it up, or you could just buy one while stretching your legs at the restaurant there. Most pistons in Europe have one as soon as you ride the very first ski lift up.

6) LEARN YOUR LIMITS: Don't be stupid and try to push through exhaustion like you would do at the gym. The ski piston is not a controlled environment. There is always a possibility that you could fall off the regular course and find yourself alone with a broken leg.

7) PARTNERS: Try skiing with people, who can ski well. You will learn so much just by looking at them. Plus, they will help you up when you fall, which if you are a beginner, you will!

8) ASK: Do not be afraid of asking for help. I have had so much help every time I have skied. I shit you not, once I had to even be helped by the Ski Patrol, since I was stuck and none of us could figure out how to get me down the hill without me falling every two metres.

9) HAVE FAITH: One of the first things that any tutor teaches you is that you have to let go of the fear and trust yourself. You need to have faith that when the time really comes, your body will know what to do.

10) THE VIEW: Don't forget to look around you when take ride that ski lift or when you are at the very top. Just look around you and take in everything that you see. This is not something that you see everyday in life.

This view is everything.

At The End

HTL Dornbirn

As I sit for the last time as a student by the lockers, a lot of memories come rushing back to me. Memories of all the people I met, the late evenings spent studying here, the songs sung in these very corridors, tears that have been shed after a tough day, when I felt as if everything around me was crumbling, and the joy felt after I aced a test.

There were times when I thought that if I left, there was not anything or anyone that I would leave behind, whom I would miss. Oh, how wrong I was. There are so many people here, who showed me love and kindness. They helped me even when they did not have to. The past few weeks have made me realise that there are so many people and things that I will miss about my time here.

Firstly, I will absolutely miss meeting Selinay in the bathroom every once in a fortnight, when I have come to school early enough to be able to put some make up on. Secondly, the people in my class, whom I swore a few months back that there would be nothing to miss about them. The fact is although most of us are not the best of friends, there will always be things that will remind us of each other. Then come the second years who always managed to make me life with their silly arguments and their not so perfect english, especially on Fridays, when I would spend a little extra time in the Werkstätte.  I will miss Lucas, who always cleaned up the mess I made while punching, even when he did not have to. He taught a very significant amount of things in my one and a half years of having knowing him. Mostafa had a warped assed sense of humour. One would have to know him to know why something so mundane could turn out to be so funny, when said by Mosti.

Now come the really important people. Lalita being the very first friend that I ever made here, is also the one, who got me hooked onto Inuyasha! We spent hours talking about conspiracy theories, boys and the universe. Seli, with whom I have gotten into countless arguments, who gets pissed off at me so often but still loves me. We have made our own traditions of going to eat Döner, which started my love affair with Falafel.

Lastly, I shall miss my soul brother, Kevin, whom I am already trying to convince to come with me next year to the Dominican Republic (falls du das liest, ,,bitte!''). He stayed with me through all my anxieties and my matchmaking skills of trying to set him up with someone I know. I love you so much soul mate. Always be your stupid self, who sings french/italian songs with me, when I decide to stay in class until 7 pm)

Not all bonds made here are going to be lifelong, nonetheless they are bonds at the end.

Good Old Emotions.

Brand 2016.

On the way back home from Brand on Friday, I had this conversation with someone, who has studied Philosophy, about how you can only come so far with rational thinking. You cannot really make sense of life with practical thinking. So what is it that makes life worth living? Something that makes us feel as if we have lived.
Emotions.
Love, anger, misery, joy, lust, greed, passion, faith...every one of these emotions give our life meaning.
We are built to feel. We are incomplete without these turbulent emotions of ours. Emotions wake something inside us, a light, a fire, something that engraves in our bones the meaning of our moral lives. Something that makes us want to achieve more, love more, give more.
When I was younger I tried to drown out my emotions, as if ignoring them or distracting myself would make them vanish. Then I realised that you are supposed to feel these things. You are allowed to feel gut wrenching sorrow, and bone deep weariness. It does not make you happier if you just pretend that everything is alright, even when it is not. There are moments or even days when you will be brimming with happiness and joy. Joy at being alive, joy at being there, joy at all the things you did and decisions you made that brought you here, to this moment.
I know things are hard sometimes, actually, a lot of the times, but every now and then, in the midst of utter chaos you will find these short moments of peace and calm, and suddenly things will not seem that bad. There will still be chaos all around you, the only difference is, now you know that you will get through it. It does not seem like much, but believe me you, these moments are everything.

These are the things that make life worth living.

INNSBRUCK.

So today I had gone to Innsbruck with Kevin, and although we missed two trains (one in the morning and one in the evening) it was pretty amazing. When I say amazing, I do not mean life changing, just mean fun. As the day proceeded we found out that I have an ice-cream dance (Eistanz), and we discovered a new instrument- The Hang. This one guy had been playing this soulful melody as he sat on a chair outside a shop in this one small quiet alley in an otherwise loud Innsbruck.

We also visited the university and basically just walked through the city.
Weirdly enough it did not feel as if we were in some foreign city, it felt as if we were a part of the city. I guess this is just how a big city makes you feel.
The other thing that I realised is that I maybe miss living in a city. This city felt more like home to me than the place where I stay. Maybe it felt like this because I had a friend by my side cracking stupid jokes and laughing at my antiques.

Then, after we missed our train back home, I dragged Kevin back into the city because who would want to sit in the train station for the next two hours. Well, me. I won't lie, the temptation to just sit in the McDonald's there was present but I was not ready for the day to get over just then. I wanted to see the city once more.

I guess, when you see enough places in life, you realise, that all of them are essentially the same, the only difference lies in how and with whom you experience them.

The Eleven Phases.

19th February, 2016 Brand, Voralberg.

I was reading these things that I had written last year around this time, starting from my return after the Winter Break up until the morning of my first ski lesson. I do not know what I felt when I read about these things and these feelings that took place in my life last year. All I know is that I felt something.

I read this thing about how, let us say, Jessie made me feel last year. As if I could have it all, as if I did not have to choose. As if..somehow I would find my way in life. I had my entire life to find my way. After all is that not what life is all about.

Then things changed. My entire life did not feel long enough. I was always in this race to do everything and feel everything as if it could be taken away from me any second.

I went through many phases since that conversation with him. First, came the pure exhilaration at finally understanding that I could really do what I wanted to do with my life. Second, came the loneliness and depression around June. Third, came the realisation that you just have to let some people go because they will never be good for you. Fourth, came the boy phase. Fifth, came the point where I finally realised that I just wasted three months on useless people when I really should have been concentration on school. Sixth, came the part where I realised that there was no heartbreak that I am going to feel because although maybe at some point it had mattered, he had mattered to me, that feeling was long gone. Seventh, came the realisation that I do not and will not need anybody. Eighth, came the phase where I was tired of being this narcissistic self- absorbed girl that I had become, so I made some changes. Ninth, came the emancipation from finally after months of always having someone to lean on, to just be alone and be fine with, to just be able to listen to music and clean my house, or just be able to curl up on my couch and watch my favourite TV series. Tenth, came the self-doubt and uncertainty after just spending a day with him after a year. Eleventh, came the good sense to accept that nothing is going to happen between us and that it is actually a good thing.

So these were my eleven phases.