Half of Bowser’s family lives in Austria’s westernmost region Vorarlberg. We go there when we can, so you would think we’ve seen a lot of it. Well… wrong! This is what our holidays in Austria usually look like: sitting around a lot, eating too much cake, reading books, talking (or in my case: listening, pretending to understand and smiling politely) and putting a wide-awake Bowser in his grandparents’ bedroom at 6AM so Anna and I can sleep some more. We barely get out of Röthis, the tiny village Bowser’s grandparents live. But this summer that’s gonna change. We are going to discover what fun things Vorarlberg has to offer!
Of course we don’t always just sit around and do nothing in Austria. We also sit around and drink wine. In May and/or September, for instance, we go to the Buschenschank. All other months we just make use of the wonderful tradition of Frühschoppen to get our daily amount of wine. Visiting the Buschenschank and going Frühschoppen are two of the absolute highlights of a holiday in Vorarlberg. This summer we’re gonna see if there’s more – perhaps even something that doesn’t necessarily involve drinking, so we can all enjoy it.
Anna and Bowser (and Dr. Watson) already have holidays for two weeks, so they took a flight to Austria a while back. My holidays just started, so I’m driving there tomorrow. I don’t know yet what exactly we’re going to do, but I suspect it will involve an opera on the water, a so-called Cheese Trail and maybe some hiking in the mountains or sightseeing in nearby towns. Or perhaps we end up sitting around after all, enjoying the nice weather and playing with Bowser’s two-month-old cousin Ignaz*.
Anyway, we’ll keep you updated about our holidays and Bowser’s progress in his development as a human being. Last summer in Austria he learned how to move forward on his belly. Let’s see what his new tricks at the end of this summer are going to be. Perhaps he’ll figure out that things (cups, bottles, food, toys, phones, plates) don’t automatically become balls when you throw them on the floor, kick them around the room and shout “ball, ball!” But maybe that’s just wishful thinking…
*We don’t use the real names of babies mentioned in this blog, at least not as long as they can’t approve of us sharing their personal information on the internet (and usually babies are not yet able to make such decisions). So, Ignaz is not his real name. It’s what his name should’ve been, if only we lived in a perfect world.