Sitting in the car with the windows down, a car pulled up on the left with an Italian radio channel on. Ciao! Grazie, my mind wandered to the sights, sounds and smells of Italy. Felt like a lifetime ago.
Walking past a busy caffetteria, the clanging stacks of mugs and saucers and gorgeous aroma of coffee camouflaged a vivacious language from behind the counter. I don’t know what they are saying, but it all sounds familiar and caused a smile to etch on my face.
A little historic town called Hahndorf boasts of bier, wursts and sauerkraut. Hey, even a Hofbrauhaus! I had trouble reading the little Deutsch blurb on the beer bottle. What Hefeweizen meant, I have forgotten. As if squinting at the fine text would help. I am, and have been, too far away from land of Deutsch.
Receiving a letter from our former next-door neighbour in Maur. Reliving memories of our time sharing dinners, chats, and outings together. I now do enjoy making appointments well in advance; something spontaneous would catch me off-guard.
Five-day work weeks and businesses closing in the early evening. How “European”, how familiar.
The prominence of wine and the importance of good food here in South Australia — I am compelled to think these are values more well-prided than in the old countries.
Little hints from my environment would take me back in time to our days on the European continent while in South Australia. Who knew? Memories fade fast, however, and often I feel so far and well-removed from the rest of the world.