Another blog, another city. Ah, the joys of not having to work or be in one place for too long. I must say, I'm going to miss this lifestyle when my money runs out and I have to be productive again!

Just before I left Munich, Jeremy popped in on his way to a wedding in a castle in the Südtirol. It's not what you know... It was great to see him. We stayed up late chatting and drinking Tim's beer (thanks Tim!) and then I saw him off to the station the next morning.

Sadly I couldn't be at the Fest for the final weekend. Instead, on Friday afternoon I caught a train down to Salzburg to catch a plane back to London. In the train with me were two drunken fat old Germans. Quite entertaining. Actually one was Turkish, but had lived in Bavaria long enough to get a taste for the beer, judging by appearances! Then, at Salzburg station waiting for the bus to the airport, I got chatting with a Kiwi who had just spent three weeks bussing it between various cities. She is currently living in the UK and we had a good old chat about travel and (bizarrely enough) electricity industry deregulation - she had worked in that field as a consultant before leaving New Zealand.

I made my way back to Leamington that night, picking Simon & Hester up from a dinner party in Kenilworth and getting stopped by police on the way home because apparently I was weaving across the lines in the road, but luckily I hadn't had a drop all night so they agreed the lines were so worn out you couldn't see them anyway - but it's a good job I decided not to drive so fast when that car pulled out behind me, eh! Also, I felt like telling the constable about how in advanced driving classes they tell you to ignore the partition line if you can see ahead anyway, but I thought that might get his back up so I didn't bother.

Anyway, the good thing is that I got to spend a few hours on Saturday at Simon's, sorting out my website, and then Jackie & Phil kindly ferried me to and from Cathy & René's wedding in Birmingham that evening. Another multi-culti-party with Danes and Irish all over the dancefloor! My kind of do, but alas I couldn't stay very long, because I had to get back to Stansted early the next day.

I flew to Graz, was met by Michael & Barbara at the airport and then whisked off straight into the beautiful countryside of southern Styria, to enjoy some of this year's young wine - called Sturm because it's like having a tornado in your bloodstream if you drink enough - at a typical restaurant in Europe's highest-altitude village that has associated vineyards (if that makes sense). Then we went back to Barbara's parents' house, nestled among her father's extensive orchards (apples, pears, grapes, chestnuts, fabulous).

I spent Monday in Graz - this year's European City of Culture - with Michael. Very nice it is too, with UNESCO World Heritage status for its Old Town roofscape and some sexy new buildings that look like they've been squeezed out of a tube thrown in for good measure. We sampled more Styrian cuisine, but agreed that Barbara's cooking is much better. I didn't realise Austrian food was so regionally varied - they have all sorts of bean, polenta and chestnut dishes in Styria that I've never heard of up the way in Lower Austria.

One highlight of the day came as we were leaving the new floating café that has been built in the river: walking towards us we saw the most outrageously camp fifty-something pair of old queens I have ever seen, walking their cat. On a leash! I ask you! Ironically it seems they couldn't bear to be parted from their pussy. Then we drove to Vienna.

The next few days I relaxed in Vienna, and got some personal housekeeping done - like AT LAST sorting out the insurance claim on my flat in Leam that has been vexing me since July. Also, I met up with Michlmayr Markus, and went in to his school to do an impromptu "English with a native speaker" class with his 14-year-old physics group. It was quite fun actually - and it really reminded me of my year as a language assistant in Santander.

Then I decided I would try to get a Slovakian stamp in my passport before they join the EU next May by spending a day in Bratislava. After all, it's only an hour from Vienna in the train. But I was too shy to actually ASK for a stamp when the border guard returned my passport after a cursory glance. Hey ho. She didn't look like the type you'd want to mess with, or in any way slightly perturb.

I undertook the trip having the impression that Bratislava was probably pretty but will have suffered at the hands of Soviet-era concrete lovers. I wasn't completely wrong. My fears of a nice Habsburg Old Town having been ravaged by flyovers and tower blocks were, however, unfounded. The nastiest concrete areas are across the river, leaving the historic centre pretty untouched. And that's getting a good old sprucing up too, doubtless in time to celebrate "rejoining" Europe in 2004.

Back in Austria, I spent a few days in our village, getting the house sorted out. It was one of those weird time dilation effect situations: during each day, time stretched out. I spent much of every evening reading or playing patience (classic Austria summer holiday pastimes), and much of the daytime either pottering about in the garden (mostly picking up walnuts), cleaning the bloody windows inside and out (old-style doubling glazing has its drawbacks) or chatting with Tante Inge next door or other relatives and family friends. But somehow, when I came to leave on Wednesday, I felt the time had been far too short. There was so much left to do in the house in terms of getting rid of junk and redecorating. But I wasn't going to start any of that on my own.

I spent one last night in Vienna, staying with cousin Eva after having met up with Uli & Katrin Pum for coffee and Eva for curry and cocktails. We discovered a recently-opened Brazilian bar, cunningly called Barzil, whose proprietor did indeed serve excellent caipirinhas. As we were the only customers, he joined us at our table and we had a great multilingual conversation (oh yes, of course I had to show off by speaking Portuguese and Spanish as well as German and English!) which turned into a singalong with Anderson - that's the owner - on guitar and vocals and me on harmony and screechy guitar-solo-impression for Hotel California!

And now I'm in Berlin, staying with Lasse. While writing this blog (a bit of a long one isn't it) I'm looking out of the window at a perfect blue sky and thinking 'I should be out there'. So I'll sign off now. T'rah.