This post has nothing to do with the colourful, paint-splattered Holi festival, nor with bad laundry skills. It’s actually just some pictures of the super impressive graffiti along the banks of the Danube by my house.


Yesterday, in a fit of madness, I decided to go for a run, which hasn’t happened since last summer if I remember correctly. Even that was a half-hearted grumpy lollop up a hill and back down after promptly dropping my phone onto the road and smashing the screen. To say the least, running isn’t really my thing?

Anyway, I arrived back in Vienna from my Easter Excursion down to West Cork (spot of kayaking after pulling the boat 200 metres through quick sand – don’t mind if I do) to find it’s suddenly burst into summer, having missed out on Spring completely. It’s a cheery 24 degrees here at the moment up until about 6pm – perfect weather to enjoy a plod along the riverbanks (and take some pictures of the awesome artwork).


It’s also perfect weather for a post-work beer – If I was working I’d definitely have a beer on a deckchair afterwards.



There was also one which I felt perfectly describes me:

Well, me after a few glasses of Merlot and a packet of Starburst, anyway.

If nothing else, the Viennese sky at sunset is always a delight.


Having successfully completed a proper run with no major mishaps (aside from two or three bicycles swerving to avoid me as I ground to a halt to take some snaps), I’ve decided I might try my best to make it a regular thing. There’s definitely something exhilarating about finishing a jog. People have said that to me before and I’ve always just laughed politely, but now I think I understand what they mean, though it definitely helps when there’s so much art to distract me from the crampy foot and earphones constantly falling out my ears and wrapping round my thighs.

Well, I bid you a good eve. I’m off to dust my bedroom from top to bottom – my best childhood friend Katie arrives tomorrow for a week of mischief, and I can’t have her greeted by multiple painty-water-jars and stacks of newly redundant woollen jumpers.

So, until next time,


K. x