Auf Wiedersehen, Graz & Oesterreich!

As you have figured out by now, by my absence of posting or from seeing me back home, our 3 months in Austria is over - we came back stateside at the end of February.  I had a few more posts I wanted to write - like about Doener Kebap, which is this amazing sandwich that's like the Turkish version of a gyro.  (This photo hardly does it justice, but it's the best I have.  You can browse images from a google search for better photos.)

It's in a pillowy, pita-like bread that is hot and often fresh from the oven, with mouthwatering meat that they shave off a twirling cone of layered bits of meat that continues to roast (and you really want to go to a shop that has real, unprocessed meat, versus the cone of pressed meat that I think we often identify with gyros), and then the fresh veggies - tomato, onion, lettuce, sometimes cucumber or purple cabbage.  You can get it scharf (spicy) or mild (mild), or a little of both - the mild gets you an amazing minty, garlic-y yogurt sauce, and the spicy adds a little red chili paste.  So amazingly delicious!  I think there is really a market for Doener Kebap here in CA.  This sandwhich version of Doener actually originated in Berlin in the 90s, and only over the past 5 years have Kebap stands proliferated in Graz, where they are very popular.

I have to show 1 more food photo - this is a really great example of the richness of a lot of the traditional Austrian dishes.  This is called Geschnetzeltes mit Schwammerln und Kräuterspätzle, or "cut meat with mushrooms and herb Spaetzle", but a better translation is, pork in an amazing creamy, wine-y sauce, and yes that's bacon, next to a sprinkling of fried onions... The bowl adjacent is Spätzle, which is one of my favorite things, it's a kind of akin to pasta with a more satisfying texture - the egg-and-flour-based dough is grated into boiling water, and here it's also been pan fried with herbs (Kräter).  (Käsespätzle is spätzle baked with cheese - like European mac and cheese; talk about amaaaazing comfort food) 

And related, unfortunately, to culinary experiences, I was also going to post about the crazy amount of smoking we encountered.  It seems like on the street, as many people are smoking as not.  Most restaurants still have smoking, although not all, and *some* have good nonsmoking sections that are actually separate enough not to be smoky.  A couple of times we had our own private dining experience when we were the only people in the non-smoking room.  But public transportation and shops at least are smoke-free, and the hotels we stayed in when we traveled were on the whole not smoky.  The (non)smoking thing is something you realize you take for granted here in CA, and most places in the US now (and increasingly in Europe) where there are restrictions.  It was pretty depressing to see so many people smoking, especially really young people.

And I also had a post in mind about our governor, Arnold, (I hope you read that in his Austrian accent!) who hails from a small village just outside of Graz.  We learned about this from a lot of different people, who upon finding out we were from CA asked if we had visited Thal (pronounced 'tall') yet.  Apparently there is a museum there.  And sometimes we'd also get the story about the controversy over the eponymous sports stadium in Graz - when people heard about Schwarzenegger's stance on the death penalty in CA (the 2005 execution), which ran counter to Austrian values (the death penalty was outlawed there in 1950), they protested and were debating renaming Arnold Schwarzenegger Stadium. Arnold asked to have his name removed, and it's now called UPC-Arena, after a telecom company, I believe.  I tried to impress (or amuse, for the non-Austrians), with my AS claim-to-fame of having his signature on my UC PhD diploma.

Which reminds me of one more comment, the low-key rivalry between Austria and Germany.  I say low-key because it has an ostensible all-in-fun kind of feel, but I think the undercurrent is a long and somewhat significant tradition.  I also am pretty sure that it's more acute on the Austrian side than the German side.  This Facebook page I ran across, I bet AUSTRIA can reach 1 million fans before GERMANY, and the accompanying I bet GERMANY can reach 1 million fans before AUSTRIA, is a really amusing example.  (If you're not on Facebook, what this is about is designating yourself a 'fan' of particular FB pages, which people set up for organizations, ideas, themes, etc).  These particular pages are really funny in and of themselves, but what says it all is that the Austrian page has 154,218 fans as of right now, and the German page has 23,054.

Well, I think I'll have to wrap it up there.  Thanks to all of you who followed my blog - the consensus is that you all really liked it, which I am so glad about! :-)  It was a lot of fun for me to do, and I hope to continue something here now that our 3 months of life abroad is over.  Our next big adventure is the garden/yard transformation, which will happen over the next few months, so I think that will be plenty of blog-worthy adventure to continue with...

Bis bald!

Skiing!

We finally made it to the slopes.  This has been a matter of social pressure as much as personal enjoyment.  'Why would you go to Austria in the winter?' is a question we've gotten from all sides (well, 2 continents).  'Oh, it must be the skiing' is all anyone can think of.  Indeed, even our travel books talk about attractions only from April through October, and there are some things that aren't even open from November through March.  But one thing is for sure during these months: great snow on the mountains.

We went on a trip organized by a sporting goods store affiliated with a giant department store.  Each Saturday and Sunday, they offer a bus ride and lift ticket to 3 different ski resorts.  The bus leaves Graz at 7 or 7:30 am (painfully early for those of us who stay up really late communicating to California), and leaves the ski place at 4:30 in the afternoon.  The cost of the trip is exceedingly reasonable - lift ticket plus maybe about 10 Euros for the bus (clearly they get a discount on the lift tickets).  It's really convenient if you don't have a car, and if you don't even know where to start in choosing a place to ski.

Our destination was Riesneralm, a small mountain, relatively speaking, about 2 hours west of Graz. There are just 2 chair lifts, one that goes most of the way up the mountain, and the second that goes the rest of the way to the very top, at 1800 meters.  The chairlifts are those that go slow to get on and off, but in between are pretty fast.  There is also a plexiglass wind/snow shield that makes the ride very comfortable.  The slogan of this mountain is 'less time on the lift, more time on the slopes'.  Runs/trails are called 'Pistes'.  The powder was perfect - in fact, it was snowing lightly on and off all day.  And there was no wind to speak of, which really made things pleasant; I was worried about getting cold fingers and toes, but I stayed more than warm enough.  Another comfort factor: the mountain wasn't very crowded.  No line to get on the lift, not many people to worry about on the slopes.  Final comfort factor, which I just think is so fantastic - ski huts (i.e. restaurants) everywhere - one at the top of the first lift, one at the top of the second, and at least 4 at the bottom.  And the funny thing is, that was all that was there.

We drove up this long, steep winding valley, through a couple of villages, and then the ski place itself (it's not a 'resort' so I don't know what else to call it!) is just the 4 restaurants (2 of which are Guesthouses, and are like large houses), the ski rental and ticket booth buildings, and the lift.  And a big open space for a parking lot.  That's it!  I don't know what else I was expecting but it seemed like something was missing.  I guess everywhere I've been skiing, which is all in the US, has a lot more infrastructure, is a lot more resort-y.  Here, it was more like, just show up and ski!  Another thing that was strange was that from the bottom you couldn't see the slope or the skiers.  The lift went up and disappeared over a mass of forest, and coming over a small hill to the far side skiers would appear - apparently all the runs led to that segment to get back to the lift.

There were maybe about 10 buses in the parking lot - clearly these bus trips are the way to go skiing.  The buses have a box attached to the back for holding skis.

This was T's first real skiing experience (we can hear your shocked gasps - Berlin is flat, okay?), but second time skiing (ask T if you want that story), and I designated myself his ski instructor.  We had the idea of ski school in the back of our minds, but it turns out that ski school is closed on Saturdays at Riesneralm.  Strange!  So, T was stuck with me. :-) We spent the morning at the base of the mountain near the lift, getting comfortable with the feel of the snow and the snowplow/wedge technique of maintaining control and stopping.  After lunch, which was a super yummy Kaese Spaetzle (German mac n' cheese with crispy onions on top), salad, and Gulasch Suppe, we got the crazy idea of taking the lift to the top of the mountain.  I assured T that if he were in ski school he would be starting at the top of the mountain first thing. 

So we made it on, up, and off the lift with success (the tickets, by the way, are cards you keep in your pocket, and you go through a turnstyle with a sensor that senses the ticket and lets you through).  After a moment of loss of control that left T in a precarious and more than slightly dangerous position, we found the blue trail and commenced.  We had 4 hours to make it down before the bus left, and at first it seemed we might need all that time.  At least.  But before long, actually really quickly, T got the hang of it, and I was relieved when first a smile, and then "this is fun!" won the day, and we cruised down the 7 km Piste.

It was a narrow, winding run with a gentle slope, switchbacking across the mountain, with spectacular views of the valley below and mountains in the distance.  At this point it had stopped snowing, and big masses of foggy clouds were hovering around the valley making for some really dramatic landscape.  I don't think the photos here nearly do it justice, but click on them for the larger view. 

We got back down to the bottom in 2 or 2 1/2 hours, legs aching.  I couldn't believe how long the run was, it kept going and going - 7 km is really long!  Since we were both pretty exhausted and there wasn't much time left, we turned in our skis and enjoyed apres ski in one of the restaurants with a view onto part of the slope.  Nothing like a big glass of apricot juice with sparkling water, or a big glass of beer, after skiing one run.

So, all in all a wonderful ski day!

Food chronicles: Currywurst

Heading back to Berlin for today's culinary adventure: currywurst.  It's true, it looks even less attractive than the Wiener schnitzel did in my last food post.  But this is really a popular thing, almost a cult phenomenon, with a Deutsches Currywurst Museum in Berlin, and a novel, movie, and song about currywurst.

This photo is actually a variation, curry buletten (pronounced boo-LET-un), because T doesn't really like currywurst.  Buletten are like meatballs, but slightly flattened, almost like small, really thick burgers.  But it's practically the same thing, just different meat underneath, so I'm going to focus on the more popular variety.

So what is it?  Well, 'wurst' is sausage, so it's sausage cut into slices and topped with curry powder and ketchup-like spiced sauce.  That's it?  That's it.  So simple!  With a little tiny plastic fork stuck in on top.  Served with fries, which are commonly eaten with mayo as well as ketchup.  There are currywurst stands all over the city - small snack shops (called Imbiss) or even trailers with a counter, maybe a standing table or two, and you buy your currywurst and stand at the counter and eat it.  This was a staple of T's youth (though of course he opted for buletten, not the wurst).  For me... I can't say it holds the same appeal.  T does make really good buletten himself though (once when we had friends over for dinner this one person amazed us by packing away an unbelievable number of buletten.  Which we didn't realize until dinner was over and we whispered to each other, 'where are our leftovers?'  Alas.  Or rather, good thing we made plenty!). 

I really enjoyed this video from the Currywurst Museum (below).  You don't need to understand the German to get a sense of the atmosphere here...!  11 Euro admission is a little steep, though.  That's like 5 currywursts (maybe 3 if you include fries).

The Ball der Technik 2010

It's Ball season in Austria!  The winter doldrums between the Christmas holidays and Carnival/Mardi Gras are enlivened by balls, and on Friday, Jan 29th TU Graz (the Technical University) held its big, annual Ball der Technik.  There's nothing geeky about it, except for the technical theme (this year it was electricity and Tesla) and a small room with exhibits - info on Tesla projected on the walls and some historic-looking electrical contraptions, including some interactive thing with switches and a voltage meter (that's all I can say - my German language skills do not extend to electrical engineering vocabulary).  Ok, so maybe that is pretty geeky for a dance...

The ball was just grand.  The Grazer Congress is a beautiful cream-and-gilt maze of elegant building with a sweeping grand staircase and a magnificent ballroom.  A mass of people, of all ages, dressed to the nines, made for great eye candy - sparkling, colorful, long formal gowns in every color; suits and tuxedoes with medals and a few kingly-looking necklaces like the Chancellor wears at graduation.

So what did I wear?  I wore a long, dark red velvet, sleeveless dress, with elbow-length white gloves (is that called 'opera length'? I'm not sure), a white silk flower, and pearls.  (Special acknowledgment goes out to my sister for the dress and my Mom for sending it and all the acoutrements!). I've never worn long gloves outside of Halloween costumes, so I was pretty excited about this!

The ball opened in the main ballroom, orchestra playing, a dancing cohort of young women and men framing the entrance of the VIPs.  Not sure how you get to be a VIP... Then a speech by some university head honcho, and a choreographed program, ending with a waltz (Viennese, of course) to which everyone was invited to join in.  After that, the ball was officially open! I took a sampling of video from the opening, from the gallery above:



There were 3 dance floors and a disco. The main ballroom had the orchestra, alternating with a 3-person cover band that did a range of American music quite well, from oldies to the 80s.  We even did the twist.  Here is a sampling of the waltzing with the orchestra:


We didn't have the courage to try it - you have to spin while also going around the dance floor, and it's easy to see how you could get run over if you don't know what you're doing.  In the first part of the video you can catch a glimpse of a woman in a dirndl, traditional Austrian dress.  Not so many of these at the ball, but we did see a couple.

The second largest dance floor, with blueish lighting and a more modern feel, was a Cuban band, playing excellent salsa and cha cha music.  The floor during the cha cha (called cha cha cha here) got to be quite dangerous, as men flung their partners around with wild abandon - T and I quickly tried to escape, but not before we each had a heel crush our toe.  The third dance floor was smaller, featuring swing music, and set amidst many of the tables at a juncture in the long, wide corridor that connected the entrance part of the building to the Tesla room and the Cuban band room. 

So the tables - for an additional 5 Euro you got a seat at an assigned table.  There were a handful of rooms dedicated to tables, and then several tables along this hall I just mentioned.  Ours was there, so we had nice views of people walking by, the swing dance floor, and the music.  There was a small menu of expensive food, and then little snack stands for open-faced sandwiches, regular sandwiches, and soft pretzels.  I was hungry and T asked if I wanted a sandwich, and I replied, 'I didn't come to a ball to eat a sandwich!'  Picture me in my long white gloves eating a sandwich.  There were also, of course, lots of beverages, including some excellent Styrian red wine.  I didn't realize before coming to Graz that there was so much wine produced in Austria. 

At 1 am, the Quadrille!  Another ball tradition, this is similar to a square dance or contra dance, but way more genteel.  This is the kind of thing you see in the movie adaptations of Jane Austen novels - 2 lines of people, going to and fro with a lot of bowing/curtseying, turning and changing places. (This youTube video gives you a really good impression of how this goes - ours looked very similar) The traditional one for Austrian balls is the Fledermaus Quadrille, and it's supposed to be at midnight but ours was 1 am.  We filled the ballroom with 3 pairs of lines.  T and I partnered with a colleague from TU and his girlfriend, who had been at a ball in Vienna the night before (and who said that that Quadrille was chaos, because the caller didn't explain the steps at all).  The woman who supervised the opening dance program (who you can see in the first video standing at the lower left with a really awesome pastel blue and yellow/gold dress) explained each figure, and walked us through each.  Then we practiced with music.  I think there were 4 different figures.  Then we did them all together, a few times, each time a bit faster.  It worked pretty well!  At the end, there was something about galloping down the line, then reversing direction, (which you can see people doing prematurely in the video linked above, from a different ball) but this quickly devolved into chaos, so the woman in pastel shouted for everyone to dance around the floor counterclockwise, and we all surged in a huge mass until the music stopped.  Lots of fun!

Food chronicles: Wiener Schnitzel - not a hot dog!

At very nearly every meal with friends, it's pretty funny how the comparison of regional food names never fails to come up.  In larger groups there are more regions of Austria and Germany represented, and this conversation goes on longer.  But I top them all when I say that Wiener Schnitzel in the US is a hot dog.

Thanks to the fast food chain, millions of people, myself included, grow up thinking that a Wiener Schnitzel is a hot dog.  Nobody over here can believe this.  Wiener (Viennese) Schnitzel is actually a boneless cutlet, usually veal but it can be chicken or turkey, breaded and fried.

These things are large; they are pounded flat so they spread out a bit, but sometimes you can't see the plate below your Schnitzel. Squeeze lemon over it and dig in...

This photo is actually of a schnitzel I had in Wien (Vienna) on a different trip.  Impressive, yet not super appealing, right?  It's tastier than it looks, but it is pretty rich.  That's potato salad in the bowl on the side - mmm, tangy.

Sightseeing in Graz: Schlossberg (castle mountain)

I realize that I've been posting about all the other places besides Graz that we've seen, but haven't really put up anything yet on the major sights of Graz. Tsk tsk!

Graz is the second largest city in Austria, but you wouldn't think that from touring the center of town, the Innere Stadt ('inner city') or Altstadt ('old town'), which is very walkable and very charming.  (More on the street view in a different post.)

The major landmark is the Schlossberg ('Schloss' means castle and 'berg' means mountain), a giant rock in the center of the city with a medieval fortress and the famous clock tower on the top.  In the photo to the left, you can see the 260 stairs going up the side - when it's not snowy you can hike up the stairs, otherwise there is an elevator that goes up through the rock, and a funicular that can take you directly to the top.  On the back side of the Berg, there are pathways that switchback through the forest that aren't quite as steep.  These stairs were built/carved by Russian prisoners ('and Austrian pioneers' the sign said, but I'm not sure what that means) from 1914-1918.

Going up the stairs actually feels like going up an elevator, because you rise above the rooftops so quickly.  Not only the climbing up the steps but also the view is just breathtaking.  This next photo is looking down on the place where the first photo was taken.  Notice the long yellow building in both photos, and from the view above you can barely make out the sculpture/fountain with the birds that is in the forefront of the first photo. 

The rooftops of Graz!  Funnily enough, I took the exact same photo last weekend as I did in December!  This is looking southeast.  The photo with snow is the more recent.  (Notice the grey sky and lack of sun)

More views from the clock tower....

The Rathaus, City Hall, in the Hauptplatz, which is the main square.

Graz is a UNSECSO World Heritage Site and was the Cultural Capital of Europe in 2003, recognized primarily for its architecture - a blend of styles from different eras since the middle ages and from the various regions for which Graz is a crossroads: Germanic, Balkan, Mediterranean.


Like in Salzburg, the fortress on the mountain was a pretty important deal; this one started around the 9th century.  Unlike Salzburg, the Graz Schlossberg is not as well preserved as a castle.  Walking around the top there are some towers and remains of structures, but it has largely been turned into a beautiful park.  Apparently, after Napoleon gained control of it (only after the armistice was signed - the fortress withstood the siege) he demolished a lot of it.  And the fortifications built inside the top of the rock aren't open for touring.  But there is still plenty to convey a sense of wonder at the history of the Schlossberg and the feats of engineering, such as the well that was drilled through the entire mountain of rock in 1554.  (Again, can you even imagine?!)

While not so well preserved as a castle, it is a part of modern Graz life - there is a high-end restaurant on top near the clock tower, with a large deck for summer dining with amazing views.  There are a couple of amphitheaters for performances - one sunk into the top of the mountain, the cellar of the original fortress, which is roofless in summer, and one within the mountain at the base.  A whole system of tunnels and shelter space was carved into the mountain during WWII, now re-purposed for cultural activities.

A couple more photographs from the top - the 'Friendly Alien' is the Kunsthaus, or art museum, built in 2003 when Graz was the Cultural Capital of Europe.

And the Mur River, which runs through Graz.  The Kunsthaus is right across the river from the Schlossberg, just out of view in this photo, and the Altstadt (Old Town) is situated right next to the river.  This photo is looking south.

The hills are alive - part 2 (Salzburg!)

 

Villa Trapp!!  We made it to Salzburg, an amazingly beautiful city.  After having read Maria von Trapp's memoir (see 'The hills are alive'... post from last month), it was a particular treat to see the von Trapp family house.  It's actually an Inn now!  You can stay there and really indulge your Sound of Music fantasies.  I have heard lots of good things about the Sound of Music tour, but unfortunately (or fortunately if you are T) we didn't have a chance to do that.

We did, however have a chance to take photos.  Lots and lots of photos.  I couldn't stop taking pictures of Salzburg.  So beautiful and visually stimulating.  But maybe also it was seeing so much sun, for the first time really in weeks.  It was a beautiful day.

 How many spires can you count in this photo?  I think that's part of what was so visually interesting - so many spires, in such a small area.  And then a couple of really stunning places - the Dom, and the Berg.

This is looking straight up into the dome that you see in the middle photo. 

This cathedral must have recently been renovated/cleaned - the outside is so white, and inside the colors are so vibrant.  The first cathedral here was in 774.  The dome was destroyed by bombs in 1944, and didn't re-open until 1958.

The other dominating architectural feature of Salzburg is the fortress, the Festung Hohensalzburg, rising out of the rock in the center of the city.

And the view from another side:

Thrilling! This is the real deal - since 1077, whenever there was a siege (which wasn't often, though, apparently) the town would hunker down (well, up) within the fortress walls.  There was a well, drilled down through the entire mountain (can you even imagine starting to dig a well from the top of the highest mountain around?!). 

You can take a funicular to the top, or you can walk up.  We had just finished lunch at Demel (with cake of course - oh, yeah!), and it was crazy cold, so we thought it best to walk.

 So you climb the stairs and the ramp along the rampart walls, up and up and up, then through several gates...

   
 

 

and finally, you get inside the fortress on top, and you find... Gluhwein! 

It's quite a large mountain top, and you could really have a small village up here.  And who knows what's built into the mountain, too (I mean, if they could do a well...?).
Of course,  the views from up there are stunning, stunning.

The Dom (cathedral)

The Salzach River

This fortress was just so impressive.  I'm finding it hard to describe, but the way it just rises out of the rock so gracefully on one side, and then looms long and massive from the other side... and then all the details for optimizing defense - the way the massive doors closed, the towers with slits for arrow-shooting, the sheer walls, the series of gates.  Really, really remarkable.  This is apparently one of the best-preserved castles in Europe, and the largest, and really, you feel like you can almost, almost catch a trace of medieval times.  Thrilling, is the best word I can use to describe it.  Until you can visit it in person (unless you already have!), you can see more photos, video and history here.

As a coda I will leave you with a photo of Mozart's birthplace. Our hotel was around the corner from where Mozart lived, but this is where he was born.  I'm sure when he was there the street wasn't lined with designer chain stores, souvenir shops, and throngs of tourists, nor was the building emblazoned with 'Mozarts Geburtshaus' (but who knows, really).

  Ok, since that's a little anticlimactic after the fortress, how about a photo of the most adorable horses ever.  There are plenty of horse-drawn carriages to clop around the old city in, drawn by small and shaggy adorable horses (ponies?), plus there are those with the thankless job of following them on a cycle equipped with a bucket (second photo).  It takes some of the charm and romance out of the scene, yet preserves the charm for the rest of us on foot, too busy looking up and taking photos to watch where we are stepping...

 

And from behind the painting, two old maps! A real-life mystery

An uncle over 100 years old dies in Marseilles, leaving an extensive art collection.  A niece takes one of the paintings, of a body of water and a figure of a lion, painted in 1791, out of its frame to clean it, only to discover two fragments of maps hidden between the canvas and the frame backing!

"And when I saw the maps, I thought of you," she said, taking a roll of cardboard out of her bag -  the maps!

No, it's not a Nancy Drew.  Nor is it exactly like Agatha Christie's Tommy and Tuppence BBC series episode 1, where the mystery, as well as the fate of Britain, revolves around a secret treaty concealed behind a painting.

But nonetheless, a mystery!  What were these maps?  What were they doing behind the painting?

Here is the first.  (click on the image to see the full-size version). Clearly French.  But Hudson Bay, Treaty of Utrecht, Lac Nepigon?  And the big Lac, whose name is sliced through at the bottom...?  To the Internet! 

In the Treaty of Utrecht, if we all think hard back to 10th grade European history (and consult Wikipedia) we remember that France ceded the Hudson Bay Company's territories to Britain in 1713.  So the yellow and green line, which looks colored by hand (it actually looks slightly like crayon, and faded in places) is marking that boundary, and, knowing that Hudson Bay is in Canada, this appears to be a map of a part of present-day Canada.

 

So, one terminus post quem (an archaeology term!) - the map is later than 1713.

A terminus ante quem is Lac Nepigon - Wikipedia tells us that by 1883, the name of the lake appeared on maps as 'Nipigon'.  That's still a pretty big time range, though, 1713 to 1883.  Also, now we know that this lake puts us looking at part of present-day Ontario, with Lake Superior being the large lake at the bottom of the map.

Wonderfully, and pretty amazingly, there are digital libraries of old maps with easily-google-able contents.  We were able to determine that this map looked nearly exactly like a very famous 1755 map by John Mitchell, except for the fact that this one was in French.  A little more googling determined that this map is in fact, the French copy of the Mitchell map made by George Louis Le Rouge in 1756.  View the complete map, from a Library of Congress photo.  There's also some nice metadata about it in the David Rumsey Map Collection.  The full title of the map is:

Amerique Septentrionale avec les Routes, Distances en miles, Limites et Establissements Francois et Anglais. Par le Docteur Mitchel, Traduit de l'Anglois. A Paris, Par le Rouge Ingr. Geographe du Roy rue des Grands Augustins 1756.  

1756!  It is pretty much an exact tracing ('re-engraving') of Mitchell's map, with French text instead of English, and some additional annotations, such as in this photo (click for a full-size view).

Holding it up to the light and photographed from behind, you can see the watermark on the paper.  I can't really make it out, and as such we haven't been able to investigate this further.  It may even be only a part of the whole watermark, since this is only a part of the map.  But, the symbol in it may help in identification, and this would really help in identifying the origins of this specific map. (Anyone want to do a little sleuthing?)

Pretty exciting, huh?!  What's really interesting is to compare this to the present day maps of the same area (like google maps).  From some browsing/digging it appears that maps like this one were based on earlier maps and desccriptions of the area by explorers or trappers (hence some of the invented islands in Lake Superior?).  If I have time some day I might look further into this, but not now when we have a second map to explore.

Ok, on to the next map!

It was a good thing we had started with the Le Rouge map, because the second map was considerably more challenging to find. 

(click on the map to enlarge it)

New York.  And Boston in an inset.  New Hampshire, the Connecticut River.  Mostly in English, but some French notes.

But hey, wait a sec, since when did New Hampshire border New York?

Since before the American Revolution, as it happens.  Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys (militia) established the Vermont Republic in 1777.  (Thank you again, Wikipedia.)
Hey, hey, a terminus ante quem.  Wow - before 1777!

A bit of Googling later, and thanks to David Rumsey and his very impressive Map Collection (and even more impressive digital library with hi res scans), we discovered that the English, original version of this map is, "The Provinces of Massachusetts Bay and New Hampshire. (Northern section)" by Thomas Jefferys, 1776.  View the complete map here.

Long title: "The American Atlas: Or, A Geographical Description Of The Whole Continent Of America ... Engraved On Forty-Eight Copper Plates, By The Late Mr. Thomas Jefferys, Geographer to the King, and Others. London, Printed and Sold by R. Sayer and J. Bennett, Map and Print Sellers, No. 53, Fleet-Street. MDCCLXXVI."

Jefferys was Geographer to His Royal highness the Prince of Wales.  According to David Rumsey's site, this map was part of "one of the most important atlases of the American Revolutionary War period."

However, I have not yet been able to track down what this French version is.  The French mapmaker made the changes of translating the brief history of Boston fires and wards into French, and has added a note under the "Note" about the Connecticut River, paraphrasing "La Riviere de Conecticut fait Limite entre New-York et New-Hampshire".  Not sure why he (assuming a 'he') misspelled CT.

So which map, exactly, this is, remains a mystery, if anyone feels like investigating!

To sum up, what do we know - we have a 1756 and a 1776 map behind this 1791 painting.  Concealed, or used as framing material?  The working hypothesis we have is that whoever framed the painting recycled these old, outdated maps as good framing/backing material.  The least exciting, least imaginative possibility.  More intriguing would be if these particular fragments related to the painting in some way, or meant something to someone besides scrap paper.  What would help is to know something more about 18th century map publishing.  These were both very important maps, according to people in the know, so presumably they would have been the popular maps of the day?  Did lots of ordinary people have maps?  Did map publishers sell old, obsolete stock to framers in early recycling schemes? Did painters frame their own paintings?

In any case, we think they are pretty darn cool!  And we certainly enjoyed the treasure hunt of figuring out what these maps are, and learning some historical geography.

Food chronicles: Krapfen

I have in mind the glimmerings of a series about Austrian food.  Let's start with Krapfen!

Look familiar?  A jelly doughnut!  Yum!  But with apricot jam inside.  Apricot is 'Marille' (pronounced 'marilla').  Krapfen are found all over the place - in the nearest grocery store to us, Billa, they're the first thing you see when you walk in, and typically if it's toward the end of the day, only the 6-packs are left, if even those.  The dough is not overly sweet, a little bit dense, and the apricot has a little bit of a floral tinge, which can verge on perfumey and be a little startling.  Also, the jam can be  elusive, in a large glob at one edge.  You have to do some planning to balance out the filling with the dough, so that you don't end up with a mouthful of just jam at the end.

You can see how that's the case with the one in this photo.  This was maybe our second day in Graz.  You understand I waste no time in diving into food culture, especially where there are sweets involved! You'll notice in the photo that this is a 3-pack.  I was late to the store, and there were no more singles left.  Of course, you can get them singly at a bakery, of which there are tons around the city.  The best best Krapfen I have had yet was at breakfast at the famous Cafe Tomaselli (since 1705) in Salzburg.

Now here's the slightly complicated (and amusing) part about food names when you start to move around.  You know what a jelly doughnut is called in Germany, right, after Pres. Kennedy called himself one in a speech in Berlin? ("Ich bin ein Berliner!") But in Berlin, a jelly doughnut is not called a Berliner, it's Pfannkuchen.  But Pfannkuchen, in the rest of Germany, means pancakes.  Confusing? Yes.

What's even more amusing to me is how at every meal we have had with friends, this whole what-is-this-food-called-where topic never fails to come up.  Everyone tends to be from somewhere different (mostly in Germany and Austria), and this regionality of names is so pervasive.  And while my language understanding is getting better and better, at the start of a new conversation topic I usually need some time to catch the drift.  Well, when I start recognizing various names for the same thing going around the table, I know it's the what-do-you-call-it-where-you're-from name game.

Candles burning on a tree

As I begin this post about Christmas, Weihnachten, I realize that, following the new year's post, this could be a series called 'Potentially Dangerous Cultural Traditions Involving Fire'.  In the US, like the fireworks thing, I believe it is illegal to burn real candles on your Christmas tree.  Not so in Europe.  And oh, there is nothing so beautiful as a tree lit with candles.  A fleeting moment you have to capture in your memory (cognitive and digital) for, once the candles burn down and out, that's it for tree illumination.

We had an incredibly beautiful tree in Berlin, bought & decorated Christmas Eve day as is the tradition in T's family.  The candles were lit and we sang to the tree... 
(as always, you can click on a photo to see it larger)

 

 

Interestingly, to the several people we talked to about this over holidays, Santa's reindeer are virtually unknown.  And more typically it is the Christkind, the Christ child, who brings & decorates the tree, and bring the presents, on Christmas Eve.  Or alternatively, Father Christmas or an angel of the Christ child brings the presents in person. (St. Nikolas comes on Dec. 6, and leaves sweets and other goodies in the shoes of good children.) Christmas itself is 3 days long - there is Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and then the day after Christmas, St. Stephen's Day (or, 'second Christmas' as I call it).  Because the holidays started on a Thursday this year, shops (including grocery stores!) were closed for 5 days in a row.  No last minute running out for whatever you forgot for the Christmas feast!