Linz, the lady in the information centre had told me, was this year’s European Capital of Culture. They were very proud of this. Of what I wondered. She’d given me a brochure in English, but I was none the wiser as to what this apparently prestigious title actually meant. Apart, that is, from giving most of the taxis a new livery. Looked expensive.
I’d had a stab at making a list of successful Austrian bands. Seemed like a good place to start, but I just couldn’t get past Falco. Ordinarily I’d have gone for famous Austrians, but the Nazi gnome experience was still a very vivid memory. It would fade with time, especially in Austria. People here had been know to forget sizeable chunks of their lives. Usually 1939-1945. Time for a warming glass of Austrian wine. In the morning it was probably best to head along the Danube towards Vienna.
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