A week and a half in Austria on holiday, and it’s taken me this long to get round to sharing my meditations on cows with you? What’s wrong with this picture?
We’re staying at a Hütte (cabin) behind a dairy farm about half an hour south of Kitzbühel, and I assure you:
I prefer the cows here to the people.
Nothing against Austrians, though. They’re a curious but sturdy folk.
Their cows, on the other hand, have a certain Austrian way of looking at the world. We can all learn something from our Austrian bovine brethren. Or sisters, I suppose would be more appropriate.
What is Austria, anyway? A landlocked nation that at one point was the centre of European politics, and as a result those of the Western world. Go to Vienna and you’ll see remnants of when Austria was in charge of everything hereabouts.
They’ve been making Blutwurst and Leberwurst for centuries, and the cows have patiently watched as the herd has been culled and some of them got to live to see a new day. As it were.
When I sit in a café in Salzburg or Innsbruck, I remind myself that those Austrians away from the political halls of power are knowledgable about the rest of the world and not all that bothered by it.
That sort of stoicism is one of the many reasons I love reading Austrian philosophers or eating Austrian cheese. It’s a nice life here. They’re okay and the rest of us would be even more okay if we could sit back and let all of this happen without feeling like we need to have any influence whatsoever.
That’s my mediation on this curious country and its cows. If you’re so inclined, leave your musings in the comments. Otherwise, I won’t even know who was here.
Tell me an Austrian tale, won’t you?