I arrived in my hotel room in Graz shortly before 7pm yesterday. It was neither too large nor too small. Just about right, with a comfortable bed, a half-inspiring view (80 per cent of it looked onto the architecturally uncompelling structure with a broad enough sliver opening out into the old city). It’s my third time here. I like that I am located so close to the heart of town, with the river Mur a two-minute stroll away. As I walked from the train station towards Lendplatz, where the hotel lies, I registered surprise at the sight of people walking mask-less in the streets. I was adamantly wearing the black FFP 2 mask I had had on since I caught the train from Bozen, crossing the border on foot at the Brenner, then catching the final connection at Innsbruck. Did Austrians think they were living in a post-Pandemic world? My partner had reminded me that the numbers were surging here once again, so I had to be careful at all moments. What was my purpose of travel? I accepted an invitation to ‘see’ an exhibition at a Graz-based gallery. 

South Tyrol has been in some form of lockdown since the first week of November. By February, the number of infections in Tramin had risen exponentially. Until a week after Easter we weren’t allowed to leave our municipality. As drastic as it all seemed, we knew that if we weren’t disciplined about our social interactions, there would be no relief from being a red or orange zone. After a lot of thinking and strategising, I decided, since the borders were now open, to make the journey. I was curious to see what Spring in Graz looked like, since I had only ever known the city in Autumn.