I f*cking love Fucking, Austria


I f*cking love Fucking, Austria. Curse words obscured to protect those with delicate eyes.

Yes, that’s really the name of a town in Austria. It’s pronounced more like, “foo-king.”

Of the words I hate, “bucket list” is up there. It’s not the irregardless, jeggings or a vaca (the misspelled shorthand of vacation) sort of hate, but “bucket list” annoys me nonetheless. If I had one of those things, this would be on it. For sure. Pretty obvious why.

We stopped in Fucking, Austria on our way home from Salzburg—a totally juvenile detour just for my own amusement. Fucking’s about 45 minutes north of Salzburg, just over the Austria-Germany border. Like Salzburg, you can drive there without purchasing a vignette toll sticker (yea!).

There’s really nothing in Fucking, Austria except a few houses. Regardless, IMO, it’s worth a visit just to take a picture by the sign. Then there’s the added bonus of hearing your GPS drop an f-bomb. Mine can’t pronounce anything correctly, but it will say, “Arriving at Fucking,” clear as a bell.

There are parking spots by the sign, but why is there not a tourist shop? (Or did we just miss it?) The merchandising opportunities are endless; I’d buy a Fucking, Austria t-shirt. There is a beer, a helles, named for the town, but I have yet to find it anywhere for sale. It’s called Fucking Hell.

Suck it, Intercourse, Pennnsylvania. If there was a prize for best-named town or municipality, Fucking, Austria would win hands down. I’d give second and third place to Titz, Germany and Asse, Belgium, respectively. Know any other strange town names?

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