Tumbled,  not Stirred

I don’t know how double-oh-seven does it, really. Have you ever seen him look less than dapper? Less than exquisitely groomed? More to the point, have you any reason to believe he ever has to do laundry, especially while on assignment?

I’m no International Man of Mystery; i lack the animal magnetism of Connery, the suave self-assurance of Moore, and the sly roguish charm of Brosnan. Craig?

I’ve got nothing on that guy.

But I’ve got dirty laundry. What i mean is, there comes a time in every intrepid traveler’s odyssey when just buying another tshirt in a museum gift store won’t suffice. One must launder!

Fear not, the traveler has options.  One can just buy all new stuff. One can get the hotel to wash it (I did that once at a place in Sri Lanka. Cost me $82). Or you can find a laundromat near your hotel. 

I chose option (3) and it cost me €10. Ten euros. Thirteen, if you count the soft drinks I got from a vending machine. That and an extra hour to compensate for a dryer that didn’t, well…DRY. 

Not rapidly, at any rate. So, instead of the whole thing costing me €7, I ended up pumping €3 in the machine for three additional twenty minute cycles. But I had my secret weapon — a fully charged kindle, loaded with mysteries and stuff.

The entire enterprise should have been dead simple. I had my phone on airport mode to save money, so in my hotel room, I got walking directions on google maps and then took screenshots. 


I •ought• to have been there in twenty four minutes, except I got distracted by architecture (as I often do). For instance:


Or diverted by whimsical stuff:


Pretty sure my mom bought a few of those back in the 70’s when handheld dryers were all the rage. And by rage, I mean the noise of it drove our cat Sydney mad. He destroyed a couple, thinking they were attacking my mom whom he had sworn to Bastet he would protect. 

But I digress. Again. 

Eventually, I found the Waschsalon and set to washing my clothes. Should be straightforward, right? This is me, remember? I’ve been accused of making things complex in the name of a good story. To which I plead the fifth. 


Okay, here’s what I loved about this:

  1. All the washers and dryers are controlled from one place — no trying to get coins in each one. 
  2. The soap was free! They give it away!
  3. The glowing blue slot at the bottom makes change for a €5 or €10 note!

I also found this moderately helpful, once I found it. It cleared up some questions  for this tourist who doesn’t read German:


 No story would be complete without a grand finale. This is, after all, Vienna, Austria — a town renowned for opera. In this dramatic final scene, I managed to get lost on the way back to my hotel. 

It seems hard to believe, but there was no moon, and I was very busy composing this post in my mind. I clearly took a wrong turn and lost track of east, west, et cetera. Finally, I did that which bond would never, ever do. 

I asked someone for help.

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