It’s the first full, dislocated day in Vienna.  I am standing in front of our apartment on Spittelauerplatz across from a small park with huge sycamore trees.  The building is vintage, a bit shabby, with a caged elevator to take us to number 8, an oversized apartment with high ceilings and large windows, loaded with Ikea furnishings.

It’s raining.

My laptop was stolen.

I’m cold.

I teach my first class tomorrow at ten a.m.  Did I tell you my laptop was stolen?  My laptop with my life on it.  I had it in my carry-on luggage.  It made its way across the country but in Dulles Airport, the Austrian Air ticket agent told me my bag was too large and she would have to check it into baggage.  Some time after that, it was stolen.  My laptop that is.

Also one black dress shoe is missing and one textbook.

The printer doesn’t work.

The tram no longer runs around The Ring.  We got lost.

People smoke in restaurants.  There is more graffiti.

On the other hand, I walked past the statue of Goethe, the opera, the Parliament, a dozen flower vendors, the Votiv Kirche and my favorite British interior design shop.  I ate  Semmeln for breakfast and Wienerschnitzel for dinner.  In Karlsplatz, you can go to a bathroom that plays waltzes all day long.  And, of course, I saw Mozart dressalikes selling concert tickets.

I’m in Vienna.

Now if I could only find someone with an iMac wearing one dress shoe.