Got up early, maybe 6:30am. I was first one up and amazed I got six hours uninterrupted sleep. There was one snorer, but earplugs worked. Did my best not to disturb others. Took a laxative before breakfast-- dangerous decision! Had large breakfast then took a crap-- not as much as I had hoped! Needed to do even more laundry-- brought some reading material this time. I figured out how to change the clock and the alarm feature on the cell phone.
It got to be 9:15am and only then I remembered that they insist that everybody be out of their rooms by 9:30am. The hostel closes then until 3:00pm! Ripped the clothes out of dryer (still damp) and ran up to my room to get the stuff I needed for the day. Hung up damp clothes in my locker as best I could. Finnish gent was there too, getting ready to leave. He seemed quite unflappable. We left together, but I had to part company because I needed to get some stuff at the nearby market. He said he had been to Los Angeles before and today would be taking in a concert that night.
Took the “U” to downtown Vienna and began going around the ring clockwise. It was cloudy and sprinkling off and on all day. Came upon the famous Staatoper, where seemingly every other tourist also wanted to take the tour of the opera house at 10:30am. Waited in line-- what a zoo! Gave up after 10 minutes-- what a hopeless mess. Kept on going around or just inside the ring. Went in the Schmetterling Haus, a greenhouse museum of butterflies and various other jungle type oddities, apparently started under one of the emperors. It was hot and humid-- I was dying of the heat!
Got about halfway around the “ring” and then tried another approach, since it was sprinkling. Since I had another 24 hour commuter train pass, I tried various lines of the “U” and just got off more or less randomly and checked out the neighborhoods. Stopped at Gasometer just because of the name. Started to go to Simmering at end of one line, but did not want to go off the map I had, so got off earlier.
Stopped for a beer at a cheap outdoor "bufé" and saw an elderly, elegant looking gent eating a sausage combo there. He was accompanied by a younger lady, possibly his daughter, who was also enjoying the food. Decided to ask her what they were having, because I figured they wouldn't be eating crap. Elderly gent answered in excellent English and seemed quite pleased to explain what he was having and the subtle differences among various sausages. Ordered what he was having and it was great-- so great that it ruined my appetite for dinner-- but saved me some money!
Guess the laxative I took before breakfast finally kicked in late in the afternoon and I needed to find the dreaded public sitdown toilet, hopefully a clean one. Fortunately, I found myself at a subway station near the Staatsoper and the tourist attraction, "Opera Toilet". 60 cents euro got me into a meticulously maintained "WC" which had opera music wafting through the air while I "did my business".
Eventually got back to hostel, offered my Canadian friend a warm beer from two I bought at a market. He declined, offered me some wine and we chatted a bit about travel conditions, but mostly about baseball. Had my Angels shirt on. Being from just north of Toronto, he was a Blue Jays fan. I made some disparaging remarks about the newly dismissed Angel, Shea Hillenbrand (who was with Toronto last year) and the Blue Jays manager. Being Canadian, he refused to take the bait and we had a calm conversation.
I went into the lounge to work on the second beer. An Irishman from Belfast (Patrick) and Englishman from London (Lloyd) both about 20, were there and started a conversation with me. They were very gregarious, helped by the fact that they were drinking vodka mixed with Coca-Cola. They were playing cards and insisted they needed a third person to play "Shitface Poker". I said that I knew nothing about cards and would be absolutely lousy, but they insisted.
Bumbled my way through two hands, requiring a great deal of help but giving them a good time by providing a foil for the good-natured rivalry between the two of them. I could understand Patrick quite easily, but Lloyd spoke Cockney, I guess, and was very hard to understand.
I think they were mostly happy to speak to another English speaker. Told them about the Canadian and the Finn. I should say it was also true that many of the people at the hostel spoke English pretty well as their second language, but it wasn’t the same. Enjoyed my time with Patrick and Lloyd but excused myself to get ready for the next day.
--END 4 JULY--
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