Some days I walk.

Not that that’s such a big deal or anything.  But I do find that parts of me here and there start to hurt just a tad after a while.  Better than when we first arrived here,  since I guess I had become accustomed to riding the bike in the Netherlands and walking any distance started out to be a bit of a challenge.

Like you care.

Oh and,  I guess I really didn’t have anything to say over the weekend?  Some sort of “weekend fog” that I slip into from time to time. 

Nothing happened.  

There,  that should do it.

 

I’m not sure I had a point I was going to make,  except that it was some sort of package pick-up day,  even though I hadn’t planned on it. 

There’s the usual jaunt down to the one bakery I like to frequent on Neubaugaße,  only with a slight detour over to the Post Office on Zieglergaße.  

And… I should have taken a picture! 

I’ve been to that post office many,  many times,  and this is the first time *ever* when there was absolutely no line up!   I was totally confused!   There were three “wickets” open, with a post office clerk standing there at each one. *gasp* I wasn’t quite sure which one to go.   I mean, do I go to the officious looking lady on the left who,  although she looks busy,  is really mostly concerned with cornering a couple wayward pens and tidying up her station?  Or do I go to the wee snarly piece of work on the right who wouldn’t give you the time of day, even if you were the last person on earth?  Or do I go to the fellow in the middle?   Turns out he had a head cold.  Gah! I hope I didn’t get any on me.

So fine,  I sent off a birthday card to a lady whom we’ve known for well,  a long time.  Along with an envelope to our “finance guy” with a document in there assigning each other as beneficiaries for some account or other.  We just sort of discovered this in with our ‘stuff’ a while back.  Probably worth the postage to have it on file.    I can only imagine the pile of stuff that has been collecting since way back in August when we were home last.  It’s been nine months.  There will be no gestational metaphors.

Meanwhile I knew there was another postage type of thing to be dealt with,  as there was a delivery note stuck to the outside of our post box downstairs.   Some place on Kaiserstraße.  96 to be exact.    That seemed odd.

I guess most anything we’ve had delivered up to this point has come through the mail,  even when I ordered those drives from Media Markt last year.  This was different.   The pick up location was a “Tabac”,   and there was something about “Loto” in the address.  So it took me a closer look to figure out that it was perhaps the package that Travelling Companion had ordered from England,  where she had done some on line shopping for material.   Like,  for sewing.

Oh yes,  it’s all about collecting the material.  Seems you can get stuff here in Europe that’s not available in the shops in Canada.  I wouldn’t know,  but that’s what the reports indicate from those who sew,  and are in the know.   So there you go.

Well,  it turns out that Kaiserstraße 96 is a bit of a hike.  The numbers start at Mariahilferstraße.  I should know that by now.  I don’t know what my problem is.

OK fine,  I just looked on the map and it’s only about a kilometre and a half.  It just seemed like a hike,  especially since half the buildings don’t have any stinkin’ numbers on them.  Why does it have to be such a mystery?   You should try doing it from inside a car.  In Brussels.   Talk about fun.

 

See,  at this point the numbers are getting higher, but I’m starting to get a little concerned. 

 

It just so happens that we are getting a little closer to the Gürtel.

It was no big deal though,  as it turned out that 96 was only a few metres farther.  Plus, it didn’t look like the “Sex Shop”  was occupied in any way shape or form.   I’d sooner go into the tobacco store to pick up my parcel,  if it’s all the same.

 

So apparently this guy has the franchise (or whatever it’s called) to accept deliveries from UPS or Fed-up or whomever.  I never knew.  I thought that everything went to the post office here in Wienerland.   Even though the package was addressed to T.C.,  and I thought I might have a hassle,  it wasn’t an issue.  You just need some sort of “Ausweis”,  and it doesn’t need to be a passport.   I have both an Austrian residence permit and an Austria drivers license,  each of which have a reasonable likeness of my ugly mug.  

If you take a close look at the front of this place,  you’ll see that he’s got a few things on the go.  It’s a package pick-up location,  you can order books (not sure how that works)  buy your loto tickets,  as well as of course your smokes,  newspapers and magazines.  Alrighty then!

 

 

Saw this fellow on the way back.

 

Just waiting.  Aren’t we all?

 

Then when I got back with the little package (it would have fit in the mailbox,  but that would have been too easy)  I see that there’s ANOTHER pick-up notice from the post office.  Damn!  Must have just missed him!

I had to come upstairs first,  since the coffee I had this morning was tired of hanging around,  but as soon as I could do it,  I went back down to try and track down the postman,  whose buggy was sitting unattended outside our front door. 

And yes,  I washed my hands.

So that was easy-peasy.  He was taking a little break in the Café Cosmopolitan,  and was very obliging.  Helps to speak the lingo too I find.   So that saved a trip back over to the post office. 

This second package is the result of being here in Europe so long that certain bank cards and such are starting to expire,  and have to be replaced.   Travelling Companion’s Scotiabank ATM card arrived at the house last week sometime,  and Daughter Number Two sent it by registered mail on May second.   Today is the seventh.  That’s not too shabby. 

 

I didn’t look at our bank account to see how much this modern marvel cost us to send,  since that would only spoil the fun.  I have a pretty good imagination though.

Sure is a far cry from the first time I came to Europe in 1978,  and had to bring “Traveller’s Cheques”.  Or maybe it’s “checks”.   Depends on where you buy them I suppose.  I don’t even know how we would manage if we didn’t have bank cards,  ATMs,  credit cards (used sparingly let’s hope) and well,  the Internet!    Really,  it all comes down to the Internet.  Boggles the mind.  I’m sure I could just go on and on.   But I’ve already done enough of that.

 

I certainly hope everyone had a fine weekend. 

Three days until company comes!

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

 

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