Tom’s room had a view on the Sigmundsplatz at the rear of the hotel: to the right was the “horse bath” fountain backed by a small rocky cliff, and in front was an ornate well. In the morning, they sold fruit and vegetables from pushcarts here, Tom remembered. Tom took a few minutes to breathe, to open his suitcase, and walk in socked feet on the immaculately polished pinewood floors of his room. The furnishings were predominantly Austrian green, the walls white, the windows double-glazed with deep embrasures. Ah, Austria! Now to go down and have a Doppelespresso at the Café Tomaselli just a
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