A Freudian Trip

The office / flat is on the second floor. Apartment 6 was his address for 47 years.

Although I am not a big student of Dr. Sigmund Freud, I AM aware of, and respect his place in history. He lived in the same flat in Vienna for 47 years. Only fleeing the Nazis in 1938 precipitated his move to London. I was reminded (on a recent episode of Amazing Race) that a museum was located where he earned his famous psycho-analysis fame. I decided to make a Freudian "Trip" to visit it.

The Schottentor U Bahn station was my "jumping off" point. From there, naturally, I got lost. I walked for about an hour, returning to my original point to try again. At this point the reader must realize that I uphold "Man-Law" and refuse to ask for directions. Instead, I look for "touristy" groups or that I assume should also be looking for these famous destinations. The one I fell in behind to day took me in the opposite direction. When I finally ascertained that they were headed in the direction of the Rathaus (Parliment building), I retreated and consulted a city map in the U Bahn station.

After about a 15 minute walk, I discovered the street on which the famous man lived and walked down a long street lined with academic book stores, outdoor cafes, and other shops. It was a glorious day and many people were also enjoying Sigmund Freud park, not far from his office / flat. The thing I noticed about this particular park was an abundance of bright red reclining lawn chairs. I later learned that the famous couch was covered with a reddish throw- type blanket and wondered if these chairs were in honor or reference to the famous piece of furniture.

I saw a small sign hanging horizontally that read "Freud". My powerful instincts for grasping the obvious told me that I was on the right track. I entered a quiet, cool, and darkened entry way and climbed up to the second floor. Apartment 6 was the famous address and I entered to a small welcome desk. The man explained that the self-guided tour was 7 euros and I could get the audio guide for 2 additional. Being a rich American, I took the audio player and commenced a tour that would take me through 3 small, cramped rooms.

The outer waiting room is as the Freud family hurriedly left it in 1938. There are pictures, certificates, and documents lining the walls. The furniture and knick-knacks are exactly as the film I later viewed captured them in the 1930s. One can view his hat, a satchel, and a walking cane that he employed when he went on walks, something he was known to enjoy.

The Freud Waiting Room. Noticeably missing are old issues of People Magazine, Psycology Today and Sports Illustrated

The next room is the place where the famous sessions took place. Noticeably absent is the famous couch. The Freuds took it to London and it now graces the London museum. The walls were lined with documents, pictures, and more certificates. I began to feel how much intellectual energy had coursed through this space during the years. I felt a little unsure that I was adding any to it in the least.

I moved into the room past the examination room into his library / study. Here he did much reading and wrote often. His chair had been specifically designed to fit his peculiar reading posture. He usually leaned back with one leg slung over and arm of the chair and leaned his head back, supported by nothing. He held the book up almost at arm's length. I wonder if he ever analyzed his reason for that? There was a mirror given to him by a friend. I was prominently displayed in the room. and through the audio player, it was explained that in it, he most certainly saw the result of the many skin cancer surgeries. I looked into in it and realized that I was staring into the mirror that Freud had also once stared into. But all I saw was myself and my insecurities. The abyss stared back. Where WAS that couch when I needed to engage in self-introspection?

I wandered into a video room where "home movies" of Freud in various activities such as birthdays and anniversaries were being shown. I sat through a few minutes of this, left and encountered a couple rooms with more documents (written in German), books and memorabilia. There were some photos of Andy Warhol and friends in Freud's appartment circa 1965 displayed for some reason.

The part of the flat that I seriously doubt that Freud had during its heyday was the gift shop. After a cursory few looks at some of the merchandise, I made my exit back down the stairs, through the cool, dark entry way onto the bright, sunny street. Although I didn't receive any psychiatric analysis, I did feel a sense of respect for the man, his dedication to a profession, and his contributions. Another famous resident of a city filled with a long line of historically significant residents.

Pardon me Miss, but the Doctor is NOT in. Do you have an appointment?

Following my tour, I was standing on the corner, talking on the phone to Susan. A small, older lady(who I later learned was named Silva; meaning forest) took an interest and when I hung up, asked me where I was from. I replied USA; Oklahoma and she smiled and we talked about Vienna, the States, life, you name it, for about 30 minutes. During the course of the conversation , she told me that there were places that the bomb damage from WWII could still be seen. Then, from a slightly bowed head, with tightly pursed lips, and looking at me through the top of her eyes, she added "from the Americans". I shyly shrugged with a "I don't know what to say" expression. Then I added "but NOW we are friends, right"? She brightened up and smiled, "Yes, now vee are friends". International incident over.

After a ride to the Volkstheater where I enjoyed some Asian noodles while sitting in the park at the Heldenplatz near the Hofburg. Then a Kaffee Americano at the Starbucks while I watched the people. I also brought along my Apple Macbook Air to check and return emails. I could have done that at the "Villa" but I wanted to join the other "hipsters" at Starbucks that hammer away at Apple computers while having overpriced coffee. I know someone must've thought they were witnessing some important American bigshot who was making tons of money right there on his magical Apple computer while being ensconced in such an exotic local. Or maybe they realized it was just an expatriated American coach that was emailing his best friend, who he was missing more than ever.

I returned, stopped by the PennyMarkt for some groceries and returned to the "Villa" to recount the day's events and to review some pictures which I have included on the blog. Thanks for the time you spent reading about my day.