
When one finds oneself suddenly engaged in unexpected travel, whether for business or pleasure, it is always nice to bring something from home. So far, this summer is proving to be a busy one for me. Since removing myself to Vienna in 1781, I have usually spent the warmer months in delightful indolence - people watching from sidewalk tables while sipping iced champagne, or staying within the cool faux marble walls of my music room.

Already, I have been to
Linz on an unexpected invitation extended to me by Count Thun-Hohenstein (the Father-in-law of my dear friend
Countess Wilhelmina von Thun who lives in Vienna), who has in his employ an excellent chamber orchestra. He desired that his Summer guests should hear the symphony I composed for him in 1783 and sent his personal coach-and-four to fetch me. Within its luxurious and well-padded walls and seats, I was treated to every amenity that one can imagine: cold meats, wine, artesian water, cakes, and even cloths stored in a crock of cool water to wash away the heat and dust of the road.

I took very little with me, only my usual music accoutrement, the score of the symphony of course, one small trunk of clothing and personal items, my small
en route, and my portable clavier. My father bought this little treasure from Andreas Stein in Augsburg while we were on tour in 1762 and it works quite nicely for composition when I am placed in the unfortunate circumstance of not having a keyboard placed in my room for my convenience. One never knows what one will or will not be afforded when one is a guest in a patron's home.
Tomorrow afternoon I am to leave for two days at
Laxenburg, where, hopefully, I will accompany some of the Court singers in the Emperor's regular
après dîner recitals. I have not been formally invited by His Majesty, but as I have been every year before, I think that once he knows I am near to hand, he will extend that invitation. If not, then I shall spend my evenings in the casino.
A happy and cool early weekend to you all!