It was a classic case of (wo)man v. machine: me, two weeks’ worth of (dark colored) workout clothes, oddly pungent detergent and le lave-linge. It seemed simple enough to put the clothes in, add detergent and select the fabric that best approximated the clothes’ composition. Coton? Synthétique? Okay, maybe somewhere in the middle. Note, in the above photo, that I’ve learned my lesson.
When I retrieved the clothes 1:40 later (yes, really), I realized I should have paid more attention to the Celcius temperature settings and less to the words. The clothes were warm, almost hot, to the touch, and unmistakably smaller than when I last saw them.
Lesson to all expats, as I am now reminded every day when I go for a run: just because the machine looks familiar doesn’t mean it is.
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