Luxembourg

A look into my various grand (mis)adventures throughout Europe

Buckle down, kiddos, because I’m about to regale you with some harrowing adventures.

The most common question I was asked regarding this whole trip was: Why Luxembourg? (If you follow me on any social media, you also know that I answered that question in full.) But before I can even begin to answer that question here, I must take you back to the beginning—to the time before I even reached Luxembourg.

So in terms of the first mishap, I fully understand my errors. Although this was not how I imagined my greatest moment of cultural confusion occurring, it was an issue I’d been struggling with for some time that was bound to come for me in some way or another.

I am, of course, referring to Europe’s frequent use of military time. Now I know it is not a foreign concept in the U.S., but I've come to rely so much on the more common “a.m.” or “p.m.” to differentiate between the times of day that I never really made an effort to become fluent in military time. Upon arriving in Europe I immediately realized this would be an issue, especially since it is most commonly used for transportation times.

You can see where I’m going with this.

It turns out it is rather difficult to get into Luxembourg, especially from a country that does not directly border it. My friend and I had to thoroughly explore several websites and all possible forms of transportation to get to Luxembourg City from Interlaken. We were finally able to find two bus routes that lined up well. We were relived, we congratulated ourselves. A good time was had.

You see, dear readers, our first bus from Interlaken to Basel, Switzerland ran from roughly 8:30-10:30. Our second bus, from Basel to the Luxembourg bus station, was scheduled for 1:40-6:55—that is to say, two in the morning to seven in the morning. I realized this three days before we left. Thankfully, however, we were able to swiftly correct the problem (thanks, Flixbus!) with a refund voucher and a new bus ticket that left from Basel at 10:50 a.m. The turnaround time was swift, but it was still a more achievable feat than going back in time to catch a 1:40 a.m. bus.

The second mishap we shall call an unfortunate twist of fate. For our stay in Luxembourg we had booked an Airbnb just outside the city center. Being the model, polite Airbnb guest, I messaged our host a few days before our arrival to let him know of our plans (which had since been amended post-bus mishap). Imagine my surprise when I was greeted with an apology--apparently our host had overbooked our room, and we would not be able to stay there for the first night. On the bright side, there was a refund. On the downside, we once again were tasked with last-minute arrangements, this time to find place to stay for just one night. Salvation came in the form of Youth Hostel Luxembourg, located in the Grund quarter (more on that later). Not only were we the only people in a six-bed room, there was also an adjacent restaurant, free breakfast, and lockers in which to store our luggage before our Airbnb check-in. If there's one thing you take away from this series of ~tRavEL bLog~ entries, it's that hostels are underrated and need more love from travelers young and old.

Also underrated and in need of more love from travelers? Luxembourg. It's clear that its past is still very much a part of its present. The walls and tunnels that were employed as a fortress in the early 20th century snake through the city still. They enclose the valley-like village of Grund and a sloping, verdant park, both sites a workout for the legs and the heart rate. A portion of them, the Casemates du Bock, can even be explored (fair warning: you will get lost). Grund in particular is reminiscent of a fairytale setting, made all the more so by its rather removed location from the rest of Luxembourg City. Once you walk upwards and out of it (or take the convenient Pfaffenthal Lift), it transitions into 17th/18th architecture expected of a historic European city. Walk a bit further, and the buildings become taller, sleeker, more modern; past the train station, and the city reflects the influences of international cultures and ethnicities in a venture into the contemporary.

It's also no secret that Luxembourg is a rather *ahem* financially comfortable country. Its main park has a giant sign of the country's name, for goodness sake. I googled its most popular foods, and one of the top answers was simply "wine." They even have a museum (ironically free) that explains the extensive history of their banking system, complete with a room filled with piggy banks and a replica of a bank vault. To put it simply, the whole economic operation is spread across seven facilities connected by yet another underground tunnel--which just so happens to have an art gallery in it, because they can.

Like any other city, Luxembourg is not immune to constant improvement. But in a city that is already rather tightly-packed together and facing a heavy traffic problem, what would normally be a minor inconvenience quickly turned into a major one. There were multiple times when we had to take lengthy detours or locate obscure makeshift paths because of road construction. Traffic cones, work vehicles, and barricades interfered with the otherwise beautiful streets.

Although it was a nuisance at the time, upon further introspection there was a certain symbolism to it. From the intricate fortress walls to the bank museum, Luxembourg remains cognizant of its story. But at the same time signs of its progress are present all around the city, whether it's the expansive infrastructure improvements, the modern art museum, or even the promise of supposedly free public transportation by 2020. It is a mentality shared by all of the historic cities I've had the privilege to visit on this break: looking into their bright futures, while ensuring they would not forget the long, tumultuous, complicated journeys from whence they came.