After my tour of Belgium, I once again boarded a train, this
time bound for Luxembourg City. A number of people during the trip asked me why
I planned on visiting Luxembourg, being the small country that it is. To be
honest, my answer was twofold: First, because I haven’t heard anyone else
mention they have seen it and second, because it was on my way.
Luxembourg City is by no means large; nor could it be
considered a tourist destination. The city center itself, with its
European-style shopping avenues open to foot traffic only, form a grid, easily
navigated. To the west of the city, the river Uelzecht weaves below steeply
curved hills separating the new part of town from the old. The Bock, a large,
stone, naturally occurring wall that once housed soldiers, now stands as a
tourist attraction.
My hostel was in the Eastern part of the city, so I wandered
the old town as I made my way to the shopping district. As I was appreciating
the antiquated architecture, I noticed a grove of apple trees on the edge of
the town. Apples had fallen naturally from the trees and were strewn all over
the ground. I local informed me that the grove was tended by the city and that
the apples were free for anyone to take. None of the apples were of a variety I
could name, but upon tasting them, they were mostly tart, firm, and crunchy.
One looked like a miniature red delicious, but didn’t have any of the cardboard
consistency I have come to expect of that variety.
I continued my stroll into the city’s center. In the late afternoon,
the shopping district was bustling. Restaurants, in the European style, were
empty inside as eaters were, instead, spread across tables spilling into town
squares. Upon locating a grocery store, I entered to see if Luxembourg had
appreciably different ingredients than my previous travels. Mostly, it was a
repeat of things I had seen before, but I did purchase some golden dates. The
skin was not wrinkled as I have come to expect, and the bright colored skin
gave way to a firmer texture, not the gooey inside of a usual date. The
selection of local cheeses was limited, and the few that I did sample had a
gummy texture, and mild flavor. I did end up selecting a brie that was sharp
and tangy, but it was from France. The cheese area also had a curler for sale.
Enchanted by the thought of making cheese florets, I purchased that as well.
Other locals I met perusing the store mentioned that I
should go North and see the fair that was in town for the weekend. I took up
their suggestion, and was pleasantly surprised to feel quite at home.
Overpriced rides and carnival games that are nearly unwinnable were
interspersed between food vendors. Churros, kebab, and hamburgers were
available, but so were grilled sausages with a variety of sauces ranging from a
horseradishy dijon mustard (senf), to a spicy, squirtably mayonnaise they
called samurai sauce. The local specialty was a potato pancake, mixed with
herbs and a little egg as a binder, then deep fried. Clearly, healthy was not
the name of the game. To quench one’s thirst from all the fried and salty
foods, beergardens also scattered the fair. Standing tables were heavily
populated with raucous crowds, parents getting some much needed time, using the
fair as a babysitter.
Back at the hostel, my nightcap was a shot of eau du vie, a
90 proof clear spirit flavored with plum, shared with my roommates for the
night: A Parisien man in his retirement, a young man from Germany, a Romanian
man moving to Luxembourg for an internship, and two Spanish men on vacation.
Cheers to that.
Next stop: Zurich
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