I arrived in front of the Gare Centrale, and had only a few hour to see the city of Luxembourg before catching a train across the German border. The station itself is an old stone and copper building with a glass awning in the front. I walked north and was presented with picturesque homes in a stunning, lush valley. I descended into the valley and over a lovely stream to Brasserie Rosso, which serves German, French, and Luxembourgish dishes in a courtyard environment. I got a local spaetzle with an assortment of meats, eggs, and onions with a beer. The clientele of the brasserie was fairly upscale, and with the diversity of languages in the country, it was difficult to definitively say if someone was a local or not. With a rock of spaetzle in my stomach, I attempted to leave the cafe and, as I was paying, an older German-speaking man began asking me questions. After saying several times that I did not speak German, I took a jar of candy from the counter and offered the man a soft fruit taffy. He seemed content taking one, and I paid and left. I had a gut full of the heaviest, cheesiest pasta I had ever eaten, and I struggled to climb the hills in the Grund district. Naturally, I was afraid I would spaetzle all over the curb, and when cyclists passed me on the near-vertical cobblestone incline I mustered all my strength to make it to the top of the steep street.
Walking through town, I came across a small green choo-choo driving through the streets of Luxembourg. Apparently, the Luxembourgish hop-on hop-off tourist bus system is modeled after some of the United States’ more tacky theme parks. I saw the stately, but slightly ominous, royal palace as well as the regal plaza of some Guillame II. Visitors to Luxembourg are most rewarded, however, by the sweeping views of the Alzette valley. I did not try to sleep over in Luxembourg, as I was already pushing my luck by stopping in the small nation and would have likely spent way more than I would have liked on lodging. It seemed a town full of toursits, people stopping by on their way to Germany, France, or Belgium, and I enjoyed the strange mix of languages. On my way through the town, the bells tolled in the cathedral, and I realized my time was up in Luxembourg, and I had exhausted many of the main sights. I caught the 18:33 out of the Gare Centrale to Trier.
Victor Bernabei is just another millenial travel blogger. But here's the twist: He isn't a millenial! His goal is to see as many countries as he can, and spread the message that the world is not as scary as the news wants you to believe, and that there is beauty in all people, places and things.