Strasbourg-Luxembourg

The view from the train was somewhat sentimental because the tree-covered mountains reminded me of Kentucky. Laura was kept company by an energetic seeing eye dog.

Our train pulled into the Luxembourg City train station at around 4 PM. Luxembourg is a small country (Only about as big as most counties in the U.S.), so we decided to spend our time just in the capital. Again, I had no idea where we were going to sleep. I hoped for the best.

Since it was Sunday evening, I decided it would be best if we grabbed a quick bite before everything closed. We stopped at a Subway because they had a decent deal for students. Also, to my surprise, this particular Subway offered free refills. This may not seem like a big deal, but this was the first time Laura and I had encountered this in Europe. (In France you buy a coffee for 2 Euros. If you want another coffee, you pay 2 more Euros.) I soused myself with carbonated drinks to my heart's content. I knew I would be treading the dangerous waters of incontinence later, but it was worth it.

My discourse on drinks leads me to digress: finding a free place to use the restroom is nearly impossible, from what I have seen so far, in Europe. Some places are "generous" and offer free restroom facilities to paying customers. Normally, one would expect this, but in many establishments this is simply not the case. If you go to certain Mcdonald's restaurants and spend 10 euro on food and drink, there will still be a restroom ATTENDANT expecting you to pay anywhere from .30 to .60 centimes (cents) to use the potty. Frankly, the places I have seen which do this the least are Nantes and Luxembourg. At any rate, if you can't hold it, bring a change purse with you on your travels.

I had little more planned than just walking around, so I decided it would be best to take a circular path around the center of the city. Even in it's center, Luxembourg was incredibly quiet on this particular Sunday night. The city was also clean and well-nigh devoid of graffiti.

We finally threw away our well-worn Subway cups due to the cold, and started taking pictures. The most conspicuous building in Luxembourg City is its iconic castle where the Grand Duke and his family live. I will not discuss Luxembourg's government at the present moment; it is unique, so I suggest you reconnoitre the structure at your leisure.

Having seen all of the sights, Laura and I went into a small bar because it had wireless internet access. I ordered myself "The most Luxembourgian beer available" and got Laura the most non-winy wine available. What I perceived to be a couple arrived shortly after us and took a seat in the neighboring booth. At first I thought they were speaking Luxembourgish, but upon further inspection, it turned out to be Russian. I did not perturb them, but a haggard-looking individual in the bar decided it would be a good idea to perturb me.

Apparently he spoke French and a little English, but the only language I understood was Oaf. (Having been one myself in the past I still understand this tongue even if I cannot speak it anymore.) He would continually approach me, force me to shake is hand, then walk away. During each "visit" he would also make comments to Laura which assuredly riled me up. After several return trips, he decided to also bother the Russian couple. The woman bluntly told him that he was not being polite and that it would be in his best interest to leave them undisturbed. He complied for the moment, and went back to the bar.

During this brief respite, I began speaking to the Russians. It turned out they were not a couple but simply friends. Ilyas, as his name is written in English, began speaking to me about Luxembourg and Russia. Unfortunately, we were yet again interrupted by the inebriated man. Having had enough, I raised a fist, ready to level my first European. I somehow restrained myself and forcibly marched myself to the bar where I tattled on him. He was given the door, and I returned to my table.

As it was getting late, the Russian woman bade us farewell. Ilyas remained where we talked in-depth. His French was about the same level as mine, so we would switch between English and French depending on the difficulty of our explanations. During our discussion, I learned something very interesting about Russia. Living a few hundred miles or so out of Moscow, Ilyas told me that his mother tongue was actually closer to Turkish. He said everybody has to know Russian, too, but only because it is the official language of the state. He did not know the word in English or French for the name of the particular dialect.

As we were leaving, I asked where we could find a youth hostel. Unexpectedly, he offered to walk us to it even though it was nearly midnight. At this point I thought that either all Russians were saints, or that we were about to get murdered. I decided on the former, but only because of vague intuition. On the way he gave us a short history lesson.

We passed by the following:

• a British Embassy
  
• a rather nice church with an equally nice fountain
  
• an ancient wall
• the former gate of the city when the Romans occupied the area. (Sorry; no picture. He was in a hurry to catch his train after seeing us off.)
  

We arrived at the hostel and said our goodbyes. As we walked our separate ways he turned and shouted with a wave, "I respect the Americans!" I never imagined I'd be a United States ambassador in Luxembourg.



(Forgive the angle; our suitcase took this one.)

Next stop: The bristly, bustling, wonderfully bedraggled Belgian city of Brussels.