Twenty-nine: Grand Duchy

Kim, Amanda (our expat pal) and I went to Luxembourg. We figured why not? It's close, it's obscure, it's got a Duke. At the time we were under the impression that it was the 3rd smallest country in Europe, but turns out it's only the 6th. It is the 2nd wealthiest though (behind Liechtenstein.) This is evident in Luxembourg city. The buildings and streets are pristine. There is free city-wide wi-fi. Our boutique hotel was charming, though the bar across the street was hosting a very rowdy weekend long costume party (storm troopers!)

We wandered the streets, found the cutest farmers' market ever, did some great shopping and ate some good french-ish food. We climbed down into the Bock Casemates, a network of mildly interesting but mostly claustrophobic caves that at one time served some purpose that none of us are clear on; something about munitions.

We decided to take the scenic route back to Amsterdam. Honestly, the rest of Luxembourg is rather uninspiring. And not as put together as one might expect with all that money. I was hoping for streets paved in gold or at least snappy public housing, but really the only evidence of wealth is heavily subsidized fuel prices. We drove through several small towns (Ettlebruck seems pleasant) then stopped in Munshausen to visit the Ardennes Draft Horse Museum. The horses were cute but there was no 'museum' to speak of. It was more like a petting zoo.

The local pub was frightening. Very dark, very low ceilings, very packed with people speaking very strange Luxembourgish. The bar tender was giant and severe. When we tried to order cappuccinos (there was an espresso machine behind the bar) she launched into a tirade, gesticulated wildly, then jammed her hands onto her hips and glared at us. Amanda stared back, utterly agog. Kim managed an "uuhhhhh..." We looked nervously at each other, then around the room. Would this outburst result in some sort of riot? Would we be run out of town? I pointed to the beer tap and said "deux?", which seemed to appease her. We quietly sipped our beers. A few minutes later a woman sidled up to the bar and ordered a coffee. The bartender reprised her rant. Then she fixed the woman an espresso. We looked at each other, at the bartender, at the woman and her coffee, cogs turning furiously to no avail.

After Munshausen we figured it was time to return to more familiar turf. We stopped in Maastrict for bratwurst, collectively relieved to be dealing with good 'ole Dutch again. Funny how one's idea of 'familiar' can change over the course of a year...