Other Luxembourg Stops

Vianden is a sweet little town a one hour ride from Luxembourg City. Construction complicated travel meaning that I had to go from bus, to train, and back to bus before finally arriving an hour late. My hostel was at the foot of Vianden's castle which meant lugging my wheelie uphill on cobblestone streets. Groan. The town itself is small, affluent and is divided by a small river, a nice touch. So many cafe tables under umbrellas line the streets, their owners holding up their door frames. I kept looking for some sign of a working class but was unable to find it. There is hardly even graffiti in this town that I can see. Over it all is a beautiful castle, brilliant in the afternoon sun.

Vianden's castle has the usual history of being built centuries ago, passing from one to another before being abandoned and left to ruin. This one was bought and beautifully restored by the government. Too beautifully restored in my opinion as it felt more like walking through a polished museum than an ancient castle. One display that caught my eye was of old powder rifles. Language was a problem, but the picture was clear and fascinating. These rifles, even the pistol have a little gizmo that looks birdlike with a piece of flint in its beak. Pull the trigger and a flapper whacks it on the head making it strike a plate creating a spark that transmits to the chamber through a tiny round hole and...blam!

Also on display was a series of cartoons from artists worldwide, their theme being 'Bio'. Later I stumblde upon the caricature museum where last year's contest is on display, the subject  having to do with chairs. I struck up a conversation with Florin, who explained his project (www.caricature.eu). His wife, he told me, makes ceramic bird whistles that she sells at the annual event in Luxembourg City just ahead of Easter when the people gather to whistle in the birds, a shrill festival to welcome the coming of spring.

The next day I took a combination of buses to see the Beaufort Castle. The countryside was cultivated, laid out in rectangles of greens. Small towns with their big boxy houses clustered here and there with regularity and, oh! was it ever beautiful. In one stretch the road coming into and out of town was lined in an orderly row of trees with burgundy leaves creating an almost red tunnel when the sun came out. Up, up the road winds to the town of Beaufort which is dull. It felt fairly modern with its big homes and neatly landscaped yards. I did not even want to explore. The bus driver pointed me in the direction of the castle, downhill, unusual for a fortress. This little castle was incomplete, restored where it could be and left where it couldn't. On bad days it rains inside. I wandered up and down very worn stone steps, through arches without walls into rooms with no ceilings. As it should be. At the end, the girl in the tiny gift shop gave us samples of local liquors, currant and raspberry. Nice touch for such a chilly day.

More than glad to navigate my return trip to Vianden, I lingered at the bus stop to complete my sketch of the mansion across the street with an audience, a chatty and enthusiastic woman who wanted to see my sketch. I don't think either of us understooda word but it doesn't seem to matter.