Disheartened by Europe’s harsh weather, a traveller looks to the world’s wealthiest country, Luxembourg, to raise her spirits, discovering a land of free public transport, delicious wine, and at least one kind stranger.
Moods were sour as we marched through the grey city streets in the hammering rain. We had travelled south by train from Brussels to spend a weekend in Luxembourg, and the first impressions of the capital were not kind. We walked with heads down, staring at the pavement, in the misguided belief that this would save us from arriving at the hotel drenched.
Our mission was to travel to the Moselle Valley to taste the local wines. We wanted to drink the wine at a stone’s throw from grape to glass. The Moselle Valley extends from the Vosges mountains in France to western Germany, passing along the border region of Luxembourg. Our target was a restaurant in the village of Wormeldange-Haut, around 25 kilometres from Luxembourg City. Studying online timetables, I found a bus leaving from the city’s main bus station in time to arrive in the village for dinner, returning around midnight. But what if I had misunderstood the schedules, or if the bus was a no-show? The prospect of being stranded in a remote village did not appeal. Undeterred, as dusk started to settle, we set out from the hotel, umbrellas this time at the ready.
The connection between Luxembourg and Brussels is more than just a railway line. Luxembourg is home to many EU Institutions, including several financial bodies, such as the European Investment Bank. It is a wealthy country that reportedly enjoys the highest GDP per capita in the world. An impressive statistic, but what does it reveal about the character of the people? Would one weekend be sufficient to find out? Venturing through the wet streets, I admired the architecture of the city’s municipal buildings and looked for a reason to challenge the perception that the country might be, well, a little staid.
It was on the bus that I found it. The rabbit in the hat. I had read about it in a guidebook, but found it hard to believe until I saw it for myself. As I stepped on board the bus, the driver did not ask me to pay any fare. He did not even look at me. There was no ticket machine, no bus conductor. I followed the example of the people in front of me and walked straight past the driver’s booth to take my seat. You see, public transport in Luxembourg is free. Yes, you read that correctly: everyone living in the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg can travel around the country at no cost. Even more impressively, every visitor to the country is granted the same privilege. How many countries offer such a gift? The measure was introduced by the Government in 2020 to combat road congestion, while supporting social mobility. A perk of the country’s wealth, perhaps; a benefit to be applauded, certainly. The outlook for the weekend was brightening on all fronts.
I settled back in my seat as the bus navigated the suburbs towards the dark of the countryside. Not paying a fare made me feel like everyone on the bus was being given a lift home by a friend. I wanted to give fellow passengers a cheery wave as they were dropped off along the way. Finally, we pulled into a bus stop signposting Wormeldange-Haut. I looked in vain for the bus stop for the return journey, but as our table reservation was waiting, I decided not to worry.
Before I could eat, there was still one more hill to climb, literally, as the restaurant lay at the top of a steep incline. After catching my breath in the restaurant’s car park, I opened the door. I was greeted by a hubbub of chatter and a welcome blast of warmth on my cold cheeks. The dinner service was in full flow, and the room was buzzing. Waiters were pirouetting through narrow gaps between tables, swooping their trays up and down as they served. In the far corner, an open fireplace crackled, bookended by large log piles. All the way around the room, the walls were lined with shelves heaving with wine bottles.
Standing watch over the room was an animated gentleman who bustled toward us. Delighted to hear that we had come so far to dine in his establishment, he showed us to one of the few remaining empty tables. We had booked the “Raclette and Riesling” experience, and it was quite the theatrical affair. A waiter brought us a grand old block of cheese with great fanfare. The poetry of the cheese entrance was only slightly punctured by the arrival of the more prosaic heating contraption for the melting process. As I scraped slice after slice of hot cheese onto my plate, I tried not to think about how I was basically eating a whole packet in one sitting. In any other setting, this would seem inconceivable. As if such thoughts were not enough to make me feel queasy, the waiter offered me, with quite a flourish, a dish of hot potatoes served in a nattily embroidered sack.
A few hours later, I stood up in a food daze, and the garrulous owner walked us to the door. I explained how we were staying in the city and were at the mercy of the local bus service. I was laughing as I spoke, a nervous reaction of mine when faced with a potentially tricky situation. Without hesitation, the owner put his hand on my shoulder and declared, “Do not worry. If you have any problems with the bus, you come back here. I will be happy to give you both a lift to the city after we close, if you need.”
There it was. The moment that tipped a casual weekend into a memorable travel experience. To make such an offer at the end of what must have been a long and tiring day was above and beyond. With this one kind gesture, I was once more a teenage backpacker without a care in the world. Is this the essence of travelling? A hope that most people are decent and will offer a helping hand to a stranger in need.
Buoyed by this reassurance (and a few glasses of Riesling), we tripped back down the hill and soon found the bus stop. With time to spare, we repaired to a nearby café bar that was still open. It was a café like the ones you find in every village in Europe. The slot machine was blinking in the corner, a wall-mounted TV was playing music videos on repeat, and in a separate area at the back, the regulars hunched over their lagers.
As the clock ticked towards midnight, we finished our drinks and walked to the bus stop. The roads were empty, but I was relieved to see a few people loitering by the shelter; we were not alone in trusting that a bus would appear. Five minutes later, the headlights from a large vehicle pierced the darkness. The last bus. Oh, ye of little faith!
Sunday brought more rain. It was one of those winter days when opening the curtains served little purpose, as the room stayed stubbornly dark. To fill the remaining hours before our train departure, we made the most of the free public transport by jumping on a random tram to see the sights along its route.
The weather continued to put up a fight. Big, fat raindrops on the windowpane obscured my view. I squinted to focus my eyes on the world beyond the columns of droplets. Car lights were refracted by the rain, creating mosaics of red streaks and halos. The soaked streets acted like shiny mirrors, reflecting the primary colours of the traffic lights and signposts. The effect was a colourful, if decidedly blurry, panoramic light show as the tram trundled past state buildings, parks and occasional monuments. Eventually, we called time and spent our last hour cradling hot chocolates in a station café.
During the four-hour train journey back to Brussels, I reflected on how my perceptions of Luxembourg had changed during the visit. The country had to fight hard for my affections, hampered as it was by the harsh weather. While the scenery may have been disadvantaged, a simple human encounter spoke up for the whole nation. Isn’t it interesting how your view of a country can be forever formed by the actions of one individual out of an entire population? Any one of us could have the same impact without realising it, by how we respond to travellers visiting our home towns. Well done, Mein Host, you were a good Ambassador for Luxembourg.
And credit where it’s due. Any self-respecting traveller should embrace a country that provides visitors free public transport, no questions asked. Give any country a chance, and it will surprise.
