Traveling Luxembourg with Whim and Wonder
An extended layover in the EU capital brings unexpected meaning through Taste and circumstance
On the surface my decision to visit Luxembourg baffled. I got the same reaction from everyone, every time. Curious, scrunched up faces asking a lilted but always polite …Luxembourg?! It seemed arbitrary and random but it wasn’t the shock value of Luxembourg’s obscurity that drew me there. It was something far more fixed, circumstantial and out of my control – the Star Alliance flight map and schedule. As it turned out, I only had so many options if I wanted to avoid a maddening overnight layover in sleepy, hard to put my finger on Frankfurt.
I can say then with every bit of certainty that I never felt the same calling to Luxembourg as I felt from every other country I visited this year. After three slow, soulful weeks in Slovenia, I suddenly found myself approaching Luxembourg’s city centre as though I was a new student. The experience felt different and so did I as I sized it all up. I felt excited and anxious but free from the lofty expectation and obligation that inevitably hung over those other calls to visit. I felt lighter, untethered and curiously, more curious than ever before.
I sat in stillness contemplating what really brought me here as I rode the city’s squeaky clean, free public transportation from the airport into the city. I tried in vain to steal glimpses of Luxembourg’s neighborhoods through the myriad of overactive raindrops skating in unpredictable patterns across the train’s fogged up windows. As I waited for my stop to come, I became increasingly attuned to the feeling that while I hadn’t been mysteriously called here, I had been summoned.
As it happened, Luxembourg was the only direct flight out of Ljubljana, Slovenia to a destination I had never been. It was entirely because of this single distinguishing data point I chose this country and this city. Flying through Luxembourg before going home was a win-win-win. I could cross off a new country, extend my time in Europe by a few more hours and avoid that dreaded layover in Frankfurt.
What could have very well been a cautionary tale of what happens when we choose a destination to check a box or to flesh out a bucket list, ended up being a truly inspired 36 hour stay. While there wasn’t the usual spark or serendipity stirring up my choice to visit, I was here of my own agency influenced only by the intervention of outside forces. And to that end, if every choice we make to move is part of a bigger story of connectivity and alignment, then Luxembourg would undoubtedly play a role in my story. It was up to me in the hours ahead to understand just how.
Looking back, my premeditated detour in Luxembourg became a simple, but striking lesson in what happens when I let Taste my compass lead me.
Taste directed me down picturesque side streets, into inspired storefronts and around every curiosity-calling corner. My experience in this lovely nook of Europe reinforced what I was already growing to believe, it is only when we let go of a set and structured way of moving, that we can most fully surrender to where whim and wonder want to take us. As the meaning of those words takes root inside of me, I pause to appreciate that simple and straightforward doesn’t always mean easy and natural.
Letting the wind blow us this way and that is an act of faith. Letting go is a practice. And Luxembourg had generously opened up its arms and volunteered to be my place of study.
A view from the bridge that crosses over the Pétrusse valley. Looking back into Old Town Luxembourg City
Within just a few hours of arriving, I discovered tucked away local treasures, absorbed energy from meaningful collisions and swiped my credit card on uncommon local goods. I moved with a sense of urgency to see as much as I could with as much meaning as I could in my brief time here.
My first find an abstract black and white drawing by contemporary local artist, Yvon Reinard was hanging in wait for me in the window at Rullem Einrichtungen, a home goods store just across from the Palais Grand-Ducal. I remember it catching my eye once and then again before I was smitten by it, obsessed with how to get it home. Eleven days later it was matted, framed and hung in my bedroom. Every time I walk past the piece, I remember with a big smile across my face where and how I came to collect it.
With no agenda besides dinner in the distant future, I wandered deeper into Luxembourg’s charming old town where I found an artisan workshop-boutique chock-full of one-of-a-kind pieces and their creator stories. At first, it was the colors and texture at Lët’z Refashion that drew me in. But it was ultimately their innovative sustainability mission to reimagine discarded fashion that inspired me to buy a pair of pillow covers and one of my favorite finds in a long time, this crazy, cool cropped kimono jacket, stitched together from bright, bold garments broken up by denim accents in all the right places.
Acting as my one and only compass, Taste all but drags me down Rue du Fossé and for good reason. There I happened upon what I have to believe are the two most charming boutiques in Luxembourg. The first Kyo was flawlessly curated, full of smart, stylish men’s and women’s wear, unique and novel goods from Kyoto and the most delicate, soft (expensive!) navy cardigan I will regret not splurging on for the rest of my life.
Immediately next door was The Modu Shop, where I would come to have my favorite collision in Luxembourg. I hit it off instantly with the store’s owner who was a gregarious, charismatic ex-pat. Her shop was full of fabulous chic pieces, fashion forward but approachable and inviting.
I beelined straight to this skirt. It had a metallic copper sheen, tied at the waist but was cut like an apron, literally open in the back. Elle Magazine had recently featured it and her store and even without the publicity, the apron skirt was impossible to keep in stock. Luxembourg it seemed and now Amanda went crazy for it.
As she gingerly wrapped it up and processed the sale, we struck up a lively conversation about what life was now like back home these days in the States. There was this awesome energy in the air elevated by her witty, smart banter that even now reminds me how joyful and powerful a single collision can be.
Coincidentally, The Modu Shop was right across the street from my dinner reservation. My choice to dine right there however was anything but coincidence. Knowing my time in the city would be limited to a handful of bites and sips, I did extensive research on where to dine. I would go three for three.
I chose to take dinner the first evening at Café-Restaurant Um Dierfgen a cozy eatery that served traditional Luxembourgian food, which by all accounts was a mix of cuisines from neighboring countries – France, Germany and Belgium. I wasn’t the least bit sad when a heaping plate of ham, potatoes and broad beans showed up. Throughout the evening I sipped white wine from Luxembourg, something I was eager to try after falling in love with new wines in Slovenia. At the waiter’s recommendation I ended the meal over homemade Apple Tartine christened with a generous scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.
It was no doubt a heavy meal, but a satisfying one and especially perfect for a cold rainy autumn night. As I waited for my taxi, the server treated me to a shot of Hunnegdrëpp, a honey liqueur and local specialty. I left Um Dierfgen warm, a touch lightheaded, fantastically fed and full of gratitude for the taste, collisions and discoveries, one afternoon in Luxembourg had laid out so hospitably in front of me.
The next morning after taking breakfast at the hotel, I had business to do at this adorable coffee shop I passed the day before The Holy Ghost. Snuggled inside a flower shop, The Holy Ghost had a small but mighty pastry counter. I sat at one of the small tables in the shop watching locals execute their Friday morning caffeine routines as I sipped on a frothy matcha latte, never really taking my eyes from the white mountainous macaroons on the counter steps away.
My culinary calendar was shamelessly built around a reservation at Nanban, a hip, unpretentious Ramen shop. I started with Karaage, Japanese style fried chicken. Each bite was juicy and bursting with flavor and just the right crunch and crisp. As a committed spice enthusiast, I came for the Tantanmen Ramen, spicy ground pork swimming in a creamy spicy broth. I sipped and savored every bite until I begrudgingly came to the bottom of the bowl. As full as I was, there was never any question I would try their Yuzu Lemon cake for dessert. Like what came before it, it was simply spectacular - bright, fluffy and the perfect way to close out a perfect meal.
My final memorable stop and collision in the city was at Epicery & Co in Old Town – a French gourmet market stocked full of wine, French provisions and bougie culinary indulgences. I honestly had no business being in there but I couldn’t resist. I chatted away with the sweetest shopkeeper who over the course of the thirty minutes I spent in his company imparted very French tidbits on his home the other South of France, Gascony, birthplace to Three Musketeers’ D'Artagnan, the comings and goings of Luxembourg Royalty, the merits and limitations of the French capital.
I parted with more Euros than I would have liked but I felt surprisingly restored and repleted in an inspired, indissolvable kind of way. I had not only been satiated by one local’s bewitching take on what is French and fancy, I had been touched here and throughout my entire stay by all the tiny expressions and fragments of Luxembourg’s spirit and soul. As I assemble each fragment, the Tessera moments seem to take on an indiscernible, meandering shape. When I stop trying so hard to rearrange the pieces, a magnificent mosaic held together by whim and wonder suddenly appears.
Every week, I send one new Tessera Blog on taste, travel and the truths we collect along the way. If this piece resonated, I’d be honored if you’d share or subscribe.
