We were still behind schedule, so today would be another round of train travel. Our first stop was the city of Trier, about 90km (60 miles) farther up the Moselle river. It’s potentially Germany’s oldest city, having been established by Romans in the first century BC, and that means even more than the usual number of artful monuments preserved in an arrested state of decay, to stand next to and make blog posts about.
Minding the bikes as we speed alongside the waterway.
A lot of history in this gateway. It used to be part of a much larger wall.
Back when the Romans built it, it was part of a series of walls and gates to protect the city and regulate commerce, and in the 2000-or-so intervening years it was nearly torn down, then left as a ruin for a while, then repurposed into a pair of churches, before finally being “restored” more-or-less to the form the Romans had planned. There is of course no need for a giant gate to regulate commerce, nor any point to having a giant wall (in this age of missiles, long-range artillery, and flight) so it now stands as a tribute to the deep history of the city and the passing of ages. And for Nick and I to stand in front of while taking photos, of course.
Another thing we came across in our wandering was a big statue of Karl Marx. No surprise because Karl was born here in Trier, in 1818.
Indeed, it’s possible to take a tour of the very house he was born in, which has been turned into a sparse but engaging museum you can walk through. The entrance fee was small, so Nick and I checked it out.
After that we wandered a while in search of snacks. We passed a portable fairground, and were amused by the deliberately off-kilter cartoon characters.
It’s everyone’s favorite, Minsky Mouse, plus Drungald and Ghoulfy!
The Palace Garden, designed in the style of a French garden of the 18th century, with a deliberate mix of perfectly maintained vegetation and worn-looking statuary.
I especially like the choice of colors here. So decadent. Almost a tangerine dream, if you will…
Nick showing off the touring setup to a curious bystander.
I watched from a distance while he tried his quickly improving German and his new friend filled the gaps with English. Eventually they went from bicycles to travel to looking up nearby points of interest on the phone.
It’s a curious bystander with very limited English, and a Nick with very limited German!
Alas, we were on a time limit, with a hotel room booked in Luxembourg at the end of another train ride, and the train was leaving soon. The most we could do was meander back to the station.
The train didn’t have a designated bike car, but it had some all-purpose areas with no seats. We shoved the bikes into one of them and they bobbed merrily with the rolling of the tracks. It was a quiet ride. In a while the train drifted away from the river, which felt strange after so many days of following one.
The arrival in Luxembourg was grand. The central city is built on a massive hill that appears to have been cut long ago by the changing course of a river, and has since been layered and re-layered with fortifications, more recently layered with modern train tracks and paved roads.
To my eye, the most amazing part was the Bock, a wedge of rock and ancient stones and modern concrete, spearing out from the hillside towards the east. In ancient days it had been a Roman site, then the property of a nearby Abbey, then a fortress, and then finally in the last couple of hundred years the fortress was demolished and the remaining material reinforced so a paved road could be built right along the top of it, leading into the city.
What’s truly impressive is that the reconstruction was done to preserve some evidence of the previous roles played by the Bock, and you can go strolling out onto it and look around. I decided that’s what I would do.
But first, we needed to check in at the hotel. I’d managed to get a good deal on a room overlooking the central square, a.k.a. the Place Guillaume II, but only by booking it long in advance. That deadline was part of the reason we’d been pressed for time in earlier weeks, which was irritating but unavoidable.
The hotel across the way just finished putting out the literal red carpet.
Attendants were just beginning to set up a fancy welcoming ceremony for some more important people, at the Hôtel de Ville across the square. Maybe some dignitaries bound for the city hall on the west side.
After that it was time to wander. We split up, and I took my bike (much lighter with all the touring gear unpacked) and went squiggling east towards the Bock. Along the way I met the Grand Duchess Charlotte:
Here’s one of my favorite encounters: The Hämmelsmarsch statue, constructed in 1982 by local artist Wil Lofy. On top of being masterfully done, it’s also totally adorable.
Wandered around a corner and came upon this. It’s awesome.
I love the vertical surfaces. I grew up in a house on a hillside, and now I spend a lot of my time near San Francisco where houses are stacked in layers, and I feel a very particular sense of joy when I’m looking at architecture and nature wrapped over and under itself and I have to untangle the scene in my mind.
Lots of work has been done over the years to stabilize these cliffs.
Everybody knows it’ll take the wall apart eventually, but it’s so scenic!
There was so much to see in this city it was completely overwhelming, and a bit painful because we only had about a day to check it out. It seemed like every street corner and windowsill had a history, which is arguably true of any urban place more than a couple hundred years old but felt especially true here.
Take the Monument of the Millennium, for example, which I wandered past. The government had intended to celebrate the 1000-year anniversary of the city with a monument, and while excavating for its construction, had discovered ancient ruins that compelled them to stop building the monument and focus on the ruins instead.
I recognize Oscar Wilde, but not the rest. I suck at this.
Eventually it was time to meet Nick for dinner. We wandered the nearby square, inspecting menus for something that looked good but didn’t cost a fortune, and found something that was good and merely very expensive. We talked about what we’d seen, focusing mostly on the urban planning, and looking things up on our phones for reference.
I’m the fox… No I’m the fox! No I’m, no I’m, no I’m the fox!
It would have been lovely to linger in Luxembourg, swanning around one of Europe’s most expensive cities among the bankers, business tycoons, and real estate moguls, pretending that we had more money than we did and could just sit perpetually, enjoying the view from behind the obsolete but gorgeous fortifications.
But instead, we were going to do something even cooler: Board a train to Paris, one of Europe’s largest and most culturally dynamic (and also, yes, most expensive) cities. Our time was limited, and frankly it was better to be spending it in Paris now that I had checked the box for Luxembourg off of my bucket list.
Sorry, bankers and fortifications, you’re just not cool enough!
First time I’ve seen an issue of this magazine in person. It’s a bit like The Santa Cruz Comic News back home, or at least, how it used to be before it was defunded.
First time I’ve seen an issue of this magazine in person. It’s a bit like The Santa Cruz Comic News back home, or at least, how it used to be before it was defunded.
