Why Luxembourg matters


Europe has lots of tiny countries. The rest of the world reminds itself of this fact periodically, almost as a running joke. How Vatican City is the smallest “independent” state, but (come on people), is it really a country? Andorra sounds charming, too, until you go there and discover it’s only the European Union’s largest outlet mall. Likewise, Monaco‘s just a casino with a racecar track, and Liechtenstein‘s a drive-thru bank for dodgy Russians with Austrian passports.

Despite the less-romantic realities of present-day Europe, we travelers still get a kick out of these nifty, little hold-out principalities and monarchies. Somehow, they’ve prevailed in the tempest of European history, avoiding absorption into their larger neighbors all the way into the 21st century when we can ironically celebrate quirky existential nationhoods in the face of supranationalist sentiments.

I first visited Luxembourg on a whim–hopped a train in Brussels and three hours later, stepped off somewhere deep in the Ardennes. I was young, brave, and poor and it was late at night. I walked away from the one-room station in Arlon and disappeared into the forest, bumbling in the woods until the sounds of passing cars disappeared. When I found a comfortable spot, I pushed away the pine needles and lay down on the cold ground, using my lumpy canvas backpack as a pillow.I woke up well past midnight to the softest sound–approaching footsteps? A gentle, rhythm-less pit-pat all around me. It took me several minutes to figure out that all I was hearing were leaves–dead autumn leaves falling from ancient trees and hitting the ground, one by one. That is the silence of Luxembourg–you can hear each leaf hitting the ground.

A louder rustling woke me a few hours later–a little louder, a little closer, and a little more disconcerting. Panic, then peace set in: it was only a doe in the forest, rummaging, peeling bark from the pine trees and stepping timidly closer and closer to my little clouds of breath rising from the ground.

I shivered in the forest until dawn, then hiked back to a road where I fell asleep at a bus stop like a grungy homeless person. I woke up bleary-eyed and asked one of the more respectable citizens nearby if this was Luxembourg. It was.

This was long after the EU but also long before Google Maps. Nowadays you can just google Luxembourg and see how a thin grey line–an international border–simply traces the length of a road, jumps a stream and cuts corners through some farmer’s field (“Well, nine-tenths of my wheat’s right here in Luxembourg but the other tenth is over in Belgium”).

Somehow in the night I had entered this new country and now I was determined to explore it to the fullest extent. Using my finger and a map, I determined that Luxembourg’s fullest extent was around 30 miles–the length of road between Belgium and Germany. Thirty miles is nothing, really. I could walk that in a day, I thought. And so I did. I started that morning and ended at sunset when a bridge crossed the Moselle and I came to a polite, little square sign (chest-high) that barely announced “Deutschland”.

To figure out my to total walking distance across Luxembourg, I retraced my steps online. After punching in my start and end points, Google Maps shouts a stern warning in a yellow box: “Use Caution–This route may be missing sidewalks or pedestrian paths.” Indeed. My jaunty one-day trek across one of the smallest countries in the world was performed without the assistance of sidewalks or pedestrian paths (or a compass or a map). Most of the time I spent walking in open fields, loving the quaint freedom of fenceless Europe.

By walking, I saw tiny Luxembourg up close and personal. As countries go, it’s a good one. Much of it is very green, divided into forests, fields, and hills. Light yellow stone cliffs and the deep gorges offer a sense of wild landscape, untamed even by these most European of Europeans. Perky castles stand out in the countryside–real life castles where people live and a mailman still delivers the mail. Palaces fill the capital–grandeur and pomp without any particularly urgent purpose. (Remember, this is a country run by a duke, a nobleman who’s latest headlines involve his birthday party and a tumble dryer catching fire in his palace basement.)

Only half a million people live in this country–an odd mix of imported Eurocrats, happy farmers, tax refugees, rich people with titles, and polyglot investment bankers. Maybe it’s not the twee world we had hoped for (black-booted princes on horseback or whistling peasants sticking pitchforks into haystacks), but even in the midst of today’s bland supermarché EU Europe, Luxembourg retains its heirloom personality in its customs, unique government, thousand-year old culture and its even odder language.

In the city of Luxembourg, I attended a Catholic mass read in Luxembourgish (aka Lëtzebuergesch, Luxembourgeois, Luxemburgisch) and found myself delighted by the strange mashup of French and German pronounced like guttural Dutch. Geez, I thought, it’s a whole different language spoken by fewer people than live in the Tallahassee metropolitan area.

Luxembourg’s national motto is Mir wëlle bleiwe wat mir sinn or “We want to remain what we are.” The meaning is clear and pretty much sums up every country’s deepest patriotic longing. Because Luxembourg, too, is the red, white, and blue. Well, the red, white and light blue (turquoise?). This is a Grand Duchy folks–the only sovereign duchy left in the world–and the average American traveler to Europe overlooks it like they overlook high-fructose corn syrup. In the rush from Paris to Amsterdam to Munich and back, Luxembourg is the no-name brand of Europe that fails to inspire the uninitiated vacationer.

It’s a terrible mistake though, because honestly, nowhere is Europe more alive than in little Luxembourg. There is no Eiffel Tower or Oktoberfest or legalized marijuana but there is a glint of Europe as it once was–as it still is. Where quiet and pastoral comforts are much valued, where Sunday strolls pass over stone bridges and alongside flowered hedgerows, where no matter where you’ll look, you’ll find a tiny castle poking above the treeline in the distance. It’s nice.

In a time of megacities and mega-construction, we should be glad for a country like Luxembourg. Downtown Shanghai is larger than Luxembourg–Los Angeles County is four times as large. A lot of places are bigger than Luxembourg . . . and yet Luxembourg is the perfect size for travelers: big enough to be an actual country but still small enough to walk across in a day. Epcot Center attempts a similar feet with their 11-country World Showcase, but even your kids aren’t fooled by that set-up. Luxembourg, on the other hand, is the real deal.

I will be going back to Luxembourg–someday–and this time it won’t be for bragging rights. I can already say that I’ve walked across the entire country, but there is still so much of the country I have yet to see, for example, the North. Perhaps I will find a new route using Google Maps–a new, wandering path down the length of one of the smallest countries in the world; a long-winded itinerary that comes with a stern warning, “Caution: This Route May Be Missing Sidewalks.”

(Flickr Photos: Andrew Michaels [Flag], Hendrik [Yellow Field])

Take a virtual tour of the Sistine Chapel

Seeing the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel is a hassle. It’s constantly mobbed, you’re not allowed to take pictures (unlike the sneaky photographer on the right) and you have to walk through a maze of rooms to reach it. But the minute you gaze up at the beauty of this Michelangelo masterpiece, all the pains of getting there evaporate. Now there’s a totally new way to view this stunning masterwork without all the fuss, courtesy of the Internet and some high resolution photography.

The Sistine Chapel Virtual Tour offers web-surfers the pleasure of exploring this oft-packed wonder all by themselves, all rendered in gorgeous detail. You’re free to zoom in on the most minute details of the frescoes, examining them up close in a way never before possible. To help get you in a properly pious mood, your Virtual Sistine tour is also accompanied by the sound of an ethereal chorus (get your mute button ready if you’re not a fan of choirs). As you spin your cursor in circles around the room, you literally feel like you were there.

Thanks to technology, everyone can now get up close and personal with this amazing landmark. Best of all, there’s nobody around to yell at you if you try to take a photo…

[Via Buzzfeed]

Little Countries, Big World: Gadling’s pint-sized guide to the world’s smallest countries

I’m not sure what it is about small countries that makes me so interested in them. Maybe it’s the fact that they seem so manageable, so knowable. I could spend the next five years in, say, China, and still feel like I hadn’t seen a fraction of what it has to offer. But in some of my favorite smaller countries– Ecuador, Guatemala, the Czech Republic— I’ve always felt like I have a fighting chance.

As for the countries below, the world’s five smallest, you could get to know most of them pretty well in an afternoon. Here’s a quick ‘n dirty guide that proves that size, as the old adage goes, is not everything…

Vatican City

In a nutshell: The world’s smallest sovereign state at just under two-tenths of a square mile, Vatican City is headquarters of the Catholic Church and home to the Pope. The Vatican, an enclave within the city of Rome, features the magnificent Sistine Chapel, famous for its Michelangelo-painted ceiling, as well as St. Peter’s Basilica, the world’s biggest Christian church.

Turn-ons: Carpenters from Nazareth, piety, extolling the Christian virtues of humility and simplicity in the midst of unparalleled opulence

Turn-offs: Prostitution, drugs, promiscuity, and just about anything else fun

Interesting factoid: The College of Cardinals has never made it to an NCAA Tournament.

Monaco

In a nutshell: Sandwiched between France and the Mediterranean Sea, Monaco is one of the world’s wealthier countries per capita, thanks in large part to its status as a tax haven. Monaco is also home to the Monte Carlo Casino, among the most famous in the world, although citizens of Monaco are not permitted to enter the casino’s gaming areas.

Turn-ons: Grace Kelly, the American actress who famously became Princess Grace after marrying Rainier III, Prince of Monaco; gambling; lettin’ it ride; pleading that Mama needs a new pair of shoes

Turn-offs: Giving people their space– Monaco has the highest population density in the world.

Interesting factoid: Monaco’s sovereignty was established by the Franco-Monegasque Treaty of 1861– and I think we all remember where we were when that baby was signed!

Nauru

In a nutshell: Nau-who? Chances are you’ve never even heard of tiny Nauru, an island nation of 10,000 in the South Pacific. Once one of the wealthiest countries per capita on Earth thanks to large phosphate deposits, Nauru’s population has mostly been impoverished since the phosphate ran out in the early 1990s.

And there’s no money from tourism either. Says Wikipedia: “Tourism is not a major contributor to the economy, because there is little to see or do here, the climate is very unpleasant, and there are few facilities for tourists.” Other than that, I’m sure it’d make a fine place for a trip.

Turn-ons: Suckling at nearby Australia’s teat for millions of dollars in foreign aid, unemployment levels over 90%, accepting Australia’s asylum-seeking rejects

Turn-offs: Skinny people– Nauru has one of the world’s highest obesity rates

Interesting factoid: President of Nauru from 2003 to 2007, Ludwig Scotty might have one of the coolest names of any president ever.

Tuvalu

In a nutshell: A group of Polynesian islands in the South Pacific, Tuvalu consists of about 10 square miles upon which 12,000 mostly impoverished people roam. Tuvalu is perhaps best-known for its internet domain suffix “.tv” which it leased to a company for a cool $50 million back in 2000. Tuvalu is also one of the countries most concerned about global warming– and for good reason. It’s highest point is only 15 feet above sea level.

Turn-ons: Naming its nine islands hard-to-pronounce things like Niulakita, Nukufetau, and Nukulaelae; thanking New Zealand for agreeing to take in Tuvalu’s residents if rising sea levels swallow the country whole

Turn-offs: Making fun of Tuvalu’s ridiculous-sounding capital of Funafuti; disparaging copra production, Tuvalu’s main industry

Interesting factoid: Want a rare passport stamp? Go to Tuvalu, where only about 100 tourists visit every year.

San Marino

In a nutshell: The Most Serene Republic of San Marino, as the country so humbly calls itself, is one of Europe’s lesser-known nations, but it’s actually the world’s oldest republic, dating from the 4th century. An enclave of Italy, San Marino is located on Mt. Titano in the Apennines mountain range. Though the tiny city-state does not have an airport, San Marino manages to welcome over three million tourists per year.

Turn-ons: Hanging out with fellow micro-states Liechtenstein and Andorra, relying on Italy for national defense

Turn-offs: Olympic medals

Interesting factoid: National Geographic points out that San Marino prides itself on its finely minted coins and postage stamps, which, when you think about it, is actually rather depressing.

Travel Read: 100 Places Every Woman Should Go

I never knew there could be a book so thoughtful and inspiring for women as this one. Stephanie Elizondo Griest’s second travel book, which lists far more than just 100 Places Every Woman Should Go, is truly an encyclopedia for women travelers. It’s the kind of book that could never have existed fifty years ago, but is so refreshing that free-spirited, female travelers should feel grateful that it exists now, and fully prepared for that next trip into the wide, wonderful world.

Griest’s great book is packed with helpful historical information, inspiring stories, and travel tips. It’s broken up into nine sections — my favorite being the first: “Powerful Women and Their Places in History.” There’s so much worth digesting in each locale described. For instance, I had no idea that the word “lesbian” came from the birthplace of Sappho (Lesbos, Greece). Griest fills each description with great travel tips that often include specific street addresses for particularly noteworthy sights.What I like most about the 100 places she chooses is that she shies away from identifying places that every woman obviously dreams of traveling to, like Venice, Rome, and Paris. Instead, she paves a new path for women, encouraging us to visit Japan’s 88 sacred temples or stroll through the public squares of Samarkand, one of the world’s oldest cities in Uzbekistan.

Griest does not limit her list to concrete or singular places. Sometimes, she finds a way to take us to virtual spots like the Museum of Menstruation or creates lists like “Best Bungee Jumping Locales,” “Sexiest Lingerie Shops,” or “Places to Pet Fuzzy Animals.” These 100 “places” are really all-encompassing, and Griest manages to take us on an imaginative journey around the world, packing all her feminine know-how into each description.

I did find, occasionally, that there were some places missing from some of the identified places in her list. For instance, I was baffled as to why two Russian writers were on Griest’s list of “Famous Women Writers and Their Creative Nooks,” but Emily Dickinson, Virginia Woolf, and Jane Austen were absent. I was additionally confused that cooking classes in India and Thailand were not on the list of “Culinary Class Destinations.”

Griest’s opinions of places are somewhat biased, too. While she does a fairly good job covering the globe, a single locale in French Polynesia or the South Pacific is missing, and some places like Oaxaca, Angkor Wat, and New York are mentioned several times. Her college town of Austin landed on the list, but places like Budapest and Cairo are never acknowledged.

With every list, however, there is bound to be some bias and some personal flair and choice involved, and Griest’s original and creative sensibilities are still well-worth reading about. The great thing about this book is that you can flip to a place description, be perfectly entertained and inspired, and then tuck the book away until the next time you feel compelled to read about the places you can go. Or, you can read it in one sitting like I did and be completely blown away by the amazing places in this one world that it’s hard to imagine why we live in one city for so long and not just pack our bags and get out there and see some if not all of it.

Click here to read my review of Griest’s first travel book, “Around the Bloc: My Life in Moscow, Beijing, and Havana.” My review of Griest’s third travel book, “Mexican Enough: My Life Between the Borderlines” is forthcoming, along with my interview with the author in early January. Feel free to jot me an email (Brenda DOT Yun AT weblogsinc DOT com) if you have a question for Stephanie.


Click the images to learn about the most unusual museums in the world — featuring everything from funeral customs, to penises, to velvet paintings, to stripping.


Sistine Chapel: A Reason to Look Up

I recently saw a good friend of mine who returned from a vacation spent in Rome which she deemed fabulous. Instead of hitting several spots in Italy, she and her friend decided to focus on the Eternal City. When I asked her about the highlight, Vatican City was the winner. The Sistine Chapel was one of the reasons.

Having been there myself, I have to say, I can understand her sentiment. I can’t remember the summer crowd that I’m sure was there when I went. I do remember being in awe, as corny as that sounds. St. Peter’s Basilica may be impressive in its size, history and majesty, but there’s something about the Sistine Chapel that is such a story of triumph. Who in his or her right mind would paint a ceiling in such detail these days, particularly when lying on one’s back? Michelangelo would probably be thrilled to find out that his efforts are such a big tourist draw. Also, the Sistine Chapel is listed in Lonely Planet’s Bluelist as being one of the five reasons to look up when in Europe.

When I saw the Sistine Chapel, I knew a tad about its history and could pick out a few images I had seen in pictures before. Mostly, I didn’t know the specifics of what I was looking at. The Sistine Chapel section of the Vatican Musuems Web Page is designed to fill in the details with a virtual tour. You can click on sections of the ceiling to find out specific details about each. This would be a handy virutual tour to take before visiting the chapel in person.