Little London

Unintentionally I found myself on several routes including the fortresses of french engineer Vauban and the road of St Jacques to Santiago along the Meuse. The inspiration of our visit to Koblenz where we overlooked the confluence of the Rhine and the Mossel, where the wine growing country began, had given me a reason to discover Luxembourg. This was coupled with a pointer from Paul to Trier, also in the Middle Mossel valley, and a desire to reach South into Belgium.

Vauban's fortress at Namur in Wallonia had been impressive enough but with the wealth of the worlds strongest economy behind it Luxembourg was a sight to behold. The impecably maintained old town sat nested aloof in the fort and sheltered in controlled water gardens in what would have once been a moat. The 2007 European City of Culture boasted tight steep passages through arches, retirement homes like places and an entire parliment, judical system and royal seat.

Luxembourg does not feel like a maverick state such as Monacco, but like a complete contry with four diverse geographical regions and a complete countryside populated by attractive small towns. Sitting in a bar next to the palace watching the disasterous European Cup final, I could easily have been in central London completely surrounded by young professionals smartly dressed with more money than sense.

However, with a system which allows your average street cleaner a healthier life than your average brittish professional and the universal ability to speak French, German, English and their native Lux fluently, I did find the people a little smug. So, I was greatful to spend a day at the seat of Constantine in Germany with its impressive Roman remains and tasty Mossel reisling, and ultimately to the friendly unpretentious people of Belgium.

I stoped again at a fortification of Vauban at Arlons who's small scale hill top form offered fantastic views of the surrounding forest and the typically Belgian decay of a town which kept its life through the vibrance of its people filling the market places and cafes. I finished the evening in the Greek quarter of the substantial industrial and very typically Belgian city of Liège, on the Meuse, sipping Chimay and throurghly confussed as to how such a society could remain preserved in north western europe.