Luxembourg Loser

The Start of Something Special
Europe in the summer of 2015. Seven countries in less than two weeks. It wasn’t a trip; it was a sprint, a whirlwind crash course in the art of extreme travel. For the first time, I found myself hopping from one nation to the next at breakneck speed, soaking in everything: the cultures, the languages, the food. The sheer chaos of it all—fast, frenetic, and borderline absurd—was intoxicating. It hit me then: seeing every country in the world wasn’t some distant fantasy. It was possible.

But here’s the thing—this was before I knew what I was doing. No notebooks, no thoughtful documentation, no obsessive cataloging of every moment. Hell, I left the entire trip with exactly three photos of Luxembourg. Three. Now? I can’t visit a country without snapping hundreds of shots from every angle like I’m directing a feature film. Back then, though, it was just about the experience, however fleeting. I had a good time, sure, but looking back, the details are hazy, like trying to remember the exact flavor of a dish you loved once but didn’t bother to write down.

Four years later, I’m piecing it all together, and what sticks isn’t the specifics—it’s the feeling. The rush of it. That was the beginning of something bigger, the moment I started to wonder if I could really go everywhere. Turns out, I could. And it all started with that crazy, fast-paced, beautifully imperfect blur of a trip.

Life is a Highway
For a guy with barely any travel chops at the time—this was before I’d fully committed to the madness of serious globe-trotting—driving in a foreign country was a bold choice. I’d been at this “travel thing” for only four years, and Luxembourg, country number 31, was where I decided to test my nerve behind the wheel. Even now, the thought of navigating foreign roads makes me break into a cold sweat, but back then? I went for it.

The journey started in Frankfurt, where I landed, rented a car, and promptly pointed it toward Ramstein Air Force Base to meet friends for dinner. The next morning, I hit the road again, heading for Luxembourg. And let me tell you, driving in Germany and Luxembourg was a revelation. Clean roads, fast lanes, and—praise be—people who actually know how to drive. Left lane for passing only? A concept so beautiful, it brings a tear to my eye. Don’t even get me started on the nonsense we tolerate elsewhere.

The hour-and-45-minute drive was smooth, effortless even. Until, of course, I hit Luxembourg City. That’s when things got…interesting. Traffic was heavy, the streets confusing, and I was very obviously “the tourist.” If I didn’t have every local driver behind me muttering under their breath, I’d be shocked. By some miracle—or sheer stubbornness—I eventually found my hotel and, more importantly, a parking spot. The car stayed put after that. I wasn’t about to tempt fate twice.

For the rest of my one day in Luxembourg, I did the only logical thing: walked everywhere. The city may have been a maze behind the wheel, but on foot? It was a joy. And really, that’s how Luxembourg should be seen—slowly, deliberately, and most definitely not from the driver’s seat.

Loser
Three photos. That’s it. Three measly snapshots of Luxembourg. Looking back, it’s almost embarrassing. Amateur hour, plain and simple. But hey, everyone starts somewhere.

So here they are—the entire photographic legacy of my time in Luxembourg. Don’t blink, or you might miss them.

And… that’s it. That’s all I’ve got. How lame is that? Luxembourg, and my memory of it, reduced to a handful of scraps. I remember staying at Hôtel Le Châtelet—they gave me a big room, which was nice. I remember a walk into town, the streets alive with a bit of energy. But beyond that? A blank. Senility creeping in early, I guess.

This, right here, is why I started this site. It’s my way of keeping the details alive—the places, the moments, the meals—so when I’m old and gray (or let’s be honest, older and grayer), I can come back to these posts and relive the trips. Luxembourg may have slipped through the cracks, but not everything will. Not anymore.