May 4, 2010
I ate salmon grilled crispy on the outside this evening, moist and juicy inside, served with carrots cut on the bias and coated with the most luscious sauce. Simple food, but so satisfying to the soul. Served just off the Place d’Armes in a brasserie where I listened to a Brit talk long and excitedly about his job with the ministry while his dinner companion tapped his foot impatiently under the table, much to the obliviousness of the Brit.
First impressions: Luxembourg feels like a mini Paris. French predominantly is spoken, although I’ve also heard German that sounded German, German that sounded French, British English, American English, and a language I could not even name; people here smoke even more than in Italy, an amazing heart-break for a woman who just walked her mother to death for a love of cigarettes.
The city is wireless—check out http://www.hotcity.lu.
Also, the city has a wonderfully progressive
bike-sharing system called vel’oh!
I’m not here long enough to give you any kind of authoritative report, and I fear my impressions may even be narrow and unbalanced, but I have walked through yet another place my parents walked. I have seen buildings and landscapes they viewed, and I have felt the widening of my world in a way that must be much like what they felt. And this is what I have been seeking, for in it lies a understanding about home and family, and who I will be in the coming years now that I have neither.
Off to Paris! I’ll write more from there . . .