One of my favourite movies has also one of my favourite quotes: ‘If you ever want something badly, let it go. If it comes back to you, then it's yours forever. If it doesn't, then it was never yours to begin with’.
I’ve been through a rough patch and the hardest thing to digest is the cancellation of our flights to India, due in three weeks. What does a traveller feel when she’s been dreaming to get to a certain place and this simply slips through her fingers? Apart from the tears, the money invested, and the fact that she isn’t used to being patient and for others to make decisions on her account, she feels lost. Because her life’s greatest joy also has its moments of fading.
But then, in her Phoenix-esque optimism, she thinks back at other times of her life that were blazed by tougher moments. We tend to forget the way in which we felt back then, because we overcame everything and obstacles that seemed insurmountable in the past are but a piece of cake now.
Yet, I think Luxembourg was also not meant to be for some years. First, it was too far away to reach in an attempt of mine to cover some unfamiliar European territory, then a short Belgian adventure fell through, and then I apparently stayed at home nurturing my jealousy-inflicted wounds and living the Albanian dream last summer, while my boyfriend was crossing the German/Luxembourg border.
This year, things fell into place. The sun was up again after some torrential rains in western Germany and – although our kayaking tour in Wallendorf-Pont had sadly been cancelled because of bad weather –, nothing could make me not cross into Luxembourg.
Winding, green, and bumpy – so was the road. It exuded summer. And butterflies. Old houses, orderly and narrow streets. Plus, a view of Vianden Castle I’d never forget.
Some more green followed. And an even more authentic stop occurred. The wind was blowing in my face and playing with my dress. The stairs and views of Bourscheid Castle seemed to literally belong to coat of arms and fairytale endings.
On our way to Luxembourg City, I couldn’t help but marvel at the good taste in design and clothing. It was the cutest mini-land of all! And the shopping buses of the capital made me fully understand that and laugh my heart out.
Sensuous perfumes were in that Friday’s air, in the crowded alleys of the centre, where people seemed to be celebrating good life, zest for it, and a grand love for wine and beer. Quiches and oven-baked potatoes followed in our case, with a crème brulée to keep me hooked on the country for good.
When you love something with all your heart, you will continue doing it your whole life, with the same amount of passion from the beginning. Feelings, when they are real, stay with you and there is no way for you to escape them.
Monaco, Vatican, San Marino, Andorra, Liechtenstein… I had seen them all, but had been forced to save the best for last. Why so?
Well, in the words of another favourite movie of mine:
‘It was written’.