extreme peak, it's about a balance between planning, adventure, and life experience of a country. The “highest points” were Kneiff, Signal de Botrange, and Vaalserberg respectively. Once my business was complete, I grabbed the train from Cheltenham just two hours West of London to the Paddington Station where another train would return me to Heathrow for my flight to Brussels. After the short flight, my first action was to find a rent-a-car for the weekend. After stepping off the plane, I headed toward the customs agent via an extremely long walkway requiring numerous moving walkways that I did not use to stretch my legs from the hours of sitting in meetings or traveling by car throughout the week. As I approached the customs agent, I reached into my computer bag to grab my passport in the secure pocket I used at all times but it was not there. I've always wondered what it would be like to lose your passport in another country and hoped I’d never know but as I scurried through my bag, it was no were to be found. I pulled everything from my bag and felt the dreadful feeling of being in a bind in Belgium. I thought back to the Heathrow airport in London and remembered the multiple check points I had to demonstrate my passport. I must have lost it when putting it back the last time. I looked again but panic started to set in.
A customs agent walked over who could clearly see I was trying to find the one thing I could not lose. My only other hope was if flipped out of my bag in the overhead
bins, but I know the time I spent getting to this point and checking my bag the plan was most likely closed. She smiled and said lets check and we walked back all the way back down the long walk way in opposite direction of the moving walkway making the trip even longer. I joked to her it was probably in my bag but she shrugged and said it would be fine. As we approached the gate, the doors were already closed but luckily the cleaning crew was detailing the aircraft. The customs agent swiped her badge and I looked in all the obviously spots near my seat to no avail.I stepped out and as I had told the agent on the way back, it is probably lying in plain sight in my bag and after another quick look; it was in a outside pocket. As we walked back she inquired of my stay and talked of the dog she found on the highway on the way to work which made her late. As she just got to work and now was dealing with me, knowing the other agents were going to give her a lot of slack for her support. It was clearly not busy so she thought she was okay. I walked up to the other customs agent and he looked at my passport and promptly stamped it and said nothing. I made a comment that she now knows everything about me including why I'm in Belgium and he confirmed that's why he did not ask a thing.
I went to the rent-a-car to secure a car then made my way out of the airport and on yet another project360 adventure. As I made my way south from the Brussels Airport,
I was instantly placed in the afternoon traffic on E411 South which remained deadlocked for least 20 miles. I wondered if I made the right decision taking the major highway south as recommended by the Avis attendant instead of traveling the longer route on country roads. Either way it did not matter as both would get me where I needed to go and I was here to enjoy the sights and sounds of somewhere that had never been. The countryside was remarkable as the sun was setting to the west brilliantly against the countryside reminding me of the rolling hills of the Midwest. I was impressed by 
the numerous groups of electric windmills that dominated the highway borders with enormous fan blades spinning in the fading light. I tried to take a picture without great success as I was driving an excess of 130 killometers per hour.I continued south toward Wilwerdange, Luxembourg, my planned Google Earth starting point where I might grab a hotel and enjoy world famous Belgian waffles in the morning, however similar to that in London, I was about to experience a chain of events I thought I had covered from lessons learned with a new travel rule.
In my possession I had my Dell laptop, Blackberry with Google maps, and Garmin GPS but all would quickly become useless to my plans.
First, I documented on my computer the routes and coordinates prior to leaving the states so I insured it received a full charge the night prior at the hotel in Cheltenham. However, when I woke in the morning, I discovered the switch on the outlet was in the wrong direction thus failed to give the laptop a charge. Why anyone needs an “on off” switch to an outlet, I do not know but I was pushing time to catch the train to London so I had to go.The second fate was my trusty Blackberry. Once in the Paddington Station awaiting the train back to the Heathrow airport, I opened my gmail account for the email with my flight time and when doing so, it asked me for the log in password for the devise. Assuming this was the same one when logging in when starting, it abruptly told me the password was incorrect and for my security would wipe the entire memory if I reached ten tries without the correct answer. Needing my flight details and not believing it would erase my entire memory for a internal application, I indeed reached ten tries and the devise assumed I was a thief and promptly reset itself back to factory “out of box” condition. I
planned to use the Google maps feature to get me in proximity of highest points and then use the GPS from there as the points might be buried underneath snow or without a marker. No computer and now no blackberry. Lovely! I did preloaded the highest points coordinates on the Garmin GPS but it did not have Europe highway maps making it trial and error as they the first was over 100 miles away!I was on my way south through the Belgium countryside with only a black-and-white Avis map trying to read the French marking and road signs. Truly it does not matter how well you think you prepare, there's always a sense of adventure.
As I continued south, the countryside flew quickly by and before I knew it I had arrived in Namur and A4 leading me to more of the easterly direction to intersection of my morning starting point. Knowing my best chances of finding a reasonable hotel in Belgium would be in one of the larger towns, I arrived in Marche-en-Famenne as dusk was rapidly falling across the green landscape. The town center was cloaked with cobblestone roads so narrow my compact could barely fit and I could sense the history around me. Even though I hoped to be closer to my morning starting point of Wilwerdange, Luxembourg, I started my search for a hotel for the night. As I drove around, I was anxious to the stroll through the cobblestone alleys experiencing its history but first things first, I needed a hotel. With the signs in a foreign
language and no modern search capabilities, I was destined to a memorable evening.The funny thing about traveling around the world in the recent years is the work it takes to achieve the smallest action when you have a language barrier. You're in their country, you don't know their native language, and you need something. It's exhausting work. I assumed there would be signs offering clues but nothing after 30 minutes of driving around. Even though the town was small and quaint, my best bet was to find the local pub to provide help over a beer. I found one quickly off the main road and addled up to the antiques rectangular bar. For some reason I was beyond surprise that no one understood English because I thought being close to the United Kingdom the country would have some English speaking skills, but the one thing about climbing highest points is its tendency to take you off the beaten track. When you're deep in any country including Belgium the chance of someone knowing English is few and far between. The people were brought up in their small communities and still held their core ancestor values many generations before. After numerous hand signals, I got my point across and the bartender tried to help including grabbing a phone book but she was
not successful in helping me find a place to stay the night. This is where the night quickly turned to one that I'll never forget.About that time, a couple walked in the gentleman somewhat understood my predicament. I notice a small sign on the wall that I concluded said “free Internet” and thought if I could just get my computer to power up just long enough I might be able to backup my Blackberry to get it going again. But my new friend who spoke a little broken English said he would have none of that and I could stay at a apartment in the center of town his fiancée was a property manager of and looking for a renter. My luck was remarkable but I tried to refuse due to the situation but he would have none of it. I said I needed to go grab some cash as the bar did not take credit card. I ran over to a bank machine but since I only brought my credit cars and never use them for cash advance, I could not remember the pin number. I tried a few times to what I thought it might be but no luck. I went back into the bar with reservations about taking him up on his offer but they continue to persuade me on Belgians hospitality. The lady bartender who spoke no English asked me what I wanted to drink but I refuse as I knew I should probably get moving along but again the Belgium man whom said it would not be proper not to offer such help. I drank my Belgium beer which through it thick draft and high alcohol content packs a stiff punch.
By this time I knew a lot about my new friend including the cultures of his country in contrast to the cultures of our country. It was concluded I would say at this place and he wanted to take me over to have a look. We left the bar and walked over back to through the cobblestone streets to the historic buildings. His fiancée opened the door and it was a small three-story apartment next to the historical Church in the downtown square. Beautiful! Now that I had a place to stay I ask him if he was hungry and if he knew of a good restaurant in town as
I had not eaten all day. We went to a Greek restaurant which was situated on the same cobblestone road around the corner. Still reeling from the heavy beers and no food for the day, my new friend ordered dinner for all of us including two rounds of Ouzo, a spirit widely consumed in Greece. He also ordered a bottle of red wine when dinner came and this was also consumed. Our conversation in this small Greek restaurant in central Belgium was at times very strange and I was clearly getting drunk. It was decided after dinner we would head back to the bar and have one more beer, but I could tell my new buddy was even worse off than I was. I asked how they were getting home and discovered his car was broken and they lived about four miles away from the square. I offered to take them home after a few cups of coffee but that was a mistake because then he decided that the best solution was I just say at their house.Knowing I was not going to take up his offer and now find a hotel elsewhere or stay in my car, we went back to the bar for one last beer. There was now three diehard French Belgium’s at the bar whom became engaged in a conversation about Clinton, Obama, and the Bush(s). The conversation was stimulating at the beginning but to no fault of mine, the bartender and many others around were now starting to understand my gestures and what I was trying to say. One of the French Belgium’s clearly became upset at the conversation and became more agitated until he finally decided to leave.
By this time my friend whom I had dinner with was arguing with his fiancée and I clearly wasn't going to go home with him especially know that I was having a great time in the conversation all around with others at the bar. It's been awhile since I drank so much not remembering events but this was one of those nights as I woke up in an apartment adjacent to the bar in the morning. I head was pounding and I knew this would be extremely long day.In the morning, I found my way to the car which was only around the block and headed east on N86 to start my journey or the day. It was already past ten in the morning and there would be no Belgium waffles for
me today. With my handy black and white photo copied map, I made my way through the snowy back roads until I reached a town of La Roche-en-Ardenne which was clearly soaked in history beside a bend in the River Ourthe. The small town appeared to be a popular tourist destination in the Ardennes region and I discovered latter was used by the Romans whom built a fort to support their conquest of Gaul and the Ardennes. In more recent times, the fort high above the town was a medieval castle used between the 9th and 18th centuries and in World War II, the town suffered severe damage having 
been liberated by the Allies and was recaptured by the Germans during the Battle of the Bulge. Subsequent bombing raids resulted in the town being liberated once more but left much of the town destroyed and many residents dead. Lot’s of history!I needed to continue on N89 but the roads were extremely difficult to follow due to the signage but somehow found the right path and continued until I reached the intersection of N68 which would take me south turning to Highway 7 situated next to my first “summit” of the day. The countryside and back roads recently received a fresh blanket of snow but fortunately were fairly clear and easy to pass. One thing I found out about Belgium is their lack of coffee at the gas stations what I needed desperately this morning. I also needed water for my horrible dry mouth and some advil which no one understood. What luck!
In the Roman era, a fortified tower guarded the crossing of two Roman roads that met at the site of Luxembourg city. Through an exchange treaty, Siegfried I of the Ardennes acquired the lands of Luxembourg. Siegfried built his castle, named Lucilinburhuc or "small castle" on the Bock. This is where Luxembourg’s history begins as a town gradually developed
around the fort which became the center of a small state of great strategic value. The junction of the two Roman roads is at what is known as the Fishmarket, historically the centre of the city and was the site chosen as the heart of Luxembourg Castle. The name is derived from its use as a marketplace for the sale of fish and produce for the trade of which was the foundation for Luxembourg's early economy.
Lying in the eastern part of the Ville Haute quarter is Saint Michael's Church, a Roman Catholic Church and the oldest extant religious site near the same spot as the original castle is located at the Fishmarket. The first church was built on the spot in the late 900’s as the castle chapel for the Count of Luxembourg. However, over the following centuries, the building was destroyed, rebuilt, and renovated several times. Its current appearance dates to late 1600s. The building has been restored since then, preserving its original form.
In the 15th century, the House of Luxembourg suffered a succession crisis due to the lack of a male heir to assume the throne, which led to the territory being sold. In the following centuries, Luxembourg's fortress was steadily enlarged and strengthened by its successive occupants. After the defeat of Napoleon in 1815, Luxembourg was disputed between Prussia and the Netherlands. The Congress of Vienna formed Luxembourg in personal union with the Netherlands.
The Belgian Revolution in the mid 1800’s reduced Luxembourg's territory by more than half, as the western part of the country was transferred to Belgium with Luxembourg's independence reaffirmed by the First Treaty of London then again in the 1860’s with the Second Treaty of London. The King of the Netherlands remained Head of State as Grand Duke of Luxembourg, maintaining personal union between the two countries until 1890 when it was passed to his daughter.
Today, Luxembourg is one of the smallest countries in Europe approximately 50 miles long and 35 miles wide and as I crossed the northern border near the final point in north Luxembourg, this is where the GPS came in handy with the coordinates of Kneiff already loaded. The summit of Kneiff is a hill in the commune of Troisvierges, in northern Luxembourg. At 1824 feet (560 meters), it is the highest point in the country and only 1 m taller than Buurgplaatz which is often erroneously considered Luxembourg's highest point. The snow was really deep as I stepped out of the car and hiked up the hill a
quarter mile to the point where my GPS stated I had arrived. The area was beautiful with a family of young evergreen trees and a large oak in the distance. I snapped some pictures including one of the GPS proving I was here and gave a few fist pumps being on the highest point in another country. Went to Signal-de-Botrange in Belgium
1 comment:
Nice one, there are actually some good facts on this post.
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