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Saturday, June 29th - Wiltz to Luxembourg City, 6030 km
The two Dutch boys are heading north today, continuing on their way home. While we preparing our bikes outside the hostel, I explain the benefits of using panniers
instead of a backpack. I let them ride my loaded bike to get a feel for it. A loaded bike feels quite strange at first, but it is much better than having the weight of your belongings bouncing on you back all day and getting them soaked with sweat. With the weight lower, the bike is much more stable too. The boys say they'll use panniers the next time but they are fine with backpacks too.
I choose the longest possible route to the city of Luxembourg, first heading north to the town of Clervaux. Oesling is largely a raised plateau where the rivers have carved deep, winding paths. I keep to the higher ground because the routes are more direct. I stop to take a few pictures of Clervaux from the hills above. I have come to see the white castle with a slate roof nestled in the valley beside the 
town. It lives up to the pictures in the guide book, but not worth a closer look as I don’t have time to tour it and don’t want to drop into the town and climb out again.
From there, I swing east to the Our River (German for ‘bear’) that forms the border with Germany. An early morning sprinkle of rain made my plans seem tenuous, but by
the time I reach the Ours the day is quite pleasant. I follow its twisty, serpentine path south to the beautiful town of Vianden, which is crowned by a large, brown castle. The town is touristy. I glide across the river to the German side for a large stack of junk food for lunch.Back on the Luxembourg side, the road climbs and falls at every bend of the river. For 15 km south of Vianden, the road is quite hilly. From there, a bike path hugs the river bank below the road all the way to the Mosel River, but I only go as far
as the town of Echternach. There is no signage on the bike path but I see a major bridge over the Our carrying transport trucks, which according to my map means I have just passed the town. I ride back to Echternach. The town is walled and fairly interesting. The main
square is with a picture or two. I ride west up the Gothic-looking Gorge du Loup (Wolf Gorge), a small sculptured canyon carved through a limestone escarpment. It is magical. The rocks and trees are covered in moss, and the looming cliffs give it a haunting, Celtic feel – very spiritual. The dense forest makes it hard to catch the feel of the canyon on film. Finally on top of the escarpment, the forest thins and I course a route through a series of small villages, farms and woodlots. A local cyclist catches up to me and we have a half-hour conversation in French. He is taken aback by not finding his
village of a thousand people on my map. When I leave him, I follow a beautiful road that plunges down through a thick forest and emerges with a national highway at the bottom of the valley, that takes me the last 10 km into the city of Luxembourg. 
Getting established in town isn’t as easy as I had hoped. There are plenty of sign outside the town centre pointing the way to the tourist information office, but none in the centre. I spend half an hour searching for it. When I find it I am told the hostel is full. I call them anyway to see if they can suggest any cheap hotels, but they are not very cooperative. After I express my frustrations that they will not accept same-day phone reservations, they change their tune and offer me a room. I am humbled and 
rush over to the hostel thinking they have gone out of their way to help me, but when I learn of the general chaos, the total lack of helpfulness and other types of mismanagement over the course of the evening that feeling disappears. In fact the bunk bed below me is never filled although many travelers have been turned away. I befriend a 23-year old German boy, shy and likely gay, whose name is Josef. We walk around town and settle in for a beer in a local pub. We both seem to sense a special interest in each other, but his body language says he is way too reserved so I respect his space. We walk back to the youth hostel along the darkened upper ramparts and make our way to our separate beds.
It has been a wonderful day, one of the best of my trip so far. Luxembourg is 80 km from north to south and 50 km from east to west. It is great little country. I have cycled farther today within its boundaries than its height and width combined and have enjoyed every bit of it.
PHOTO 1: leaving Wiltz
PHOTO 2: Clervaux
PHOTO 3: bike path on Ours Rivers
PHOTO 4: Vianden Castle
PHOTO 5: Ours River
PHOTO 6: fortifications at Echternach
PHOTO 7: le Gorge du Loup
PHOTO 8: the beautiful road that plunges down
PHOTO 9: palace of the Grand Dukes of Luxembourg
PHOTO 10: Luxembourg, from top of the canyon
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