One beautiful sunny day, while in Germany, we decided to head to Luxembourg.  With guidebook in hand we drove along the green pastures between Germany to Luxembourg City. A s we rounded a curve, I caught a glimpse of the walled city perched along the cliffs, grand gingerbread buildings and stiletto steeples tiling the historic town.

We wandered lazily through the town in the bright sunshine and crisp September air.  Unexpectedly finding a street market, we enjoyed a delicious lunch of grilled meat sandwiches, while grease smeared hands tried to pick up icy Coca-Colas.  A bag of globe-sized green grapes and a chocolate croissant were picked up for an afternoon snack and we were back on our way to exploring the tiny streets and gorgeous architecture.

With Tripp strapped into the backpack carrier we gingerly stepped down into the city’s underground tunnels.  Tales of ancient wars, enemies hiding in hollow caves carved in stone and prisoners trapped, perilously, above the castle moat ran through our mind as we explored the crude casemates.

Beautiful shops lined the ancient streets.  Royalty must have graced these gorgeous tree lined squares.

On our way back to Germany we stopped in a tiny town surrounding a lake called Echternach.  A small quiet, sleepy town only 20 minutes from Bitburg, Germany.

I saw a sign for Moules Frites.  We stopped for dinner.  Joe stared as I cracked each and every shell, dipping the tender mussels in white wine cream sauce.  Crispy fries absorbing all the steaming liquid as the shiny black mollusks piled high in the bowl, empty of their meat.

After dinner, a stroll down the one main street found us standing at a cafe, begging us to come and sit and fill the rest of our tummies with a massive ice cream sundae.  We did just that.

In the car on the way back to our friend’s home I said to Joe, “oh, to live that close to somewhere so magical.  To be able to say let’s go to Luxembourg for dinner, wouldn’t that be great?”  Two days later we did just that.  We packed up the babies with their crayons and plastic dinosaurs, bibs and baby food and headed back to Echternach with promises of steaming pots of moules frites.  We took turns eating and entertaining the two toddlers, enjoying a few glasses of wine in between.  After dinner as the dads got a chance to eat their now lukewarm food we chased them down cobblestone paths and greeted stray dogs in the alley by the restaurant.  It was a harried and glorious evening with friends and I will always remember the moules frites.