Day 20: Dudelange
After wandering on to the golf course and over 3 km off track, I found my way back on the trail and walked to Burange. No hotels. Walked on to Budersberg. No hotels. Both are suburbs and that will be a rant for a separate post. So, I backtracked and went slightly of the trail to Dudelange. The first two towns are on the trail and are suburbs of Dudelange. Dudelange is the main town and not on the trail. Anyway, different rant.
Hotel #1 sold out. Hotel #2 sold out. Hotel #3 sold out. I ask hotel #3 about directions to hotel #4. Sorry, that is closed. Hmmmm. Hotel #3 suggests hotels in a town going back in the direction I came. Arrrrrgh, back tracking. He offers to cdll a cab. I say, no. It’s under 6 km and only about 5. I can make it. He calls. All three hotels in the other town are also sold out. Next option is 18 km away. That’s just not doable. We look at each other. Bus to Luxembourg City? No, I’m not ready to do that. He suggests the skate park. There are some nice benches and maybe even a public toilet. I head to the skatepark. I don’t see any toilets. He had also suggested the stadium. Sometimes people camp there. We may have lost something in the translation. I see the sign to the stadium. I pause. I ponder my options.
I know. I’ll find a bar and see if they have any unadvertised rooms to rent. I don’t know why I think this is an option. Many bars. I have to pick the right one. Not a dive but nothing too fancy either. Find one that fits the bill. BTW, practically ever bar in southern Luxrmbourg is run by Portugese. And this one is also. Most of the patrons appear to be Portugese also. I ask the bartender if she speaks English. She looks at me suspiciously and reluctantly admits maybe a little. At this point one of the patrons yells out that he does. I explain my situation in a combo of English and French. Not sure he understands fully but appears to get the basics which he relays to bartender in Portugese. She looks even more suspicious. There is some discussion. Finally I get what appears to be a no. But I realize it wasn’t a firm no. Things are looking up.
I take off my backpack, set it and my poles against the wall, take off my hat and sit down. Worst comes to worst, I’ll just stay here. Two other men figure out my predicament. Tell me about a Chinese restaurant up the block that rents rooms. I take off. It’s not 6 yet. The restaurant is closed but there is no indication that there is a hotel or rooms to let. I return to my bar. I order a beer.
People talk to me me. Most of which I don’t understand. Someone buys me fries. I don’t think I’m hungry but I finish them off. Someone buys me a beer.
I ask when the bar closes. The bartender says at 1 but then it turns into a disco. Huh??? I look around. It is barely above a dive. A disco?
I registered for Airbnb but had never used it. A few times on this trip where I was trying to reserve a room and couldn’t find one, I had checked it out. But I had never found a room in the town I was looking and it was usually miles away. Plus Airbnb is a community. It relies on reviews of hosts and travelers. I had never used it so had no reviews. But the bar had wifi. So, I checked it out for my current location. One place came up. Same town. Actually just a couple of minutes away. The owner is Isabelle. Instead of booking, I send Isabelle a message. I tell her my predicament. I may have begged. She says come on down. Half way up the street I realize I don’t have her house number. What the fuck am I doing? I stop. A woman turns the corner and says, Omar?
And that is how found a place to spend my last night in Luxembourg and meet this lovely couple.