Embracing Life in the North of Luxembourg

Luxembourg is rightly regarded as a capital-centric country; given that the capital city shares its name with the country (a trait only shared by eleven other countries, depending on how precise your selection criteria are) it’s no surprise that those outside the borders of the Grand Duchy often regard the country of Luxembourg as being a capital city surrounded by nothing of significance. 

Sadly, this is also an opinion held by many of the residents who rarely, or almost never, venture beyond the boundaries of Luxembourg City, unless heading to the airport to leave Luxembourg the country.

Having lived in Luxembourg for a total of almost fourteen years, with almost all of that time in various parts of the capital city, I was certainly guilty of holding a blinkered view of the rest of the country. It was only when I returned here in 2017 and began working in Esch-Belval that I came to understand that Luxembourg has much to offer away from the institutions of Kirchberg, the grandeur of Boulevard Royal and the hustle and bustle of Place d’Armes.

The south certainly has its history. Esch-sur-Alzette is the second largest city in the country, boasts the impressive landscapes of the Terre Rouge and is still home to the industrial behemoth which is Arcelor Mittal, located in nearby Esch-Belval (although its administrative headquarters are in Luxembourg city). It may not have the grandeur of the capital but it is undeniably a city with its own distinct culture and heartbeat.

The north of Luxembourg, however, was a place to where I had never ventured; its forest and farmlands a distant hinterland. It is now where I call home.

As a relatively new resident of Clervaux, one of Luxembourg’s most northern populaces, the comparison to my years in Pfaffenthal, Strassen and Neudorf, are immediate and stark, yet, refreshingly, they are far from unpleasant or diminished. When I tell people who live in various parts of Luxembourg (even those outside the capital) that I now live in Clervaux, I’m often met with a similar range of reactions, ranging from “Where?” to “That’s miles away!”. However, the most common response is undoubtedly “Why?”.

That is both a simple and complex question to answer and is the result of a change in circumstances, budgetary realities and a desire to escape the ever increasing sturm and drang of a city constantly undergoing change at the cost of history, preservation and aesthetic. For a country at the heart of EU bureaucracy and its apparent adherence to slow-moving change, Luxembourg City can often feel like the embodiment of the unnamed metropolis from the Alex Proyas film “Dark City”, where, every night, old buildings vanish and new, strange constructions appear in their place, no one caring or asking why. 

However, unlike the population of that unnamed, imagined metropolis, I have the option to live elsewhere and that’s what I chose to do. Having worked in the south of the country and suffered its frustratingly poor transport links on a daily basis, I chose to point my compass north. With an emphasis on keeping my commute to the city at a reasonable length of time, I investigated properties in Lingten, Mersch and Ettlebruck. After an agreement to take over a property in Ettlebruck fell through I was left in the difficult position of having to find somewhere within a matter days, else I’d be homeless. Thankfully, Clervaux came calling.

Just under an hour from Luxembourg City by train or road (a damning inditement of the poor road infrastructure in the north of the country) Clervaux is, ordinarily, a place few visit and never for more than few hours yet its beauty and charm are undeniable. The road from the south may be tedious north of Ettlebruck but, when it winds down into the valley housing much of Clervaux, it provides a stunning view of the surrounding forests, Clervaux castle, the towering Eglise Décanale and the Abbaye Saint-Maurice, all of which dominate the landscape and provide immediate insight into the area’s rich heritage.

As a place to live it is certainly different to anywhere in Luxembourg City. The morning air is clean and fresh and the daytime pace is markedly slower. With only the sound of birds and church bells, evenings are quiet and serene. At night, there is a safe, ghostly calm and on clear nights the stars are there for all to enjoy, unhindered by the ever worsening light pollution of the south.

In terms of convenience, one certainly has to adjust. The town doesn’t contain a supermarket but does have a number of small grocery stores. Pub crawls are definitely not a local sport, but there is a cocktail bar as well as hotels and restaurants where one can enjoy a spot of libation. There are also a surprising number of excellent restaurants offering everything from tapas to sushi, as well as more traditional local delicacies. Undeniably, the bustling cafe culture of the capital doesn’t exist here and you are very unlikely to hear the cry of “Garçon!” on one of the terraces on the town square. However, I have come to appreciate the difference in pace and the softer attitude of the people who live here. There is an evident friendliness and conviviality which seems to have vanished from everyday life in more heavily populated places. There is also something about having space. Space to move. Space to think. Space to breathe. The same can also be said about one’s sense of time. No one is rushing here yet things still happen when they need to.

I have only been a resident of “the north” for around six months and still have to travel to the city to see my doctor or dentist, not because these amenities don’t exist in Clervaux but purely because I’ve yet to transition to being a fully integrated northerner. That will come with time, and everything else I need to live a comfortable life is very much here and within easy reach. There is an excellent shopping centre in neighbouring Marnach (a mere ten minutes away by car or bus), the town centre boasts a wonderful bakery/cafe and a selection of small local businesses, including a flower shop, newsagent, hairdresser, tattoo parlour and an excellent art gallery and music venue, which also acts as a community centre. The town’s two hotels also boast spa facilities for those looking for more luxurious relaxation.

Aside from these modern day amenities, Clervaux also boasts an incredible history with numerous monuments and displays dedicated to the events of the Battle of the Bulge, the last major German offensive campaign on the Western Front during the Second World War. The Eglise Décanale towers above the town with its beautiful stonework and adornments and, of course, the centre piece of Clervaux is undoubtedly its castle, which, aside from its own rich history, hosts Edward Steichen’s Family of Man photography exhibition, a UNESCO-protected attraction worthy of any city in the world. 

Then there is the simplest of benefits and one which is free: nature. Clervaux is surrounded by forests which boast hiking trails and cycle paths that stretch for miles in all directions. These routes are well maintained and feature excellent rest facilities and shelters. They are also surprisingly quiet, allowing anyone who uses them to take in the sights, sounds and smells of life in the countryside. When it is right on your doorstep, the only cost is effort.

Sadly, Clervaux is not immune to the economic problems which affect almost every town and city these days. The superb Restaurant du Château (featured in the Michelin Guide) closed its doors at the end of 2024 and a number of small businesses on the Grand Rue and towards the main square have also closed and remain unoccupied for the foreseeable future. 

The only way to ensure other local businesses do not suffer a similar fate is to embrace them. It is a simple fact but, as a resident, I now know that it makes a tangible difference if I buy a coffee and pastry at the town’s bakery or drop into the grocery for something as simple as a packet of crisps or a piece of fruit. The smile which comes with the service is worth the effort and knowing that such a small gesture on my part means that they’ll likely be open tomorrow is a reward unto itself.

There is also much to be said for the benefits of reduced options. The frustration of option overload invariably means we end up settling for the same thing again and again, blinded by the multitude of choices before us. Yet here, away from the “everything” of the capital, I am limited in my options and forced to choose. However, it feels good to embrace the psychological comfort of restricted choice and often leads to me making choices I wouldn’t consider if I was still living in Luxembourg City. 

So what don’t I like about living in the north? Well, the limited mobile phone network coverage can be frustrating when travelling between towns, but shouldn’t we all be stepping away from our devices and reducing our digital engagement? Tractors on the road are a common bug-bear to those not used to the fact that one’s neighbours here are farmers, and they have a vital job to do. Besides, slowing down for a while will do one’s blood pressure more good than racing everywhere and refusing to embrace the different pace at which life operates up here. It’s also undeniable that the reliability of Luxembourg’s trains can be a real pain. Despite being located on the busy Liège line, bus replacement services have become a regular feature during traditional holiday periods as maintenance works take precedent over convenience. However, I adjust. Now, I spend more time in my town. I contribute more to my town, taking the time to meet the people who have made it their town and every day I learn a little more about what makes somewhere like Clervaux special. 

As a former resident of Luxembourg City, I’ve seen the excitement people have when a new clothing shop opens or the availability of cinnamon buns suddenly becomes “a thing”. I’ve also seen that same attraction and novelty wear off very quickly as these previously new sources of consumerism simply dissolve into the normality of city life.

It’s undeniable that things change. This is how the universe works. Thankfully, in the north, the speed of change is at a different pace. That may not be to everyone’s preference but I’ve discovered that stepping away from the immediate convenience offered by the capital city and choosing to embrace what was once truly foreign to me has helped make Clervaux feel like home. Fast change may have brought me here but slow change will keep me around.