It was a historic moment in Burt-world. I had finally done it. I was in Luxembourg.
If you're thinking it's no big deal, you need a little context. Allow me to provide it.

Back some ten years ago, as I was Burting around Europe, discovering beautiful places I'd only seen pictures of, there were naturally some fun moments. One of them was when I crossed Liechtenstein in what felt like fifteen minutes. But as fun as that was, I could never find a way to work "When I was in Liechtenstein" into a sentence. I needed to go to Luxembourg - the only country with a name that sounded good in that context, which I could then casually drop in at the start of any sentence, to inflate its importance. Something having happened in such a place must be important.

Well, today, I crossed the border. And not only that, as I left Schengen, my fuel light came on, and at that moment, I found myself in an unexpected ghetto, closely resembling Marseilles. I was surprised, as my vision of Luxembourg had always been one of a super-clean, well-to-do place, where my aging van would be towed away if I left it for long enough to buy a parking ticket. Of course, the rest of the country I saw did pretty much fit that image, but I had to run out of fuel in the one place where my motor would be a prize worthy of facing my krav maga skills.

Half an hour later, I was in a quiet, friendly neighborhood where I'd have liked to spend the afternoon perusing the local stores and sitting outside the cafe, had it not been too late in the day. So, I've now seen a ghetto and a 'burb, and that's enough for me.

As I was leaving, I enjoyed the countryside and remarked to myself that it was basically the same as at home.

All this happened when I was in Luxembourg, you understand.

A place between the two places I've been.