And then the Villagers Stormed the Castle

View of Vianden castle from the hostel

Cold, wet, and (in Jeff's case) sick, we headed out of Luxembourg City Saturday night for the little town of Vianden along the German border - home of Luxembourg's only current nomination for the World Heritage list (perhaps you can sense a theme). This involved a train and then a country bus, and then a trudge up a steep hill under the shadow of Vianden's medieval castle.

I asked the nice lady at the hostel to recommend a place for dinner, and she mentioned that the town was having a little parade that night, followed by food stands in the school yard. A little odd to have a parade at 8 on a cold and rainy November evening, I thought, but hey - we're game for anything.

As we trudged back down the hill in the rain at 7:58, there was a seismic boom, followed by another - it was less friendly-crackle-of-firecrackers and more heavy-artillery-bombarding-the-town. I think we heard the crackling of the fires before we actually saw them: two giant bonfires on opposite hilltops that looked like they were raging out of control (Jeff voiced concern for our belongings back at the hostel).

Note the rosy glow behind the building: Bonfire #2.

Patient Vianden firefighters.

Down at the river, on the bridge connecting the two halves of the town, there was a thin crowd waiting in the rain. I reassured Jeff that the fires must be purposeful, given the number of firefighters hanging around, apparently nonplussed by the incendiary mayhem. That's when I noticed the orderly line of fire descending each of the hills: this wasn't a "parade", it was a pyrotechnic procession of villagers swinging balls of fire from chains attached to sticks, which they would slam to the ground with resounding thumps and showers of sparks while chanting some refrain in Luxembourgish that sounded generally medieval.

Basically, it was awesome.

Unfortunately, the weather was not cooperating with our multimedia devices, so the following clip is the best I could do. Make sure your sound is on.

The two lines of fire-swinging villagers - including grey haired ladies and toddlers who could barely drag their ball of fire after them - converged on the bridge, joined forces, and circled around the city, before politely depositing whatever was left of the fire balls in a crate by the river.

Vianden's finest followed after the "parade" to put out any fire balls that might have gotten left behind (it happens). I have a theory that this is the night that Vianden firefighters live for.

Fire balls safely deposited, festivities moved to the school yard, where a group of locals in a giant tent were selling cheap Luxembourg beer and freshly grilled pork sausages. Alas, the Internets have failed us on this one: while we were in Vianden, we were told the celebration had something to do with the union of the two sides of town; online I see vague references to a St. Martin's bonfire night and not much else. So I'm not sure what this was all about - but I loved it.

Post-script: We did visit the castle Sunday morning, and it wasn't nearly as exciting. But tellingly, the "Hall of the Knights" has been transformed into a Hall of the Firefighter, complete with a massive display of historic fire extinguishers, news clippings of memorable forest fires, and a reenactment of one of Vianden's finest coming to the rescue.

I have to admit: some things are lost in translation.