Yesterday yours truly set out around lunchtime to find the place where to get an internet connection for my new place. It was another warm and sunny day and so I thought I'd go on foot.
The building that I was looking for was supposed to be located at 283 Route d'Arlon (or Arlon Road). I started walking at the beginning of the said road, thinking that it would be pretty easy. Just march on and on, keeping a healthy tempo, and soon enough you'll reach the place you're supposed to be. In addition, nice exercise will be had.
So that's what I did. It was much farther than I had thought. The sun was beating down on the little meerkat head, and the road went steadily uphill. In an hour or so I started to have regrets of not having taken the bus.
Eventually I reached a house with a sign clearly saying: 283, Route d'Arlon. Two blokes were having a smoke outside. So I ask them: where can I find Numericable, the company?
Bla bla bla, bla, bla, bla ... they gurgle in French, waving their arms as they tend to do. The only thing I got was the word NON! I asked once again. They go bla bla again. This time I understood that they were trying to tell me that this is not the building. That there was another building with the same number somewhere in that direction ... up the street.
I left reluctantly, dragging my feet in the dust. I was almost 100 % sure they were pulling my leg or nose or any other protruberance of choice. I was sure they must have been thinking: oh what a boring afternoon we are having! Let's have some fun at the expense of the stupid meerkat, asking the way in its silly meerkat language!
I then remembered that someone had mentioned that the said offices are next to a big department store, called the Belle Etoile, or the Pretty Star. So I decided to ask for directions to that from the next person I'd meet.
Two kind women waved their directions, also up the street but said that I'd better take a bus because it would be a long way. Waiting for the bus, an elderly woman picked up a conversation with me in mixed Letzebuergisch and French and by the time the bus came, I knew all about her family and her many ailments ... which was quite a lot, considering that I speak neither. I think it must be one of the two things: either I look a complete nutter (because that sort of thing happens to me all the time) or I simply have that kind of a face :)))
Finally, the Pretty Star shopping center. I enter and ask for further directions. Another guy says: non, non, non ... it's not here, the address here is 380 Route d'Alon! You have to go back! And he waves me down the street.
At this point, I was fuming. I marched down that blasted road, cursing loudly in Estonian. The thing I was most afraid of was that I'd now march DOWN the street and UP to the same damn building I had just come from! If that would be the case, I thought, I would look up those men and give them a piece of my mind as well as a thorough stuffing!
So I keep walking the Arlon road ... 360 ... 340 ... 300 ... and ... 283!
And it IS another building!
Those blokes had been telling the truth!
After getting my breath back and my contract in order, I asked the customer service to answer this question for me: how is this possible?
The explanation was simple. There is one Route d'Arlon. Within the limits of Luxembourg, the numbers reach from one to about 300. Then Luxembourg ends and Strassen begins and ... wait for it ... wait for it .... THE NUMBERING STARTS ALL OVER AGAIN FROM 1 !!!!
CAPISCE ?!?!?
After that I took a bus straight home. It was half past 4 pm. On my way home, I passed by the food store, and bought:
1. potatoes
2. a cucumber
3. eggs
5. sour cream
because, frankly, I felt I needed some proper home made nourishment!
Boiled the potatoes and eggs and made me a salad ... and the meerkat was happy again.
Purring, in fact :)))
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