A ride on the chairlift in Vianden is like travelling back in time. Slowly floating, gently swaying, machinery softly rattling. At the top, visitors can enjoy a spectacular view of the town and castle. 

I’m standing in front of the ticket office at the valley station in Vianden. Further ahead, two chairs clatter around the corner. They are silver-grey, simple and surprisingly small. That’s exactly how they were back when I learnt to ski. I was just three years old when I sat on one for the first time, on my father’s lap.

It’s exciting! We climb higher, only a thin bar separates us from tumbling down onto the moun­tain. At the same time your gaze wanders over the breathtaking landscape, your nose gets colder the higher you go, and you feel free, filled with happiness, a little excited and secure at the same time.

Later, over the years, chairlifts have become futuristic, all-round oases of well-being. Padded to the hilt, heated, and with streamlined hoods to protect against snow and storms. Sometimes, just occa­sionally, I’ve sat in one of these high-tech armchair lifts, with seven other mountain friends sheltered from the weather and seated on cushions, and quietly missed the old days. The wobbles. The thrills. And now, here in Vi­anden, it’s all coming back to me on Luxembourg’s only chairlift!

In front of me, two tourists buy their tickets for the trip to the lofty heights of Vianden. Should I quickly have a two-cent coin pressed into a souvenir medal? As with other places that attract visitors, there is also a minting machine here. Insert a coin, add a second coin for payment, turn the crank and you have a copper-coloured souvenir with Vianden Castle on it. Of course you have to do it – it’s simply part of the ultimate tourist experience! I slide the freshly minted coin into my wallet.

A few steps further on, I’m stand­ing on a yellow circle with an ar­row pointing to the lift-off area. A nice young woman waves me over, directs me where to stand, pushes the chair under my buttocks, and off I go! Up towards the summit, just me, the sun and a sense of nostalgia.

I float over houses, the river, a miniature golf course that also reminds me of the past, and glide slowly over gardens in my chair. It goes slowly, very slowly. My gaze wanders calmly. Swinging is forbidden – just like on the ski lifts. Below me in the shade are children in a playground.

At the top, I enjoy a cool Coke and soak up the fantastic views all around me. The castle towers to the right and beckons. The path up there is rocky, crosses slate and winds through the forest; it looks wild in places and is impressive. You definitely need sturdy shoes here. I enjoy the impressive castle from afar. I’m not going to visit it today. I climb back down to the town for the last two stops on my journey.

The narrow streets of Vianden are charming. People smile in the sunshine. Like them and now me, the famous writer Victor Hugo once strolled through these streets. He was politically persecuted because at the end of the 19th century he protested against the French government for shooting at its own people during riots. He found his self-chosen and secret exile in Vianden, having already fallen in love with Vianden as a traveller.

Another art form that fascinated Victor Hugo was photography. If you stroll further around Vian­den, you will discover something that brings past and present to­gether in a wonderfully original way with the help of architecture and photography.

On the outskirts of the town, I walk along the river, past the picturesque cemetery – and suddenly find myself standing in front of the gigantic dam wall of the pumped storage power plant. Emblazoned on the wall are metre-high portraits of the workers who helped build the pumped storage power plant. The portraits are the work of Düssel­dorf artist Klaus Dauven, who painted the photos on the wall with a few helpers and high-pres­sure cleaning equipment, on the initiative of the ViArt ASBL art association and in collaboration with the SEO (Société Electrique de l’Our).

I have to smile. My uncle Walter, a civil engineer from Austria, was one of those who construct­ed the site in the 1950s. For a long time, I’ve wanted to look for a picture of him and the dam in the archives. I think of him again. Travelling with him, perhaps I once made a coin as a child. Coming here to Vianden has been a real journey through time.