Auto-Pédestre Fischbach

11km – Intermediate – 3 hours
A peaceful woodland loop with a glorious hidden lake, typical Mullerthal rock formations, and ending with a glimpse over the royal Château de Fischbach.
Public car park at Rue de Moulin, Fischbach.
By bus: Fischbach Beim Schlass, then a short walk to the starting point.

I was caught out by one of spring’s cruellest tricks in Fischbach.

With the previous evening’s warmth and hazy blue skies in mind, I didn’t even bother putting on a sweater as I headed off on the Auto-Pédestre Fischbach early one April morning. The birds were in full chorus, the village church and Grand Ducal château were looming over me… and I didn’t realise that I was too cold until about 5 minutes into my hike. By that time I was stubbornly not going to go back for my fleece; I just pulled up the zip on my light jacket, shivered a little, and quickened my step to keep out the chill.

As it turns out, this Auto-Pédestre is a great route for a brisk walk: the first few kilometres of the trail are rather uneventful, following the main road for a few hundred metres before turning onto an asphalt forest path lined with the smell of freshly cut wood. The camera cap stayed stubbornly on as I traversed calm, tranquil woods, the sort of place belonging more to animals than to people. Indeed, the camera was only first raised – far too late, of course – as two deer, surprised by my early-morning presence, scampered away into the undergrowth, their pristine white tails bobbing quickly into the green.

With no particular landmarks I naturally began to take more notice of the smaller things around me: beech trees already fully in leaf, tiny dark-red unripened bilberry fruits, common mouse-ear flowers waiting for the sun to open, and ferns in that half-furled stage of reaching upward. The whole forest felt caught between seasons somehow: whilst the leaves overhead suggested late spring, the ground was still covered in last autumn’s debris, with leaf litter, pine cones, and nature’s unfinished business everywhere. I got an overbearing sense of transition, of nature in motion rather than at its final form.

The trail slaloms gently through the woods before – after around 3km – descending through a natural rocky gap (perhaps an old holloway?) and soon thereafter reaching the Wisebaach lake. Well, this turned out to be the surprise highlight of the tour!

A glorious glassy expanse of water, ringed entirely by trees, with a crumbling ivy-covered wall along one side and an abandoned, half-sunken rowing boat chained to a tree. Mother Nature was up to her tricks here too, the molten morning sunlight creating a golden, almost autumnal hue on the trees on the opposite bank of the lake. Unsurprisingly, after hardly having taken any photos at all by this point, I spent a good fifteen minutes trying – and mostly failing – to capture the serene beauty of this place.

The next sight arrived only a little further on: the Napoleonshutt rock formation. Somehow, somewhere in this jumble of deeply-eroded Luxembourg sandstone is, apparently, a rock that resembles the famed diminutive emperor’s hat. I didn’t quite see it, to be honest, but I did greatly appreciate this beautiful corner of the woods.

TIP: Not long after Napoleon is a rather pleasant picnic table. You’re not quite half-way round yet, but this is as good a place as any to have a break.

This central section of the trail is – by far – the prettiest, with the woodland after the rock formations showcasing classic Mullerthal scenery. Firstly, pine forest with a carpet of bilberry plants, clearly the sort of place that would be excellent for berry-picking in June or July. Then, after around 6km, a descent through the Lëtzebuergergronn, an especially pretty patch of woods with a distinctly Lord of the Rings feel about it.

The descent of the Lëtzebuergergronn complete, the path makes its way to the hamlet of Koerdange, where a left turn sets you heading back towards Fischbach once more. By around 9km, the sun’s rays had finally warmed the woods enough for me to take off my jacket. The camera, on the other hand, still remained mostly unused, partly because the trail was back to being simply pleasant rather than photogenic, and partly because the soft early-morning light had by now given way to harsher, less flattering sunshine. The landscape remained classic central Luxembourg woodland: beech-dominated mixed forest with pine, hazel, elder, wood sorrel, mossy verges, and occasional Mullerthal-style sandstone rocks.

I began to wonder if I’d finally catch a glimpse of the Chateau de Fischbach, one of the main private residences of Luxembourg’s Grand Ducal family. For many years it was the home of the former Grand Duke Jean and, more recently, Grand Duke Guillaume and Grand Duchess Stéphanie: very much a lived-in royal residence rather than simply another historic château.

At around 11km, the village came back into view through gaps in the trees. It’s an unusual place, Fischbach, sitting slightly above the valley rather than directly in it, with open fields below. I couldn’t help but notice the layers: the fields, the houses, the church and – yes! – the château, in that exact order from bottom to top. It creates an almost textbook image of old European social structure, with the labourers’ fields at the bottom, the noble’s mansion – Luxembourg flag proudly fluttering – at the top, and the church as the meeting point of the classes in between.