Not to worry. I'm here to help.

Not with my millions - with my tourist dollars.

My new policy? Take a tax-haven vacation today, and keep these little places afloat.

A tax haven is a country with banking laws so lenient that depositors earn money tax-free in total secrecy.

Traditional European tax havens are in picturesque nations so cute they could be in a storybook - Luxembourg, Liechtenstein, Andorra, Monaco, San Marino, Switzerland - and so small you have to park your Mercedes in the country next door.

But this fall, these banking secrecy spots suddenly became secret no more. Bowing to international pressure, all have agreed to rat out investors to the tax man. Poof! End of an era.

Concerned about its very survival, I hurry to offer my support to the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg.

I'm determined to help out this little nation, which may have the highest per-capita income in the world - $79,000 - but whose heart is undoubtedly aching.

First up, I spend $169 a night for a basic room at the Mercure across from the train station in the capital city, which also is called Luxembourg. Then I spend $4 on a cafe latte. And $5 on a bag of chips, $5 on a Sprite from the mini-bar, $20 on a pretty good bus tour around the city, and $1.50 on a city brochure from the tourist office.

Surprise. From the upper deck of the tour bus, I notice there are no unemployment lines. No frayed Hermes scarves or rumpled cashmere. Luxembourg, it seems, is not only wealthy in cash, but also in the looks department. How well it hides its pain.

It has a Euro-fairy-tale vibe, with 12th-century fortifications that date from its days as a fortress city. It has cobblestones older than Cinderella. It has a tasteful palace where the country's royal family, led by the hunky Grand Duke Henri, lives when in town. It has three incredibly beautiful arched bridges that connect two sides of town over a deep green valley.

The tiny nation that borders Belgium, Germany, and France has a quaintly small population of just 490,000. It also has 151 foreign banks and 9,000 holding companies, and is the eighth-largest lender to the United States.

The next morning, I make my way to Luxembourg's Le Musee de la Banque - the Bank Museum. It is housed in what looks like a turreted castle but actually is the original 1912 headquarters of Banque et Caisse d'Épargne de l'État Luxembourg - the nation's original savings bank.

I'm the only visitor, which is too bad, because it's free and interesting. From a tiny bank that took care of depositors' money like a "careful father," its history states, it grew into a world powerhouse, especially in the last 20 years.

Displays of money, banking inventions, and its vault are captioned only in French, but it is easy to grasp the story here - Luxembourg has been a pillar of discreet, tax-free banking for quite a while.

So I do think about trying to open a bank account. Maybe 100 bucks - just a little something to help out. But then I read the rules. You need certified copies of your passport. And a reference from your bank. And a utility bill showing your address.

None of which I have brought.

Anyway, which bank would I choose? There are so many. Banks I've never heard of. Private banks, and other kinds of mysterious financial companies. Most of those are marked by little gold labels on mailboxes, sometimes 10 names on one box.

I walk past so many of these buildings and so many of these company offices that I start picturing bars of gold stacked in closets, anterooms, lobbies, attics, and basements all over Luxembourg. That's probably why they need all the stone fortifications.