“Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.”

-Liechtensteiner proverb

Note: This is leg five of a six part journey to Switzerland.

Liechtenstein is one of the smallest and least visited countries in the world. Located between Switzerland and Austria and encompassing part of the Upper Rhine Valley of the Alps, Liechtenstein is the only doubly landlocked country in Europe and the only country completely contained within the Alps. The country is only 62 square miles in size and has a population of less than 39,000 people. It exists almost by accident, because a medieval prince once purchased a tract of land that he never actually visited and it was so small and remote that it was basically overlooked centuries later when the old feudal lands were consolidated into the modern nations of central Europe. Liechtenstein has no airport (and almost no rail service), no currency of their own (they use Swiss Francs), and no passport control points–since the only way to get into the country is though another Schengen Zone country. They also have no military. They used to, though, and they may be the only country in history to have a negative casualty rate. According to an unconfirmed story, during the 1866 Austro-Prussian War, an 80-man unit of the Liechtenstein Army was guarding the Brenner Pass between Austria and Italy. They saw no action, but they came back with one more person than they had set out with. Apparently they had made friends with an Italian man who wanted to live in Liechtenstein, and he had come back with them. On the other hand, in 2007, Switzerland invaded Liechtenstein by accident while conducting a military exercise, and the government of Liechtenstein wasn’t even aware of the incursion until the Swiss government issued an apology.

Liechtenstein is a constitutional monarchy, ruled by Prince Hans-Adam II, who lives in a medieval castle up on a hill and holds a huge party once a year on Liechtenstein National Day (August 15th), where literally the entire country is invited into the castle, which is closed to the public every other day of the year. When a constitutional amendment was proposed in 2002 that would have taken away the prince’s veto powers, the prince threatened to move to Austria if the amendment passed. (It failed.) Despite being a monarchy, Liechtenstein is also “the only country in the world that allows its municipalities to secede, thus granting them self-determination by virtue of its constitution”, according to German author Titus Gebel. Liechtenstein is one of the richest countries in the world, but it’s not just passive income as one might expect. With an incredibly low unemployment rate of 1.5% (which is literally only 58 unemployed people in the whole country), they are a hub of specialized manufacturing, and they export everything from tools to false teeth and microwave dinners to countries around the world. There’s a good chance you’ve purchased a product made in Liechtenstein at some point in your life without ever knowing it. Liechtenstein has participated in the Olympics since 1936 (the infamous one held in Nazi Germany), where they discovered that they had the same flag as Haiti, prompting both countries to add a distinctive element to their flags (in Liechtenstein’s case, a crown). Since then, they have won ten Olympic medals (including two gold ones), all of them in alpine skiing. Because of its tiny population, this record gives Liechtenstein the distinction of Liechtenstein having the most Olympic medals per capita of any country in the world. Liechtenstein is also a hiker’s paradise, with hundreds of beautiful mountain trails of varying lengths and difficulty levels. You can even hike across the entire country in two or three days by taking the national Liechtenstein Trail.

I like to travel off the beaten path and there was no way I was going to miss the chance to visit this quirky little micronation. The morning after I took the Glacier Express from Zermatt to Chur, I took a train to the Swiss town of Sargans, on the border with Liechtenstein. The only three train stations in Liechtenstein are all north of the capital city of Vaduz and only exist to serve transportation between Switzerland and Austria. There are no trains to or from Vaduz or the entire Oberland region that makes up the majority of Liechtenstein. However, Liechtenstein has a very good national bus network that’s covered by the Swiss Travel Pass. So from Sargans, I took the bus to Vaduz, passing by Gutenberg Castle in the southern Lichtenstein town of Balzers. Then I switched to another bus that took me all the way to the Malbun, in the mountainous southeast corner of Liechtenstein, only about a mile away from the Austrian border but with no way of crossing over except by hiking across the Alps. The bus dropped me off directly in front of my hotel, which was the very last stop on the entire bus line. The entire trip from Vaduz to Malbun, crossing the country from west to east at its broadest point, took barely over half an hour. At 7:30 AM, I was eating breakfast at my hotel in Chur, and by 10:00 AM I had walked to the train station with my luggage, taken two trains (I had to switch trains halfway between Chur and Sargans), crossed the border, taken a bus to the capital of Liechtenstein, then taken another bus all the way across the country.

I checked in to my hotel and scoped out my surroundings. I had chosen Malbun as the place I wanted to stay because it’s a remote location nestled in the mountains with hiking trails all around. In other words, it’s Liechtenstein at its most Liechtensteiny. From here, it’s a direct bus trip to the capital city, Vaduz, or to the town of Triesenberg that sits in-between Vaduz and Malbun. During the winter, Malbun is a ski resort and there was a ski lift directly outside my hotel, which provided convenient access to the top of the mountain that was directly behind the hotel. From my hotel room window, I could watch the ski-lift chairs move up and down the mountain. They were almost all empty, though. There didn’t seem to be very many people around, only a flock of sheep that were grazing on the mountainside right outside my window.

A FUN SIZE CAPITAL

After getting settled in my hotel room, I got back on the bus (which parked in front of my hotel between routes since it’s the last stop), and went back to Vaduz, unencumbered by my luggage this time. I got off in the middle of the city and began to walk around.

Vaduz is an old city with a lot of historical buildings, but it felt much more modern than Chur. Only 5,696 people live in the capital but somehow it still felt like a city, not a small town. If I had been blindfolded and dropped off there without knowing where I was, I would have assumed it was a bigger city than Youngstown, Ohio, which I grew up outside of and which had a population of almost 120,000 people when I was born (Youngstown has now declined to about 60,000 people due to the collapse of the steel industry and the closure of nearby auto plants). It’s shocking to realize that Vaduz actually has a smaller population than Campbell, the small working class suburb of Youngstown that I grew up in.

I ate lunch at a bakery/café and then walked down to the Vaduz cathedral (Cathedral of St. Florin). This Catholic church was built in 1874 on the foundation of a medieval church that used to be there. Roman Catholicism is the official religion of Liechtenstein (although freedom of religion exists here), and there is a special balcony box directly overlooking the altar where Prince Hans-Adam II and his family sit during Sunday mass.

After leaving the cathedral, I came to a series of pedestrian plazas, passing by government buildings and museums. Unfortunately, it was Monday and both the art museum and the National Liechtenstein Museum were closed. The Postal Museum was open, but I do not share Liechtensteiners’ well-documented fascination with stamps and all things postal, so I kept on walking. After checking out the visitor’s center, I started up the trail that leads to Vaduz Castle (Schloss Vaduz), where the royal family of Liechtenstein lives. From downtown Vaduz, you can see the castle high up on the hill overlooking the city. When I was there, it was undergoing preservation work, which meant that it was covered in scaffolding.

From street level, I could only see part of the castle and I was hoping that it was only that section that was being worked on. Unfortunately, as I found out a sweaty half-hour later, that was not the case. The entire outer walls of the castle were covered in scaffolding, which is why the castle isn’t my featured photo for this blog post.

Here are two photos of what the castle normally looks like, courtesy of Wikipedia. (I should note that all photos on this website are my own unless otherwise stated, with the exception of some obvious stock photos I used in my “Top 5 Travel Tips” post.)

I walked up the rather steep hillside trail hoping to see something like the second Wikipedia photo above, but I had to settle for this view instead:

I must admit I was a little disappointed, but I’m glad they’re going through this effort to preserve the castle. Vaduz Castle is a remarkable historic structure, dating back to the 12th century. It’s even more remarkable that this medieval landmark is still being lived in by the ruling family of Liechtenstein. You can walk right up to the thick medieval walls and know that somewhere on the other side is the prince’s sock drawer and Blu-Ray collection. Across from the castle is a public park with a great view of the city and the mountains. Beyond that, the national Liechtenstein Trail continues into the forest on its way to Triesenberg. After spending some time up here and seeing how close I could get to the gate without being yelled at by a security guard, I walked back down the hill to the city center.

Continuing down the pedestrian walkway I had been on earlier, I passed some interesting buildings and statues and an outdoor entertainment area that had everything from mini-golf to foosball to a shaded sandbox. I got a gelato and then I made my way to the bus stop.

Rather than going directly back to Malbun, I stopped in Triesenberg first. Malbun is actually technically part of the canton of Triesenberg even though there’s another canton in-between them. I don’t really understand how that works, but hey–Liechtensteiners gonna Lichtenstein.

At any rate, the town center of Triesenberg is tiny and sits on top of a mountain. One of the few buildings here is the Walser Museum, and I checked it out (for free with my Swiss Travel Pass). The Walser people are a distinct ethnic community that migrated from the Valais area of Switzerland (near Zermatt) to various locations in eastern Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Austria, and Germany around the 12th century. They speak a distinct dialect of German and have held on to their unique cultural identity over time. The modest museum featured a video and some photos and artifacts that told the story of the Walser community in Triesenberg.

Across the street from the museum is St. Joseph’s parish church. It was built in 1767 and has an interesting geometric shape with a belltower dome that looks more Eastern Orthodox than Roman Catholic. I visited the church, took in the view of the mountains, then took the bus back to my hotel.

My hotel had its own restaurant and I ate dinner on the sundeck, enjoying the view of the mountains.

A HIKER’S PARADISE

I spent the next day hiking. It was the only day during my entire trip that I didn’t get on a train or a bus. After breakfast, I took the adjacent ski-lift up to the top of Sareis mountain.

I have a weird relationship with heights. I’m not afraid to fly in a plane, stand on the edge of a cliff, or even ride in a gondola or cable car to really high-up places like the Matterhorn. But as jealous as I was of the numerous paragliders I saw soaring over the mountains in Switzerland, I could never bring myself to do that, or jump out of a plane, or go bungie jumping, rappelling, or ziplining. In-between these two categories of heights for me are ski lifts. The only other time I had ever been on a ski lift is in Siberia. I didn’t know until I got on that I would have to hold the metal bar down with my hands and feet to keep it from going up. The sense of personal responsibility for my own safety high above the ground terrified me. This time I knew what to expect, so I was able to prepare myself and manage my anxiety. I recited the Litany Against Fear from Dune and then started humming to distract myself. It was a longer ride to the top than I expected. I was relieved that I would be able to hike down instead of taking the ski lift again. But the view from the top was totally worth it.

On the ridge known as Sareisjoch, I could see a beautiful view of Malbun and the mountains that surround it on all sides like the walls of a stadium. From there, I climbed up some steps to the other side of the ridge, which faces east towards Austria. It was an awe-inspiring sight that greeted my eyes as I reached that side in the early morning light. Just across the border (presumably–I didn’t use a measuring tape), a hulking dark mountain range loomed in front of me, framed by clouds. The photo I took (bottom left in the gallery below this paragraph) truly does not do it justice. It was honestly far more impressive in person. Next to me, a rocky ridge trailed off to the left before disappearing into a layer of fog. I took in the view for a while, then walked back down the steps to the western side of Sareisjoch. From here, a trail began that hugged the ridge of the mountain range and offered a panoramic view of Malbun and the surrounding area.

After a short distance of easy, mostly flat hiking along the ridge, I came upon the Sareis resort, which has a restaurant and sundeck. It hadn’t been that long since I ate breakfast, so I didn’t stop here. From this point the trail forked off. The easy panoramic trail continued straight ahead, while the much more challenging Fürstin-Gina Weg (Princess Gina Trail–named after a former princess of Liechtenstein who enjoyed hiking in this area) branched off up and to the left. This eight mile trail continues to Austenberg and then onward to Pfälzer where there is a traditional mountain hut, before eventually winding its way back to Malbun. I had considered taking this trail, but it’s quite steep and difficult, with lots of rock scrambling involved. The official trail difficulty rating is only one step below the blue and white blazed alpine trails in Switzerland that only very experienced and physically fit mountaineers should attempt. I did walk for about 5 minutes up that trail just to see what it looked like around the bend, but ultimately, I stuck to the panoramic trail.

The panoramic trail was great, giving me unobstructed views of the whole area throughout the hike. After the trail curves around the Malbun valley, it gradually starts to go downhill. From here, there are a couple side trails to choose from. I stuck to the main path, which took me to the northern outskirts of Malbun–the opposite end from my hotel.

There is a little mountain church here called the Peace Chapel (Friedenskapelle), built in 1951 to give thanks for Liechtenstein being spared from the horrors of World War 2. Not surprisingly, the country with no army and less people than some individual city blocks in New York or Tokyo stayed neutral in the war. What is surprising is that they weren’t simply annexed by the Nazis like their much larger neighbor, Austria. Hitler did have a contingency plan called Operation Tannenbaum that called for an invasion of both Switzerland and Liechtenstein but for a variety of reasons he never carried it out. Unlike Switzerland, which was prepared to fight if they were invaded, it would be exceedingly easy to invade Liechtenstein. Remember, Switzerland did it by accident once! But there would have been little strategic advantage to annexing Liechtenstein if Switzerland remained independent. For not the first time in its history, Liechtenstein was able to stay independent by being too small and insignificant to notice. The truth is there were some Nazi sympathizers in Liechtenstein before and during the war (primarily but not exclusively immigrants from Germany), but the majority of the country, as well as the royal family, were committed to staying independent if they had any say in the matter.

The Peace Chapel is small and simple but pretty. It’s especially striking from the outside with the Alps behind it. After checking out the church, I walked down to the street and ate a tasty lunch of rösti (Swiss hash browns) and then continued on to a second hiking trail that starts near the Peace Chapel.

The Sassweg trail is a 3.2 mile loop. It goes through the mountains and there is some elevation gain but it’s a moderate difficulty level. The trail is beautiful and I later had a hard time narrowing down the large number of photos I took there. You can see for miles ahead and it’s just mountains and evergreen forest all the way to the horizon. There are free-roaming cows on the mountain and you have to go through some gates and turnstiles set up to keep them from wandering too far. Sometimes the cows were on or right next to the trail and some of them gave me the stink eye as I tiptoed around them and reminded myself that this is the same species of animal that gores matadors in Spain. I got some definite Dana Lyons “Cows With Guns” vibes from some of them. I made sure to inform them that I’m a vegetarian.

As I approached the end of the trail and descended back towards Malbun, the sound of cowbells grew louder. That sound is a constant background noise in Malbun and I had heard it all day long. You’d think it would get annoying after a while but it really didn’t. It was calming like the sound of wind chimes in the distance. But now the cowbells were louder than usual because I was walking past a fenced-in area where cows were being kept for breeding. I channeled my inner Christopher Walken from that SNL skit and played Blue Oyster Cult’s “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” on my phone as I hiked the final stretch past the cows. Yes, I actually did that–and no, I’m not proud of myself.

After walking back to my hotel, I ate a delicious dinner of pizokel, which is a meal of thick buckwheat pasta dumplings–a robust variation of a Swiss dish called spätzle. It was similar to Italian gnocci but also distinctly different. I wish I had thought to take a picture of it because it was probably my favorite meal of the entire trip.

The next morning I would leave Liechtenstein behind and return to Switzerland for one last adventure. I was headed to Appenzell, a part of eastern Switzerland steeped in rich cultural traditions and blessed with beautiful mountains and lakes. This would be my last stop before flying home to Baltimore. You can read all about it next Monday in my final blog post on Switzerland.

As always, thanks for reading and please share this blog post if you liked it. More photos from Liechtenstein are on display in the Photo Collection.