Liechtenstein, where!?

A day spent traipsing around Vaduz, the tiny capital of one of the least visited countries in the world—the Alpine microstate of Liechtenstein—is full of interesting little curiosities and serendipitous discoveries 

By Raul Dias

You are not alone if you are one of those people for whom the Principality of Liechtenstein seems like a made-up country in soppy, made-for-TV Hallmark movies with twee names like Aldovia, Belgravia, Genovia, etc. The kind where wide-eyed American girls fall in love with playboy princes of obscure European micro kingdoms. Places where everybody speaks perfect English in clipped British accents that would put the Queen of England’s to shame. And yes, while Liechtenstein does have its very own prince in the form of Hans-Adam II, the septuagenarian grandfather is far from a playboy and speaks in heavy Alemannic German-accented English.

But despite being one of the least visited countries in the world, the Alpine microstate does have more than a few curiosities that draw in the odd traveller every now and then. Not only is it Europe’s fourth smallest country (and the world’s sixth), but sandwiched between Switzerland and Austria, Liechtenstein is also one of the world’s only two double landlocked countries, with the other being Uzbekistan. Oh, and the country’s only billionaire is worth half the country’s GDP!

My tryst with Liechtenstein, however, was not born out of curiosity. More, necessity. Finding myself twiddling thumbs at the sterile, boring Zurich airport thanks to a 12-hour delay in a flight that was supposed to get me to sunny Lisbon, I paid heed to the advice of the kind lady manning the airport’s information kiosk. Looking at my Swiss rail pass, she suggested I hop into nearby Liechtenstein to kill time. For free. 

My rather expensive eight-day rail pass, she let me know, would not just get me into Vaduz, the tiny capital of Liechtenstein, but once there, I could even use the services of the local buses thanks to its validity there too. And so, with my big suitcase already checked in, all I had to do was strap on my day pack and get ready to tick another country, however obscure, off my list.

Size Matters 

With Sargans being the last railhead on the Swiss side, I soon hopped onto a Vaduz-bound bus that deposited me at the south end of Stadtle. This pedestrian-only ‘Golden Mile’ of Vaduz starts right in front of the grand National Museum building. But the very first structure that caught my attention and fancy was the rather modern and contemporary looking blond wood-clad Parliament Building that lies at the heart of the Peter-Kaiser-Platz square, just a stone’s throw from the Government Building. Perfectly tiny and in-keeping with the Lilliputian dimensions of Vaduz, the Parliament Building turned out to be a surprise for me when I found out from the Liechtenstein Centre for tourism that it was only in 2008 that this building, designed by the Munich-based architect Hansjörg Göritz, was inaugurated.

Speaking of size, Liechtenstein is so small that not only can the entire country be walked in six hours’ time from north to south (under two hours, east to west), but here the ‘milestones’ don’t show you the distance in miles or kilometers, but in the time that it would take you to walk from one place to another. In fact, right up to June 2020, Airbnb made it possible to rent the entire country of Liechtenstein for around $70,000 a night. I kid you not!

Of mains and sides

As it was almost lunch time, I sauntered into the rather Mediterranean-looking Torkel restaurant. It is situated in the princely vineyard called Herawingert, which has been in the possession of the Liechtenstein Royal Family since 1712. The medieval building, which originally served as a winemaking facility for the princely grapes, was converted into a restaurant in the 1960s and its interior is dominated by Europe’s largest wooden wine press.

My vegetarian main of a pasta-like cheese dish served with apple sauce, called käsknöpfle mit apfelmus came to my table with a side of some more trivia. All thanks to my Austrian server who told me that like himself, most of Liechtenstein’s work force comes in daily from neighbouring Austria and Switzerland. 

But that is not the only Swiss invasion to happen in a military force-bereft Liechtenstein, I soon learn. Apparently, Switzerland has managed to accidentally ‘invade’ Liechtenstein three times over the last three decades. And on two occasions, Liechtenstein want not even aware of what had happened! 

I paired my lunch with a crisp Chardonnay made from grapes grown at the rose pink painted Hofkellerei winery located on the same property as the restaurant and owned by Liechtenstein’s Prince Hans-Adam II. I was also told that the enterprising prince is the owner of the Texas-based GMO firm RiceTech that’s responsible for producing hybrid rice varieties like Texmati, which was in the news a few years ago for being the copycat patented version of our very own Indian Basmati.

Castle in the sky

But there is more to the Liechtenstein-India connection. Just like our Independence Day, Liechtenstein celebrates its National Day every year on the 15th of August. It is on this day that the Prince throws open the grand and almost fairytale-esque Vaduz Castle to all his citizens and guests whom he invites for a beer and pretzel garden party. Constructed as a fortress as early as the 12th century, before living quarters were added in 1287, it was only in 1939 that the then Prince moved in with his family and adopted Vaduz Castle as his official residence. 

Perched 120 meters high up on a misty hill and overlooking the entire city, the castle is quite a feat to get to. Trudging up the winding, hilly pathway, may have been a challenge, but the vista from the halfway Kanzeli viewpoint of both the city below and the castle above was enough to keep me at it. 

Although one is not allowed to enter the castle, the chatty groundskeeper I encountered did let me walk about its perimeter, sending me on my way with one last nugget of quirky Liechtensteiner trivia. Flashing me a bright, white smile he lets me know that his beloved Liechtenstein is the world’s number one manufacturer of false teeth. I will let you chew on that one…    

TRAVEL LOG

Getting There

As there is no airport in Vaduz (or in all of Liechtenstein for that matter!) one needs to fly in to Zurich, Switzerland and then take a one hour-long train ride from Zurich to the Swiss border town of Sargans and then a 40-minute bus ride from Sargans to Vaduz. There are direct flights from India to Zurich on Swiss Airlines. All of Vaduz is best enjoyed on foot, although there is a very efficient bus service in the city. Indian passport holders need a Schengen visa to enter Switzerland, and thus, by default, Liechtenstein. 

Stay

Tough your best bet is to stay in Zurich and take a day trip to Vaduz, there are a few, if a tad pricey, Swiss-style auberges and hotels to spend the night at if you so choose to stay in Vaduz. The butter-yellow painted Hotel Vaduzerhof offers a value-for-money stay (Rs 13,900 for two with breakfast, vaduzerhof.net) a mere 100 meters from Vaduz’s compact city center. Equally popular is Landhaus am Giessen (Rs 14,612 for two with breakfast, giessen.li), a cosy two-star hotel with room balconies overflowing with potted plants and flowers. 

Tip

* Liechtenstein is a great place to go hiking. One of the most popular hikes is the 12km “Fürstin Gina Weg” (Princess Gina Trail) from where one can enjoy a panoramic view of the Alps of Liechtenstein and Austria beyond.

(An edited version of this article first appeared in the 12th September 2020 issue of The Hindu Business Line newspaper's BLink section on page 20 https://www.thehindubusinessline.com/blink/takeaway/the-european-microstate-of-liechtenstein-is-the-sixth-smallest-country-of-the-world/article32576662.ece)

Like Pokémon Go, only not virtual

Are you an intrepid traveller? Prefer your treasure hunts to get real? Then Geocaching is for you

By Raul Dias

I have spent the better part of my innings as a food and travel writer hungrily chasing fads of every kind around the world for that elusive story. If that means foraging for discarded vegetables and fruits from a garbage bin outside a major supermarket chain in London with a group of ‘freegan’ Dumpster Divers, then so be it. I’ve schlepped my way, hefty suitcase in tow, changing three subway trains, to experience the thrill and stupidity of Couchsurfing for free at a stranger’s pied-à-terre in Manhattan’s hipster haven of The East Village and obviously lived to tell the tale.

So, a month ago, while the world and its pre-pubescent nephew were busy capturing the double-headed Doduo and its other monster comrades in the Augmented Reality world of Pokémon Go, I set off on the scent trail of a trend imbued with all the adventure and audaciousness the real world can throw at you. Finding myself on a day trip from Switzerland to the Alpine micro state of Liechtenstein, I decided to give geocaching a shot after hearing about it from a fellow backpacker.

Now, geocaching, for the uninitiated, is a sort of app-based ‘treasure hunt’ for travellers in which participants use GPS and other low-tech navigational aids, like tips from previous players, to seek out small containers called ‘geocaches’. Generally containing a small log book and a pen/ pencil, these geocaches are hidden at specific locations marked by coordinates around the world. Once found, the geocacher enters the date they found it and signs it with an established code name.

And no, I’m not telling you mine. My reticence has its underpinnings in the secret, almost Omertà-esque codes of Geocaching conduct, which also mandate that after signing the log, the cache be placed back exactly where the person found it. Also, photographing your find is frowned upon, lest one inadvertently reveal direct clues of its location via social media and thus spoil the thrill for other prospective seekers.

As I trudged through the hilly, mist-shrouded slopes of Vaduz, tiny Liechtenstein’s proportionally diminutive capital, the Geocaching app on my smartphone was barely registering a blip. Then, all of a sudden, as I exited the north end of Stadtle, the pedestrian-only ‘Golden Mile’ of Vaduz, towards the quaint village of Mitteldorf, the nifty ‘you’re getting warmer!’ banner furiously flashed on my phone screen. Swiftly walking, nay running, along Mitteldorf’s cobblestoned main street, I turned the corner on to the vineyard-lined Hintergass Street, all the while paying deferential respect to my GPS’s better judgement. And then, there it was.

Somewhere between the strangely Mediterranean-looking Torkel restaurant that’s situated in the Liechtenstein Royal Family’s vineyard called Herawingert, and the Prince’s very own winery, Hofkellerei, was the treasure. Hidden under a couple of flat stones resting at the base of the trunk of a rather forlorn-looking beech tree, one of the many on the estate, the nondescript Tupperware-type box was akin to the Holy Grail for me. Not sure if I’d be arrested for trespassing, vandalism, royal espionage (or a combination of all three), I quickly lifted the lid, pulled out the log book, and entered my details. Finding other knick-knacks like keychains, stamps and even a large plastic coat button (!?) in the box, I decided to add to the seeker-sponsored travel detritus by throwing in a shiny new five-rupee coin that I found in the recesses of my wallet. Putting the box back just like I found it, and happy to do so undetected, I slunk out of the vineyard, ready for my next mission…

Now, back home in Mumbai, the Geocaching app alerts me to a cache in Mahim Nature Park, an arboreal green lung of the city, not too far from where I am. And I have every intention of seeking it out. Soon. But in the meanwhile, I have a rather elusive Vaporeon à la Pokémon Go to enslave.

(This article first appeared in the 7th August 2016 issue of The Hindu newspaper, India http://www.thehindu.com/features/magazine/Like-Pok%C3%A9mon-Go-only-not-virtual/article14555223.ece)