Latitude: 47.2° north
Weather: -2, 🌤️ Sunrise: 07:57 Sunset: 17:11
Today’s post is all about the joy of the unexpected. I’d read that the Arlberg rail route west from Innsbruck was particularly scenic, so we plotted a route to Switzerland heading that way. We found an apartment in Feldkirch – a town which looked like it might have a nice medieval centre but, if my internet research was anything to go by, probably not a lot else there. Absolutely fine for a gentle stop-over.
The train ride was indeed fantastic. More dramatic than previous days in the size and scale of the scenery around us – although I felt that passing through on a high speed train meant I had less sense of connection to the landscape, maybe because it’s harder to see the small details that help to make a landscape feel alive. Instead – drama: forbidding rocky giants rising up from a deep valley, the river Inn racing through below.
We passed through a valley that looked like everything had been flash frozen, ground and vehicles and fences coated in thick white icing right up to the point where the sun must hit, where everything suddenly turned green again. Soon the train line pulled higher up the mountainside until we were perched precariously above a steep drop to the river far below, trees disappearing vertically beneath us.
We arrived into Feldkirch station and were immediately confounded. I’d expected a small, sleepy station on the outskirts of an equally small, sleepy town. What we found was a big, modern, bustling station leading to a busy main road, lined with grand villas and huge municipal buildings. We walked the 15 minutes into the old town, crossed the road and followed cobbles into a pretty old town square. Cafes and bars under porticos, a statue in the middle of the cobbled square and, perched on the hill above, a stunning castle.
Rucksacks gratefully deposited in tonight’s studio flat, we set out to explore before we lost the last of the light. What we found was a medieval town centre alive and vibrant with smart, up-market bars and restaurants. Locals out in force for Friday evening drinks and food, tables already full of people with wine glasses, small restaurants packed with diners.
When we’d looked at Feldkirch in advance, I’d been worried about finding somewhere to eat and we’d decided to take a studio flat and cook in. That idea was dropped in a second and we instead spent a happy couple of hours in a gorgeous Italian deli, sharing antipasti and drinking Franciacorta. Warm, friendly service and a sense that – in January at least – we were a welcome novelty as non-locals.
We only had a few hours to explore Feldkirch before we needed to move on the next morning. We headed out relatively early and found the town waking up slowly under a soft, misty day which was starting to burn off into sunshine. The light warmed the ancient buildings, making the squares extra-pretty with their pastel colours and lovely arches.
We wandered to the river: next set of surprises. On the opposite bank from the ancient towers of the medieval town – a huge, imposing courthouse with what looked like prison cells on one end. We walked along the river bank and looped back into town to switch the forbidding for the everyday – a Saturday market on the main square, locals arriving to buy fruit and veg, a gentle bustle around us.
We walked through the market stalls, resisting the temptation of some amazing-looking cheese, and through a small alley from the top of the square into another contrast. A wide open plaza with a huge, modern concert/events hall in the centre. Glass, curved concrete, stunning and modern. Far beyond the scale of what we had expected to find in this supposedly small town.
Obviously, coffee needed to be next. We settled on Momo coffee – and it was obvious we’d made a good choice when we took the last two stools in the house, perched at a tiny shelf-table. The cafe was alive with people meeting for Saturday coffee. A steady stream of walkers came in for takeaway. The Danish pastries were clearly a local favorite – no sooner did a fresh tray arrive from the oven than they were snapped up and sold out in seconds. It was small, happy, friendly – and the coffee was great, so we indulged in a second cup before going out to finish our walk.
Final stop on this tiny tour of the town was a walk up to the Schattenburg castle. Built in the 13th century, it sits fabulously on the hillside overlooking the town, white towers set against the dark trees. From the castle, a superb view back across the rooftops of the old town, the ancient towers and church spires standing out from the packed roofs. Beyond – the mountains of Liechtenstein and Switzerland.
We work hard to try to get under the skin of each new place that we arrive in, and I usually find that it’s possible to get a reasonable sense of what makes a place tick if you do your research and visit with the right kind of open mind. Feldkirch has me stumped. A beautifully preserved medieval centre, surrounded by the kind of huge municipal and grand buildings fitting for a much, much bigger town. Something that surprises you at almost every turn, the contrast between the new, the old, the functional and the grand changing exactly where you wouldn’t expect. The kind of smart bars and upmarket shops you’d expect to see in a large, wealthy town. A medieval town centre that’s so perfectly preserved with its towers, churches, gates and walls that it must be ripe for tourist visits – but a strong sense that everyone we saw out and about was local. A town that’s both ancient and yet utterly alive and modern.
I left with a spring in my step that wasn’t wholly down to the two coffees. It’s so good to have preconceptions challenged and be reminded that there’s no substitute for being somewhere and exploring it for yourself. The genuine privilege of travel with the freedom and time to end up somewhere random to see what happens.
