Liechtenstein

Liechtenstein was one of those places I almost skipped — it's tiny, wedged between Austria and Switzerland, and I wasn't sure there was enough to fill even a day. I'm glad I went. Vaduz is quiet in the way that only very small capitals can be: clean streets, almost no traffic noise, and the castle sitting up on the cliff watching everything below. The Alps press right up against the town from both sides, so wherever you stand, there's a wall of grey rock and green forest closing in the horizon.

I got a tourist stamp in my passport at the little tourist office — Liechtenstein is one of the few countries that still does this, for a small fee, and I thought it was worth it just as a keepsake. They also sell the princely estate's own Pinot Noir, Herawingert, right there. I bought a bottle, sat with it near the Vaduzer Hof on the main strip, and watched the afternoon light go orange on the yellow facade. Nothing was open particularly late and nothing was particularly cheap, but that wasn't the point.

The best moment was finding the old wooden covered bridge at the Swiss border — you're literally straddling two countries inside it, with the country signs right there on the post. Coming from Kathmandu, where borders feel heavy and complicated, crossing into a country on foot through a wooden bridge felt almost absurd in the best way. Liechtenstein took me about four hours to see properly and I think that's exactly right.