I can’t say for sure, but I assume that the Berggasthaus Aescher-Wildkirchli is the most photographed mountain inn in Switzerland. Ever since it was featured on the cover of National Geographic’s book ‘Places of a Lifetime’ and Ashton Kutscher shared an article about the inn on facebook its popularity has skyrocketed.

This worldwide fame is quite an honour actually, because as I’ve mentioned in another post they’ve got plenty more inns than trails here, and in stunning locations at that. At the very latest, when you’re researching hiking locations in Eastern Switzerland close to the Liechtenstein border, you’ll stumble across photos and articles about this small wooden chalet clinging precariously to a sheer rock face. We couldn’t wait to see it ourselves.

On a gorgeous mid-October day, the two parking lots at the lower cable car station in Wasserauen were already bursting at the seams when we arrived at 10 am. With winter just around the corner, everyone was worried this might possibly be the last sunny weekend for a while and seemed to have chosen the tiny but unbelievably pretty Canton of Appenzell Inner-Rhodes to enjoy the outdoors.

A couple of hundred cars spoke of awfully crowded trails, but as so often much fewer people actually hiked than went up by cable car.

We headed back 1.5km to an almost empty parking area in Schwende and started off towards the trailhead halfway back to Wasserauen. In retrospect, parking in Schwende and walking up the valley was a fabulous idea because of the beautiful panorama.

The sloping hillsides – forest ablaze with the vibrant colours of Indian Summer and bathed in the sunshine to the right of the valley, and to the left, barren, shaded rock face – formed a V-shape against the backdrop of snow-capped peaks and the gondola, a tiny red speck, whizzing up and down the mountainside.

The opening stretch of the route takes you on a steady climb along switchbacks through the woods until after 20 minutes, the trail emerges into open undulating grassland speckled with chalets. Next to the upper cable car station, Ebenalp at 1644m, paragliders were meticulously spreading their kites on the ground. If you’d rather not climb 723m in elevation, the gondola will take you up here from Wasserauen in six minutes.

Hiking in the mountains can be monotonous at times because even the most spectacular landscapes lack the colour of city trips – the brightly coloured shop windows, electronic advertising panels, painted house facades, and bustling crowds. I’m not saying that I prefer cities to the outdoors, but I first had to learn to appreciate the subtle nuances in the limited palette of grey, blue, and green that characterize high altitudes before I came to love the mountains.

Today though the mountain scenery was surprisingly colourful thanks to the large number of gliders floating effortlessly across the sky.

Just above the station, the patio of the Ebenalp mountain inn was packed with a hungry crowd devouring huge portions of hearty Swiss fare like Älplermagronen (whoever thought of combining pasta, potatoes, cheese, and cream garnished with fried bacon and onion must have been starving). I fully agree that you’re much hungrier out in the open and hiking than sitting at home. I know I am. But the serving sizes in mountain inns are simply astonishing.

I once ordered a piece of apple sheet cake with cream and was served the equivalent of a cake – a whole cake. Not that I noticed that right away because when the huge plate arrived all I saw was whipped cream. A mountain of it actually that looked like the snow-covered Jungfraujoch we’d just visited that day.

I like whipped cream very much but by the time I finally uncovered the cake I felt just a little queasy. We continued along the ridgeline across the grass plateau and just before descending on a steep zigzagging trail skirting an imposing rock face, admired the rich scenery of the Alpstein massif area. The Seealpsee (Seealp Lake) lay nestled at the bottom of a narrow cleft and was hemmed in by sheer walls of rock and gently rising forested slopes. High rising snow-covered peaks were visible in the distance.

After a sharp bend at the bottom of the twisting descent, the trail wound back towards the direction of Ebenalp but 200m lower in elevation, skirting the barren cliffs that rose vertically to our left. When we came upon a wooden inn decorated with the traditional wooden shingles snuggling into the hillside, its tiny terrace crowded with hikers and parasols, I was a little surprised. Tobi had announced this to be the famous Berggasthaus Aescher-Wildkirchli, but the chalet looked nothing like the photos I had seen.

The large number of people milling about however told of a place close by worthy of attention and so we crossed the terrace and continued on the trail. After a few steps, Tobi tapped me on the shoulder, ‘Look back’. It was the inn after all, but there’s only one famous facade of the Berggasthaus Aescher and we had approached from the wrong direction to recognize it right away. Whereas the trails hadn’t been busy, the meadow stretching alongside the trail was littered with hikers having lunch and bathing in the sun as much as the view.

We retraced our steps alongside the escarpment until a trail leading towards Seebodenalp forked off to the left and a sign warned of a steep, dangerous descend, even asking for ‘Kinder mit Leine sichern’ (put your kids on a leash). We don’t have kids so I’m probably not the best person to offer an opinion, but I thought the warning sign was slightly exaggerating the difficulty and danger of the trail.

It descends over switchbacks on rocky steps and was certainly somewhat steep in parts but never exposed and all steep sections were secured with ropes for comfort rather than necessity. Most of the downhill section was forested so it was rather a surprise when we suddenly emerged onto a wide, level path. From there, the Seealpsee at 1143m and the best panorama along the route yet were only a stone’s throw away.

The steep cliffs shielded half of the lake from the low sun and reflected off the surface in the abstract shape of black paper cuttings. Where the sun touched the water, the scenery was mirrored in colour: green alpine meadows, autumn coloured wood reaching down to the lakeshores, rugged barren rock face, and the peak of Säntis flecked with patches of snow. It made me think of paintings I did in Kindergarten, when you fold a piece of paper in half, open it, and splatter watercolour blobs on one side. Then you fold your paper again, open it once more and voila, a perfect mirror image.

Two trails lead back to Wasserauen, the shorter option, a sealed road is signposted as 50min, the longer trail meanders through the southeastern side of the valley via Hüttentobel and took us 55min.