Discovering Oybin: Saxony`s Medieval Stronghold
GermanyVisiting the castle by car, then coming back, wouldn't be too much fun. So instead, I've planned a little hike that would have concluded our 2025 summer. The "Kelchstein – Oybin Rock and Castle Ruins loop from Luftkurort Lückendorf" Komoot Route seemed to be a good option to take with the family, as it stretched for just about 3km and requires only an intermediate fitness level.
We left the hotel on the Czech side and crossed the border on Saturday morning. The sky was cloudy, so I was a bit afraid of getting our feet wet, as the grass was still filled with water after the night's rain. As the route proposed, we began our walk in a small town called Lückendorf on the German side, located literally a few steps from the border line.
The parking was surprisingly empty and was also free of charge. Next to the parking, there was a bus stop with a small monument commemorating the now lost Karlsfried castle, built in 1357 and gradually demolished in 1442, 1690, and 1721.
A certain number of stones from the castle were reused as raw materials to construct the Lückendorfer church, while the others were taken to Zittau. That was typical for that period; people still knew how to do masonry right, and the castle was just another castle; no one bothered counting them at that time.
The route started right by the church, and a massive building, apparently the largest one in town, is now abandoned. That's the FDGB Ferienheim (holiday home) "Kretscham", closed after the fall of the DDR and never reopened. Judging by the labels on the windows, at least some part of the building was still in use up to a certain point as a store, but then eventually shut down for good.
The dismantling of the DDR and the reunification of Germany certainly had its drawbacks, causing many otherwise well-kept facilities to fall into oblivion.
Next to the abandoned building was an equally desolate playground, apparently from the same period.
This can easily be the case, judging by the size of the trees that grew up next to the table tennis.
While walking up hill through Lückendorf, we've noticed lovely small houses standing on each side of the road. What was special about them was that they followed a certain construction technique, in which part of the timber frame protrudes beyond the outer walls on the ground floor, forming a peculiar wooden arcade.
That's the famous local historical building technique, called "Umgebindehaus" (half-timbered house). Long story short, it's basically a mix of a log house surfaced from the slavic period, and a wooden frame house from the germans, who came later. It was an attempt to retain the block house style, but also build a second floor using the "new" (for that time) technology. Essentially, the second floor and the roof rest on the outer wooden frame, while the inner walls of the first floor form a completely separated structure. Cool, huh?
This technique is also observed on the Czech side of the region.
At some point, I saw something that looked like two segments of the Berlin Wall. Such segments are still seen here and there, sometimes left as monuments. There aren't many segments of the Berlin Wall still standing today, and I have heard that even after so many years, and also given the historical importance, they nevertheless keep falling victim to city development from time to time.
Upon being dismantled, some of them end up in places like this, after being purchased and used for the needs of a private household.
On the edge of the town, another victim of the DDR's collapse stood. That was the Kurhaus Lückendorf, the famous resort and spa from the socialist period. After the regime fell, everyone suddenly decided to venture out into the big new world now opened for exploration, so people's interest in the Kurhaus waned soon after.
The building has stood still for more than 30 years now, open to all the wind and weather. The fact that Kurhaus is a listed building gives additional complications to its fate, facing strict regulations regarding the use and restoration of the building.
Halfway between Lückendorf and Oybin there was another tourist attraction, this time built by nature. That was the Kelchstein, a natural rock formation that resembles a huge stone goblet.
Such a landscape is common in the entire region (most prominently seen in the Saxon Switzerland National Park), formed by the erosion and weathering of the rock.
Soon after we cleared the forest, Kurort Oybin appeared in front of us.
The very first thing I've noticed was the fact that lots of buildings had slate roofs, even the modern ones, and even a tourist information center.
This construction material is considered to be quite expensive in other regions, and yet here it was on every other building. From what I understood, there was no deposit of the material nearby. Another reason would be that in the newer building, an imitation of the natural slate was used, which turns out to be much cheaper. It was hard to tell from a distance.
The goal of our walk was already seen from afar.
But before storming the castle, we had to go for a lunch break.
So we did that, only to discover that most of the restaurants had the "NO CARD" sign on the door. Ah, typical Germany, apparently, the progress hasn't reached this region yet. Luckily, we had 30 bucks on us, and we stopped by the local restaurant where we could buy some simple dishes.
The building is said to be the oldest residential one in town, dating back to the 17th century. On the Internet, I've seen certain speculations that it was originally an administrative building for the monastery, but something doesn't add up, because the date on the facade reads as 1720 or 1770, and the monastery ceased to exist after the Reformation.
Anyway. Maybe the date doesn't reflect the year the building was actually constructed, so I was sold on the idea. I really liked the way the building cuts into the rocky mountain slope, which is clearly seen in the interior.
The doorway had a funny foot mat that read "Resign immediately". The opposition sentiments are apparently quite strong in this region.
When I asked them where the toilet was, I was given a key to a small room upstairs. The men's toilet had a blue key ring, and the ladies' one was red.
Funny enough, but the key ring was actually the Dulo-Dulo, a Philippine weapon.
Perhaps the owners were unaware that it was a weapon? Maybe I should erase what I just wrote and flee the country? 🫠
Oybin itself has a few remarkable examples of the half-timbered houses.
From what I've read about the technology, the first (living) floor of the building traditionally should expose the logs. Sometimes people cover it with plaster or even plastic siding, which directly impacts the look of the building and brings the repair date much closer.
The level of craftsmanship is quite impressive.
