Thande
Donor
Part #203: The Minnows Amid the Whales
“Sorry, the Ministry has called me back again about those documents, blast them—can you pick up Angie from savat coreen practice this once? Remember you take the second exit on the circus at Sutton and then it’s on the right just past the second set of stop-and-goes. Last week she told me she was ready to take the test for the Vert certificate, ask her if she got it, AW? Thanks love. DBH.”
*
From “Idlewild’s European Tours with a Difference” by Sarah Idle (2015)
For those consumed with ennui by the capitals of Europe and other overdone tourist spots, a must-see alternative is our tour of the Microstates of Europe. Although microstates—sovereign states with a very small population and land area that have survived through historical accident or curious machinations—can be found to some degree on every continent, Europe’s history has tended to bequeath the fourth smallest continent[1] with an overabundance of them. The number that can be found today is nonetheless a big fall from its height: two hundred years or so ago in 1794, Germany—as the Holy Roman Empire—had over 300 of them. Waves of conquests and annexations (known as mediatisations) followed in the Jacobin Wars and reduced the number of German-speaking states to less than a dozen. However, some few true microstates have survived in Europe, and even those that are now ruled as part of larger powers sometimes retain some of their earlier quirky charm and character. Perhaps the defining characteristic of a microstate is a sense of self-importance out of proportion to the nation’s actual relevance on the world stage, which in other circumstances might be comical or absurd but to the jaded traveller can take on a charm of its own. Microstates should be distinguished from small states, which are considerably larger, but some of these will also be covered here as they are included on our tours.
We will begin with a short review of the microstates Idlewild offers tours to (or as stops on our Grand Tour of Microstates); further details including hotel arrangements can be found under the appropriate entry in Section B.
1. ‘True’ Microstates
Man. The Republic of Man was formerly the seat of its own kingdom that included many isles now part of the Kingdom of Scotland. This kingdom was possibly founded by the Vikings, though the historical record is scant and additionally confused by propagandists in Scandinavia, Scotland and Ireland. The kingdom was part of Norway for some years, became divided, and then its constituent parts were acquired by Scotland in the thirteenth century. The Isle of Man itself was contested between England and Scotland, eventually becoming a feudal tributory to the former in the fifteenth century. It retained its position even through the English Civil War but then the actions of the English dictator Bloody Blandford in the Popular Wars led to a devastating attack on the island known as the Rape of Man. Following Blandford’s overthrow, Man voted to sever ties with the English crown and became a republic in 1840. Since that time it has survived and prospered in part due to becoming a successful holiday destination for travellers from England, Scotland, Ireland and occasionally Scandinavia, but it still remains largely undiscovered for those outside the British Isles.
The Republic of Man has a population of approximately 100,000 (not counting transient holidaymakers). it is ruled by the Tynwald, which claims to be the oldest continually operating parliament in the world (with a claimed founding date of 979, over a thousand years ago). The Tynwald meets in Tynwald House in the capital of Douglas, which is open to the public at weekends (book a tour in advance to avoid disappointment). All government buildings and the small Manx Militia force fly a special blue-edged version of the distinctive Manx triskelion (three legs) flag, while the solidly red version is the one used by ordinary members of the public.
Man’s isolation has led to it being a popular destination for writers and others trying to escape distractions. Snaefell, the island’s only mountain, is home to a number of holiday lodges. On the other hand, the isle has also been opened to more rambunctious forms of tourism. Having a single road circuit around the island plus the Tynwald’s relaxed attitude to speed limits means the island is effectively closed every six months to play host to both mobile and autoceleripede races. The locals sometimes complain but the races do add a lot to the island’s economy. The other more raucous form of tourism on the island was the brainchild of one Aalin Clucas als Shimmin, a wealthy much-travelled widow who connected the island’s punnable name with the then contemporary growth of the individual-thinking ‘Cytherean Woman’ in the neighbouring countries, especially England. Although over a century has passed since the first “Come to Man to Find a Man” campaign and young English women and men no longer have to escape from the eyes of watchful chaperones to find love quite so much, tradition has kept the holidays still going strong. In order for the often controversial Clucas Breaks not to impinge on the island’s otherwise quiet and idyllic image, they are restricted to the town of Laxey, which has been developed into a resort shaped around the unique needs of the tourists in question.
Don’t forget to check out the wildlife, either – Man has something to offer even the most committed townie, with its cats with too few appendages and its sheep with too many. The tourist board is by this point fed up of issuing denials concerning the accident at the Kearney paradox engine in Ireland, so don’t make any smart remarks about it. Suffice to say that Man has had these unusual creatures for long before Jean Bouvard ever thought to try banging bits of sub-threshold xanthium together.
Another thing that has been going on a long time is attempts to preserve the Manx language, a unique Celtic tongue. At one point the number of native speakers had diminished to less than a hundred, but a government programme to teach pupils bilingually, eventually backed by Diversity money from the ASN, means that most islanders are now fluent. Note that Man also has its own distinctive dialect of English, but the vast majority of Manxmen and –women can also switch to London English: after all, you can’t sell things to tourists if you can’t speak to them. The Manx language may be incomprehensible to much of the world but is is also beautiful. Try to attend one of the poetry readings that one can find at many of the pubs and inns – incongruously in between the rather raucous folk music of the island or modern dry ice bands...
Elba. The Republic of Elba has a more recent history than many microstates. Much of its history consists of being fought over either because of its strategic location or its iron ore deposits. Modern Elba takes in not only the island itself but also the neighbouring isles of the so-called Tuscan Archipelago including Capraia, Giglio, Pianosa, Montecristo, Gorgona and Giannutri. Collectively the republic has a population of about 35,000, not counting transient tourists. It is known for its vineyards, its beautiful scenery and in particular Mount Capanne on Elba proper. It has a unique dialect of Tuscan, although Roman Italian is also spoken there. It remains an associate member of the League of the Isles but has rejected joining the Tyrrhenian Union outright. Elba was first separated from Italy when...
(This page rendered illegible by what appears to be a red wine stain)
...also known as Dubrovnik. Eighty thousand citizens now dwell in the tiny republic which has survived through an accident of history. Originally founded as a refuge for Roman/Byzantine refugees fleeing the barbarian-destroyed city of Epidaurum (today known as Cavtat, derived from the Latin Civitas Vetus or ‘old city’), Ragusa has defied the odds of history to exist for almost one and a half thousand years. Its survival has been accomplished largely by its rulers, the Rectors (an office also known as Rettore in Italian and Knez in Croatian) successfully playing off the huge surrounding powers against one another. This was sufficiently effective that Ragusa has survived even while those powers have risen, fallen and been replaced. The twentieth century seemed to be a time of particular peril for the republic as most of its neighbours for once became part of the same power bloc, but Ragusa was saved by its unique fusion of Italian and Croatian culture which led to a desire by ideological Diversitarians to defend it. This defence tided the nation over until Vienna and Constantinople (as we may now once again call them) split over the revisionism controversy. Today Ragusa has much less of a feel of an armed camp and is fully open once again to tourism. Though full democracy came to the republic in the late nineteenth century when it joined the League of the Isles, the trappings of the old mediaeval state are retained and the elected ruler is still called the Rector. Besides those who enjoy seeing such a collision of history and present day, the beautiful Dalmatian sea coast is well worth a visit for sun worshippers.
2. Microstates ‘in heart’ now titular parts of larger nations
Andorra. Though currently part of the Kingdom of France, a planned referendum in 2017 seems likely to restore full independence to this small state (population approx 80,000). Andorra has a complex history. It claims to be the last surviving remnant of the Marca Hispanica (Spanish March), the militarised buffer states set up by Charlemagne and his contemporaries to protect Christian France from then-Islamic-ruled Spain. Charlemagne’s grandson Charles the Bald granted Andorra to the Count of Urgell, whose descendant in turn passed it on to the Diocese of Urgell (headed by the Bishop of Urgell). In the eleventh century the Bishop put himself under the protection of the Catalan Lord of Caboet, a title later inherited by the Count of Foix. Andorra was disputed between the Count and Bishop until 1278 when a Solomonic treaty shared the sovereignty of Andorra between the two offices as equal co-princes.
This peculiar form of government has generally persisted despite repeated abolitions and restorations, of which the current direct rule by France can be considered just another historical aberration (albeit longer-lasting than most). In time the county of Foix became acquired by first the Kings of Navarre and then, when that in turn was subsumed by the House of Bourbon under Henri IV of France, the Kings of France. The two co-princes then therefore henceforth became the Bishop of Urgell and the King of France.
Andorra was briefly directly annexed to the Crown of Aragon twice (in 1396 and then again in 1512-1513), was conquered by the French Latin Republic during the Jacobin Wars and then again became part of Aragon during the Watchful Peace. It was restored after the Popular Wars, helped by a popular uprising by its people, and the old co-principality was recreated. When Spain fell under a French king following the Great American War, Andorra became a useful tax haven and watering hole for illicit interests seeking refuge from the increasingly closely aligned kingdoms of France and Spain. In this respect it survived and prospered for decades and many of Andorra la Vella’s more impressive modern buildings date from this time, the so-called Edat d’or or Golden Age. However, the state was caught up in the upheavals of the early twentieth century and this ultimately led to French military occupation that became annexation. Andorra’s unique culture might have been extinguished had it not been for Diversitarian values. As it is, with the original reasons behind the annexation having departed, there has long been a campaign to restore Andorra’s independence. The only stumbling blocks have been from those who wish Andorra to become part of Catalonia and those who claim that now Navarre is an independent kingdom again, the co-principality should be held by the Navarrese king rather than the French. However it seems likely that Andorra will vote for a restoration of the pre-1920s status quo in 2017. Due to Andorra’s mountainous character and lack of arable land, however, it will doubtless remain dependent on trade with its neighbours to feed itself. At present the old governing palace, Casa de la Vella, is a museum – it remains unclear if it will be reopened for its original purpose or if a modern building will be built if Andorra votes for independence.
Though Andorra’s particular laws and customs have suffered somewhat due to direct French rule, the city-state is still a worthy tourist destination. Its many impressive Pyrenean ski resorts are an intriguing alternative to the better known Alpine ones of the Bernese Republic and the surrounding countries. Those fond of lakes and mountains breaks will not be disappointed by the scenery and there are many impressive ancient churches in isolated spots, reflecting the area’s heritage as a Christian bulwark against Islamic Spain. Andorra la Vella is also home to one of Europe’s biggest spa resorts.
Liechtenstein. Though long part of Germany, Liechtenstein’s isolation means that it is perhaps the exemplar of retaining the old Holy Roman Empire microstate character. Indeed, even when there were three hundred states and more in Germany, Liechtenstein still stood out for being ridiculously small (based on the old borders the modern region would have a population of just thirty-five thousand). Though the now ceremonial feudal ruler has been demoted to Duke from Prince, the people of Liechtenstein retain a fiercely independent character and a desire to stand out from the crowd. They certainly achieve that, which oddities such as their small former state being home to the world’s largest manufacturer of false teeth and tourists only being allowed to ski the slope on Mount Alpspitz if they are capable of reciting the German alphabet backwards.[2] Liechtenstein’s chief virtue is its isolation for those tourists who so desire that while (unlike similar regions in the Bernese Republic) still being covered by pan-German institutions whose absence can cause problems for travellers from some countries. Otherwise, only for the true microstate enthusiast.
Rome. Though the Roman Republic only had a brief existence as a fully independent state, it claims heritage from the old Papal States (as a secularised successor) and ultimately from the original Roman Republic that became the Roman Empire. As a capital city of a major European power, Rome may be a strange choice to find on a list like this, but its microstate character requires a little digging to uncover—an adventure well worth its prize...
(Half a page torn out here)
...of St John still retain a presence there, but their direct involvement in governance now belongs to the past. Malta is naturally also home to the Assembly of Sovereign Nations’ Global Health Taskforce, whose headquarters in Valletta are open to the public and well worth a visit.
3. States too large to be ‘microstates’ but which may also appear on the tour
Navarre. The modern Kingdom of Navarre is generally considered to be the homeland of the Basque people, whose origins—and that of their unique language—remain somewhat shrouded in mystery. At some points in history Navarre also included many Gascons, but their lands are now mostly part of the Kingdom of France. Navarre came into existence in the ninth century, being born from lands that had never been conquered by the Franks or the Spanish Visigoths. The original Basque-ruled kingdom was divided between French and Spanish rulers, with the hereditary kingship of Navarre eventually becoming one of the titles of the King of France. An independent Navarre was recreated after the Jacobin Wars under the Lithuanian nobleman Adam Konstanty Czartoryski. This Navarre lacked some of the historical Navarrese lands and also included more Gascon territory that had formerly been French. This situation was righted by the upheavals in the Popular Wars, which saw Navarre expand at the expense of the Spanish kingdoms while losing most of its Gascon inhabitants—who had been angered by Adam Konstanty’s decision to embrace a purely Basque identity for his kingdom—to the French. Originally set up as a Russian puppet state in the west (giving the Russian navy access to an Atlantic port, the capital of Bayonne), the Russians lost influence after the Popular Wars and then were replaced with the French after a brief period of balance of power in Navarre. Navarre has remained closely aligned with France ever since, both through the long period of France and Spain being close and then the age of the Pyrenees ‘once again becoming the frontier of civilisation’. Navarre’s embrace and revival of Basque traditions makes it an intriguing holiday destination...
(The other side of the torn out half a page)
...but to remain in Palma de Mallorca as many do is to ignore the potential of the other islands. The Balearic Republic has a population of over one million, all of whom are keen to make you feel at home.
Sicily. The Sicilian Republic is home to five million people, all of whom (based on recent referenda) cannot make up their minds on whether they want their country to rejoin Italy or integrate into the Tyrrhenian Union. Not to mention the small minority who want the island to embrace its distant Greek past and paint all post-Punic Wars settlements of the island as Un-Sicilian! While they sort out their political problems, the rest of us can enjoy the island’s glorious scenery, including the imposing peak of the volcano Mount Etna, the architecture of Palermo, the beaches of Trapani and the collision of history and modernity that is the capital Syracuse...
(The rest of this book appears to be missing, but the surviving contents page indicates that other countries it would have covered include the Bernese Republic, Greece, Scotland and Courland)
[1] This timeline appears to use a different definition of continent in the present day (or at least the books currently examined indicate this, opinions may of course differ). The atlases divide the world into nine continents: Europe, Asia, Africa, North America, South America, Antipodea, Nusantara (sometimes called the Malay Archipelago in OTL, and sometimes including Japan and Madagascar but not consistently between atlases), Pacifica (all the islands of the Pacific, including New Zealand and Hawaii) and Australia (confusingly, our Antarctica).
[2] The first of these is one of those allohistorical coincidences, as it is also true in OTL.
“Sorry, the Ministry has called me back again about those documents, blast them—can you pick up Angie from savat coreen practice this once? Remember you take the second exit on the circus at Sutton and then it’s on the right just past the second set of stop-and-goes. Last week she told me she was ready to take the test for the Vert certificate, ask her if she got it, AW? Thanks love. DBH.”
—From the Correspondence of Bes. David Batten-Hale (New Doradist Party--Croydon Urban)
*
From “Idlewild’s European Tours with a Difference” by Sarah Idle (2015)
For those consumed with ennui by the capitals of Europe and other overdone tourist spots, a must-see alternative is our tour of the Microstates of Europe. Although microstates—sovereign states with a very small population and land area that have survived through historical accident or curious machinations—can be found to some degree on every continent, Europe’s history has tended to bequeath the fourth smallest continent[1] with an overabundance of them. The number that can be found today is nonetheless a big fall from its height: two hundred years or so ago in 1794, Germany—as the Holy Roman Empire—had over 300 of them. Waves of conquests and annexations (known as mediatisations) followed in the Jacobin Wars and reduced the number of German-speaking states to less than a dozen. However, some few true microstates have survived in Europe, and even those that are now ruled as part of larger powers sometimes retain some of their earlier quirky charm and character. Perhaps the defining characteristic of a microstate is a sense of self-importance out of proportion to the nation’s actual relevance on the world stage, which in other circumstances might be comical or absurd but to the jaded traveller can take on a charm of its own. Microstates should be distinguished from small states, which are considerably larger, but some of these will also be covered here as they are included on our tours.
We will begin with a short review of the microstates Idlewild offers tours to (or as stops on our Grand Tour of Microstates); further details including hotel arrangements can be found under the appropriate entry in Section B.
1. ‘True’ Microstates
Man. The Republic of Man was formerly the seat of its own kingdom that included many isles now part of the Kingdom of Scotland. This kingdom was possibly founded by the Vikings, though the historical record is scant and additionally confused by propagandists in Scandinavia, Scotland and Ireland. The kingdom was part of Norway for some years, became divided, and then its constituent parts were acquired by Scotland in the thirteenth century. The Isle of Man itself was contested between England and Scotland, eventually becoming a feudal tributory to the former in the fifteenth century. It retained its position even through the English Civil War but then the actions of the English dictator Bloody Blandford in the Popular Wars led to a devastating attack on the island known as the Rape of Man. Following Blandford’s overthrow, Man voted to sever ties with the English crown and became a republic in 1840. Since that time it has survived and prospered in part due to becoming a successful holiday destination for travellers from England, Scotland, Ireland and occasionally Scandinavia, but it still remains largely undiscovered for those outside the British Isles.
The Republic of Man has a population of approximately 100,000 (not counting transient holidaymakers). it is ruled by the Tynwald, which claims to be the oldest continually operating parliament in the world (with a claimed founding date of 979, over a thousand years ago). The Tynwald meets in Tynwald House in the capital of Douglas, which is open to the public at weekends (book a tour in advance to avoid disappointment). All government buildings and the small Manx Militia force fly a special blue-edged version of the distinctive Manx triskelion (three legs) flag, while the solidly red version is the one used by ordinary members of the public.
Man’s isolation has led to it being a popular destination for writers and others trying to escape distractions. Snaefell, the island’s only mountain, is home to a number of holiday lodges. On the other hand, the isle has also been opened to more rambunctious forms of tourism. Having a single road circuit around the island plus the Tynwald’s relaxed attitude to speed limits means the island is effectively closed every six months to play host to both mobile and autoceleripede races. The locals sometimes complain but the races do add a lot to the island’s economy. The other more raucous form of tourism on the island was the brainchild of one Aalin Clucas als Shimmin, a wealthy much-travelled widow who connected the island’s punnable name with the then contemporary growth of the individual-thinking ‘Cytherean Woman’ in the neighbouring countries, especially England. Although over a century has passed since the first “Come to Man to Find a Man” campaign and young English women and men no longer have to escape from the eyes of watchful chaperones to find love quite so much, tradition has kept the holidays still going strong. In order for the often controversial Clucas Breaks not to impinge on the island’s otherwise quiet and idyllic image, they are restricted to the town of Laxey, which has been developed into a resort shaped around the unique needs of the tourists in question.
Don’t forget to check out the wildlife, either – Man has something to offer even the most committed townie, with its cats with too few appendages and its sheep with too many. The tourist board is by this point fed up of issuing denials concerning the accident at the Kearney paradox engine in Ireland, so don’t make any smart remarks about it. Suffice to say that Man has had these unusual creatures for long before Jean Bouvard ever thought to try banging bits of sub-threshold xanthium together.
Another thing that has been going on a long time is attempts to preserve the Manx language, a unique Celtic tongue. At one point the number of native speakers had diminished to less than a hundred, but a government programme to teach pupils bilingually, eventually backed by Diversity money from the ASN, means that most islanders are now fluent. Note that Man also has its own distinctive dialect of English, but the vast majority of Manxmen and –women can also switch to London English: after all, you can’t sell things to tourists if you can’t speak to them. The Manx language may be incomprehensible to much of the world but is is also beautiful. Try to attend one of the poetry readings that one can find at many of the pubs and inns – incongruously in between the rather raucous folk music of the island or modern dry ice bands...
Elba. The Republic of Elba has a more recent history than many microstates. Much of its history consists of being fought over either because of its strategic location or its iron ore deposits. Modern Elba takes in not only the island itself but also the neighbouring isles of the so-called Tuscan Archipelago including Capraia, Giglio, Pianosa, Montecristo, Gorgona and Giannutri. Collectively the republic has a population of about 35,000, not counting transient tourists. It is known for its vineyards, its beautiful scenery and in particular Mount Capanne on Elba proper. It has a unique dialect of Tuscan, although Roman Italian is also spoken there. It remains an associate member of the League of the Isles but has rejected joining the Tyrrhenian Union outright. Elba was first separated from Italy when...
(This page rendered illegible by what appears to be a red wine stain)
...also known as Dubrovnik. Eighty thousand citizens now dwell in the tiny republic which has survived through an accident of history. Originally founded as a refuge for Roman/Byzantine refugees fleeing the barbarian-destroyed city of Epidaurum (today known as Cavtat, derived from the Latin Civitas Vetus or ‘old city’), Ragusa has defied the odds of history to exist for almost one and a half thousand years. Its survival has been accomplished largely by its rulers, the Rectors (an office also known as Rettore in Italian and Knez in Croatian) successfully playing off the huge surrounding powers against one another. This was sufficiently effective that Ragusa has survived even while those powers have risen, fallen and been replaced. The twentieth century seemed to be a time of particular peril for the republic as most of its neighbours for once became part of the same power bloc, but Ragusa was saved by its unique fusion of Italian and Croatian culture which led to a desire by ideological Diversitarians to defend it. This defence tided the nation over until Vienna and Constantinople (as we may now once again call them) split over the revisionism controversy. Today Ragusa has much less of a feel of an armed camp and is fully open once again to tourism. Though full democracy came to the republic in the late nineteenth century when it joined the League of the Isles, the trappings of the old mediaeval state are retained and the elected ruler is still called the Rector. Besides those who enjoy seeing such a collision of history and present day, the beautiful Dalmatian sea coast is well worth a visit for sun worshippers.
2. Microstates ‘in heart’ now titular parts of larger nations
Andorra. Though currently part of the Kingdom of France, a planned referendum in 2017 seems likely to restore full independence to this small state (population approx 80,000). Andorra has a complex history. It claims to be the last surviving remnant of the Marca Hispanica (Spanish March), the militarised buffer states set up by Charlemagne and his contemporaries to protect Christian France from then-Islamic-ruled Spain. Charlemagne’s grandson Charles the Bald granted Andorra to the Count of Urgell, whose descendant in turn passed it on to the Diocese of Urgell (headed by the Bishop of Urgell). In the eleventh century the Bishop put himself under the protection of the Catalan Lord of Caboet, a title later inherited by the Count of Foix. Andorra was disputed between the Count and Bishop until 1278 when a Solomonic treaty shared the sovereignty of Andorra between the two offices as equal co-princes.
This peculiar form of government has generally persisted despite repeated abolitions and restorations, of which the current direct rule by France can be considered just another historical aberration (albeit longer-lasting than most). In time the county of Foix became acquired by first the Kings of Navarre and then, when that in turn was subsumed by the House of Bourbon under Henri IV of France, the Kings of France. The two co-princes then therefore henceforth became the Bishop of Urgell and the King of France.
Andorra was briefly directly annexed to the Crown of Aragon twice (in 1396 and then again in 1512-1513), was conquered by the French Latin Republic during the Jacobin Wars and then again became part of Aragon during the Watchful Peace. It was restored after the Popular Wars, helped by a popular uprising by its people, and the old co-principality was recreated. When Spain fell under a French king following the Great American War, Andorra became a useful tax haven and watering hole for illicit interests seeking refuge from the increasingly closely aligned kingdoms of France and Spain. In this respect it survived and prospered for decades and many of Andorra la Vella’s more impressive modern buildings date from this time, the so-called Edat d’or or Golden Age. However, the state was caught up in the upheavals of the early twentieth century and this ultimately led to French military occupation that became annexation. Andorra’s unique culture might have been extinguished had it not been for Diversitarian values. As it is, with the original reasons behind the annexation having departed, there has long been a campaign to restore Andorra’s independence. The only stumbling blocks have been from those who wish Andorra to become part of Catalonia and those who claim that now Navarre is an independent kingdom again, the co-principality should be held by the Navarrese king rather than the French. However it seems likely that Andorra will vote for a restoration of the pre-1920s status quo in 2017. Due to Andorra’s mountainous character and lack of arable land, however, it will doubtless remain dependent on trade with its neighbours to feed itself. At present the old governing palace, Casa de la Vella, is a museum – it remains unclear if it will be reopened for its original purpose or if a modern building will be built if Andorra votes for independence.
Though Andorra’s particular laws and customs have suffered somewhat due to direct French rule, the city-state is still a worthy tourist destination. Its many impressive Pyrenean ski resorts are an intriguing alternative to the better known Alpine ones of the Bernese Republic and the surrounding countries. Those fond of lakes and mountains breaks will not be disappointed by the scenery and there are many impressive ancient churches in isolated spots, reflecting the area’s heritage as a Christian bulwark against Islamic Spain. Andorra la Vella is also home to one of Europe’s biggest spa resorts.
Liechtenstein. Though long part of Germany, Liechtenstein’s isolation means that it is perhaps the exemplar of retaining the old Holy Roman Empire microstate character. Indeed, even when there were three hundred states and more in Germany, Liechtenstein still stood out for being ridiculously small (based on the old borders the modern region would have a population of just thirty-five thousand). Though the now ceremonial feudal ruler has been demoted to Duke from Prince, the people of Liechtenstein retain a fiercely independent character and a desire to stand out from the crowd. They certainly achieve that, which oddities such as their small former state being home to the world’s largest manufacturer of false teeth and tourists only being allowed to ski the slope on Mount Alpspitz if they are capable of reciting the German alphabet backwards.[2] Liechtenstein’s chief virtue is its isolation for those tourists who so desire that while (unlike similar regions in the Bernese Republic) still being covered by pan-German institutions whose absence can cause problems for travellers from some countries. Otherwise, only for the true microstate enthusiast.
Rome. Though the Roman Republic only had a brief existence as a fully independent state, it claims heritage from the old Papal States (as a secularised successor) and ultimately from the original Roman Republic that became the Roman Empire. As a capital city of a major European power, Rome may be a strange choice to find on a list like this, but its microstate character requires a little digging to uncover—an adventure well worth its prize...
(Half a page torn out here)
...of St John still retain a presence there, but their direct involvement in governance now belongs to the past. Malta is naturally also home to the Assembly of Sovereign Nations’ Global Health Taskforce, whose headquarters in Valletta are open to the public and well worth a visit.
3. States too large to be ‘microstates’ but which may also appear on the tour
Navarre. The modern Kingdom of Navarre is generally considered to be the homeland of the Basque people, whose origins—and that of their unique language—remain somewhat shrouded in mystery. At some points in history Navarre also included many Gascons, but their lands are now mostly part of the Kingdom of France. Navarre came into existence in the ninth century, being born from lands that had never been conquered by the Franks or the Spanish Visigoths. The original Basque-ruled kingdom was divided between French and Spanish rulers, with the hereditary kingship of Navarre eventually becoming one of the titles of the King of France. An independent Navarre was recreated after the Jacobin Wars under the Lithuanian nobleman Adam Konstanty Czartoryski. This Navarre lacked some of the historical Navarrese lands and also included more Gascon territory that had formerly been French. This situation was righted by the upheavals in the Popular Wars, which saw Navarre expand at the expense of the Spanish kingdoms while losing most of its Gascon inhabitants—who had been angered by Adam Konstanty’s decision to embrace a purely Basque identity for his kingdom—to the French. Originally set up as a Russian puppet state in the west (giving the Russian navy access to an Atlantic port, the capital of Bayonne), the Russians lost influence after the Popular Wars and then were replaced with the French after a brief period of balance of power in Navarre. Navarre has remained closely aligned with France ever since, both through the long period of France and Spain being close and then the age of the Pyrenees ‘once again becoming the frontier of civilisation’. Navarre’s embrace and revival of Basque traditions makes it an intriguing holiday destination...
(The other side of the torn out half a page)
...but to remain in Palma de Mallorca as many do is to ignore the potential of the other islands. The Balearic Republic has a population of over one million, all of whom are keen to make you feel at home.
Sicily. The Sicilian Republic is home to five million people, all of whom (based on recent referenda) cannot make up their minds on whether they want their country to rejoin Italy or integrate into the Tyrrhenian Union. Not to mention the small minority who want the island to embrace its distant Greek past and paint all post-Punic Wars settlements of the island as Un-Sicilian! While they sort out their political problems, the rest of us can enjoy the island’s glorious scenery, including the imposing peak of the volcano Mount Etna, the architecture of Palermo, the beaches of Trapani and the collision of history and modernity that is the capital Syracuse...
(The rest of this book appears to be missing, but the surviving contents page indicates that other countries it would have covered include the Bernese Republic, Greece, Scotland and Courland)
[1] This timeline appears to use a different definition of continent in the present day (or at least the books currently examined indicate this, opinions may of course differ). The atlases divide the world into nine continents: Europe, Asia, Africa, North America, South America, Antipodea, Nusantara (sometimes called the Malay Archipelago in OTL, and sometimes including Japan and Madagascar but not consistently between atlases), Pacifica (all the islands of the Pacific, including New Zealand and Hawaii) and Australia (confusingly, our Antarctica).
[2] The first of these is one of those allohistorical coincidences, as it is also true in OTL.
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