I spent Saturday, 30 August 2025 at the Eidgenössisches Schwing- und Älplerfest (ESAF) in Mollis (Glarus)—Switzerland’s biggest celebration of Schwingen (Swiss sawdust wrestling) and Alpine culture. I’d last gone six years earlier at ESAF Zug 2019, which I loved enough to promise myself I’d return when it came close to home again.
What ESAF Is (and why it matters)
ESAF happens every three years and transforms its host town into a temporary city of sport, music, and hospitality. In Mollis, organisers built a 56,500-seat open-air arena—the world’s largest temporary stadium—inside a festival grounds that welcomed hundreds of thousands. The weekend blends top-level wrestling with yodelling, flag-throwing, live music, and the beloved “Siegermuni” (the live champion bull; this year’s was named ZIBU). It’s a mega-event that somehow still feels local and warm.
Schwingen, in one minute
Two athletes in sturdy Schwinghosen (grip shorts) wrestle on sawdust. A clean win means both of your opponent’s shoulders touch the ground while you still hold the shorts; as a mark of respect, the winner brushes sawdust off the loser’s back. It’s strength, timing, and etiquette in equal measure.
Getting there (my simple logistics)
I rode my scooter to Pfäffikon SZ, parked, and switched to public transport for the last leg. On ESAF weekend that’s the way to go—roads clog, while shuttle buses and festival routes are frequent and well signposted. I’d arranged to meet a friend via live location, but the crowd density made it a needle-in-a-haystack situation; after ~90 minutes of trying we called it quits and agreed to swap stories later.
First stop: the Migros-Bühne
The sponsor stage was buzzing from the morning’s public viewing through the evening concerts. On Saturday, the lineup featured acts like Stubete Gäng (21:30) and late-night DJ sets—pure festival energy and a perfect warm-up between the wrestling sessions and tent hopping.
Around the tents: people, plates, and a chance encounter
I drifted through the fest tents for food and music—classic ESAF fare—and struck up a conversation with a Schwinger I didn’t recognise at first: Fritz Ramseier. Only later did I realise I’d chatted with one of Saturday’s surprise standouts; he finished Day 1 near the top and went on to earn his first federal wreath (and promptly announced his retirement days later—what a way to bow out).
The sporting headline you’ll want to know
By Sunday evening the new Schwingerkönig 2025 was crowned: Armon Orlik. In a rare twist, the final bout (Schlussgang) between Samuel Giger and Werner Schlegel ended gestellt (drawn), and Orlik—brilliant across the eight rounds—took the title on points. He’s the first ever king from Graubünden, ending an 18-year wait for his region.
The atmosphere (and why it feels uniquely Swiss)
What struck me—again—was the easy, safe, good-humoured vibe. Tens of thousands of people, plenty of beer, and still an atmosphere of mutual respect that mirrors the sport itself: shake hands, compete hard, brush off the sawdust, share a table. Mollis ran like clockwork—food moving, shuttles humming, volunteers everywhere, smiles in every queue. It felt like the Glarus hospitality everyone kept praising all weekend.
A few nerdy festival facts (because that’s half the fun)
- 56,500 inside the arena; ~350,000 across the grounds over the weekend.
- ~270,000 L of beer, and a logistics operation worthy of a small city.
- The monumental wooden bull “Muni Max” (20 m tall) now begins its post-ESAF life in Uri as a tourist landmark.
- Sunday’s ceremony crowned the King with ZIBU in the arena—yes, a live bull is still part of the prize tradition.
Why I’ll remember Saturday most
It wasn’t the most “planned” day—I never found my friend—but it was a perfect slice of ESAF: early public viewing at the Migros-Bühne, music and banter in the tents, an accidental chat with Ramseier, and the feeling that tradition and modern festival can coexist without friction. I left around 1 a.m., tired and happy, reminded why I fell for ESAF back in Zug 2019—and why I’ll keep coming back.
