The mirrors of Zurich

Dear Barbara,

Zurich is a well-dressed lady. It’s already dark when I arrive at the Central Station. The station itself is an objet d’art. It is located almost straight at the confluence of the rivers Limmat and Sihl and stands there since 1871. Throughout the years of my journeys, I have learned to pay attention to how I feel when I arrive. And that’s also what I do when I reach Zurich.

The atmosphere at the Central Station of Zurich is festive. There is no big celebration here, but what I see is permanent pacing: people dressed in heavy clothes smoke all around the station and seem to have no destination. They seem to be there just because there is no other place to go. A cloud of smoke is hanging in the air, and the distant noise of the departing trains seems to be the music of the station and not part of the journey.

I could spend hours here, talking to people, or taking photos of them. But the truth is, all the vivid places that live in our memories have a touch of lost youth. We feel welcome somewhere, and that’s why we never forget those places. We grow older, yes, but the warm feeling we once experienced remains forever.

I carry my suitcase, and I leave the station behind.

A million lights above Zurich

The Bahnhofstrasse is a parabolical avenue with expensive stores. But at night, when consumerism surrenders to the free time, the heads are turning towards the sky. A million lights are hanging above the city. No, it’s not the starry sky. It’s shortly before Christmas, and Zurich seems to be a leader when it comes to celebrations. All those hanging lights and ornaments replace the stars. As if the moment is not unique enough, all of a sudden, it starts to snow. It’s a proper snowfall that, alas, won’t last for long. But for the twenty minutes that it lasts, it creates a scenery straight out of Christmas fairytales.

I know it’s expensive here, but I somehow don’t feel betrayed: visiting one of the most prosperous countries in the world requests a certain mindset. If you let money destroy your time here, you won’t make anything out of Switzerland. But, never decide to come to Zurich without being sure that you can afford life. I keep on walking down the Bahnhofstrasse, and I study the faces. Sometimes I feel that I take a walk between the lines of a Vogue editorial.

My room at the steakhouse

I keep on staying at bizarre hotels in Switzerland. After staying at a cinema, it’s time to spend some nights at a steakhouse. There is a double sign outside of the building: hotel and steakhouse. I enter with some discontent, and I soon find out that my room is located on the second floor. I’d rather take the stairs instead of trying to fit in this 1×1 elevator. I might have made such a ride in the hanging coffins of Chiatura, but I never feel comfortable in elevators.

The staircase stinks of burned olive oil. When I enter the room, everything seems tiny. This appears to be a nano-hotel, something that comes straight from the future. The ceiling is not more than 2,20 meters high; the room is small; the windows are narrow. The furniture is basic and the lights inexistent. For a moment (or better: for an hour), I think of leaving straight away. But I’m here for just a couple of days, and I don’t want to lose time. I take deep breaths, and I try to adapt: I must stay in that shoebox.

The Old Town of Zurich (Altstadt)

This is not a city but an embroidery. Wherever I look in the Old Town of Zurich, I can only see elegant stores and magnificent architecture. I’m sure that I’m going to remember for a long time my walks in downtown Zurich. The streets are narrow and covered by stone, and on every crossroad, I can also get a glimpse of the river.

I walk across the Cabaret Voltaire where almost a century ago, dadaism was founded, and then I cross two famous chocolate shops. I can’t resist temptation, and I enter in both of them. In the first one, I don’t buy anything; in the second one though I pay an equal of 20 euros for two chocolates. Entering the shops of Zurich seems to be an expensive hobby.

A few hundred meters down the street, I take a right turn. And there I see Lake Zurich. It covers the southeastern part of Zurich and is a place to relax. The seagulls are flying all around my head as I stand on the bridge, and I try to see the lake’s end. But today it’s not visible. I wonder how it would look like frozen. I ask a man standing next to me when was the last time it was frozen.

“Long time ago,” he replies, “if I’m not wrong, it was in 1963”.

The tram-café 14

Throughout the years, to reduce costs and subjugate my laziness, I invented a way to spend less time and money in cafés. I’d buy a day-ticket (or even a weekly one), and whenever I feel tired, I’d ride the tram. Zurich has the most well-lit trams in the world, and it’s a pleasure to ride them.

I embark on the number 14, and I find a place next to the window. I’m sleepless after visiting the Züri-Bar last night, but the Negroni was decent and the atmosphere cozy, so riding the tram is an excellent way to get some rest without returning to the hotel. I see Zurich losing a part of its magic progressively; the suburbs could be part of every other Swiss or even German city. But still, even at the very end of the line, Zurich preserves some level of elegance.

I ride the tram 14 two times from one side of the city to the other. It’s only after concluding the itineraries that I realize why the trams are so well-lit here: they are not just means of transportation, they are considered theaters. Riding for almost two hours the trams, I observe some daily incidents that would make Raymond Carver smile. A courteous teenager tries to make eye contact with a girl opposite to him by touching her knees accidentally before he says, “I’m sorry.” A man tries to disembark, but he loses his balance and punches an old man unintentionally in the face. An old lady wants to sit, but a guy occupies two seats, and they talk for twenty minutes about ethics; and, of course, they disembark at the same station.

The stories keep on flowing. I rarely see something mind-blowing in these tram-rides. I usually buy a cup of coffee, and I try to find a seat. Wherever I hear voices interacting, I feel like home. Of all the trams I rode for stories, Zurich has the best ones.

I miss the Alps

I got addicted to majestic mountains this year. After remaining ecstatic in front of Ararat in Armenia, I became obsessed with the Alps. In Lucerne, I couldn’t have enough of the Alps: wherever I was turning my head, there was a snow-covered mountain. In Zurich, though, there are only hills surrounding the city, and the Alps are not that close. But walking in Zurich is a reward like no other.

Meanwhile, the cafés, the restaurants, the stores, and even the hotel rooms in Zurich are full of mirrors. But these are not the typical circular or almost square mirrors. They are rectangular, and they usually cover a wall from edge to edge. I don’t know if this a decoration style that is trending or if Zurich is willing to see its changes through the times. The attentive visitor will stand in front of a mirror, and he/she sooner or later whisper a promise of return.

I do the same thing in the lobby of that steakhouse hotel. Yes, there is a lobby, and there is also a mirror. I see the sun spending some rare sun rays on a building behind me. I’m about to shut down my laptop and head towards the airport. There is a Swiss clock on the wall that dictates accuracy. For somebody like me, adapting to its rules is often a blessing: I have enough time to go to the train station, and before embarking for the ten-minute ride to the airport, I can spend some time taking photos.

As I said at the beginning of this letter, the train station in Zurich is magnificent. It’s also a reason to return to Zurich. I have to search for some characters there. And I must find another mirror: one promise of return is never enough, especially for a city like Zurich.

Love,

George

More about Switzerland: Behold the pale son of Lucerne, What happens in Winterthur stays in Sankt Gallen

Last Updated on August 1, 2020 by George Pavlopoulos