Hello, Zurich? Disney called. They want their movie set back.

Zurich might just be the perfect city. The streets are clean and cobblestoned. The people are beautiful and speak Swiss German (like German sprinkled with fairy dust). The water of the river is so clear, I have to resist the temptation to strip off my clothes and dive right in. Sure, it’s ridiculously expensive, but that’s the price you pay for perfection.

So what could be wrong?

I’ve wandered around for two days, and I’ve found myself thinking, “Come on! This can’t actually be real!” I’ve seen daffodils and baby swans and honeysuckle (I’m not making that up), and skies that were so blue even the clouds seemed idyllic. I keep waiting for someone (probably me) to lean up against the wrong thing, and for this whole, 2-dimensional façade - this movie set - to come crashing down.




Frankly, Zurich might just be too perfect. I find myself wondering, don’t these people get bored? Where’s the dirt and the chaos and the seedy underbelly that makes the heart beat just a little faster?

I went into Grossmunster (pictured above), and found it underwhelming. A couple of densely coloured stained glass windows, but otherwise unimpressive.

At a bakery near my hotel, they had sandwiches that were glazed like pastries. Salami, pickle and boiled egg beckoned in eerily shiny perfection. I bought one, not because I was hungry, but just because I was curious. The sandwich was, I think, a bit like Zurich – perfection to the eye, ordinary flavour.



In a way, this is the ideal setting for me right now. This implacable beauty and calm helps me approach my inner chaos (the part of me that ravenously wants to be back in Barcelona) with some disconnection. And yet, at every turn, I feel just a little more visible – like my inner turmoil might boil to the surface, and they might kick me out of the city for being, you know, not perfect enough...