The River Aare swirls in icy shades of cyan below the quaint Nydeggbrücke arch bridge. A sharp, mountain-fresh breeze cuts across my face.
In Bern, the capital of Switzerland, you can see The Alps glistening in the distance to the south from many vantage points. They cast a spell over the city: the water, the air, they’re just better here. Switzerland, in general, makes you feel like you’re in some Evian-drenched wonderland. The wind is bracing, but I zip up my jacket and lean into it. The picture-perfect scenery demands it.
Think a sea of terracotta pantile roofs. Forest-carpeted hills. And barely an ultramodern building in sight. It’s certainly a deviation from the evermore chaotic skylines of most capital cities.