100 minutes from LCY to ZRH

I was in Zurich last week; a beautiful sunny day in what the Zürcher like to consider to be the best of Switzerland, its peak. It lacks the 15,203 ft altitude of the Dufourspitze, though, on a day like today the view across the lake is just as amazing. Strolling along Bahnhofstrasse the fashion statements (for women) walking by present themselves mainly as wearing shorts or a mini skirt, leather boots that go all the way up to the knees with flat heels and a top that has flowers printed all over it. In short, life is beautiful here.

It’s refreshing to get out of London every so often; there is an unmatched pace to the city that is going to cost me a few years of my life one day. Right now I don’t have to worry about that, I’ve come here to delve into the well-liked societal appetite for coffee houses. One thing to note about the city I’m in is that it’s probably the most un-wordly banking-capital. There’s only one week every year, when the world’s bottin mondain come to Zurich, the week before the Art Basel opens its doors. This is the time when the best parties take place. Rich people usually only visit Zurich to see how their money is doing, then fly home again the same day.

Sitting in a little café in a side street just off Paradeplatz, the people in Zurich appear to be generally very happy. It seems nobody is working today; everyone has become a member of the ‘Café Society’. A perfect place to discuss business, art, politics and philosophy; and to gossip. There has been a revival of the coffee houses again, after they first flourished in the 17th century. A meeting point for people of all classes, which has become the place of choice for work, rest and play – somewhere in-between home and office.

With free Wi-Fi this conveys the impression of an ideal location to get some work done for the day. I can start typing on my laptop while sunk into an armchair and kindly ask the waiter to bring me a hot masala chai covered in a thick layer of lovely frothed milk. It’s like working from home, with an endless supply of Luxemburgerli, little cream filled delights, to go with your tea.

Spinning the globe you may find coffee houses to be a far cry from what you expected. Don’t hope to be served an Italian espresso in a Middle Eastern ahwah, or a hot chocolate in a dutch coffeeshop. What remains is the idea of a place for people to gather and shape commerce, literature, history and revolution alike.

Hours later, when it is still 28 degrees and all work is done, there’s nothing better than to enjoy a freshly made ice cream. Acanto is not the gelateria at Piazza della Cisterna in San Gimignano, where you can enjoy licking your amarena cornetto under the Tuscan sun, but it’s as close as you can get. Switzerland is not Italy, but there’s always an Italian close by che fa buon gelato italiano. Then it’s back to business, I have a flight to London to catch in two hours.