Switzerland in Five Cities — A Conference, a Cancelled Skydive, a Wooden Bridge and a Lake

Switzerland in Five Cities

Our first international trip — August 2022. The whole loop happened because Harshit got a conference opportunity at the Zurich Marriott, and we built a fifteen-day Europe trip around it: we landed in Zurich, flew on to Vienna the very next day, ran through Prague, swung down to Paris, then came back to Zurich for the conference itself and the actual Switzerland leg — Bern, Interlaken, Lucerne and Montreux. A country we still feel we've only seen from a train window.

Switzerland gave us our first proper cultural shock in Europe — the moment we realised people around us were quietly enjoying life on a level we hadn't seen growing up. It also gave us the moment three cards in three machines all declined in a Grindelwald souvenir shop. The same country humbled us at a Marriott lobby in Zurich and lifted us up on a Panoramic carriage sliding through valleys to Montreux. Zurich is the working city; Bern is the quiet capital that "feels like Prague with fewer people"; Interlaken is paragliders drifting over a meadow and skydives cancelled by rain; Lucerne is a wooden bridge, a weeping stone lion and a cog rail up a 2,128 m mountain; Montreux is an accidental two-hour stop by Lake Geneva that became the last meal of a trip. Five cities, one fifteen-day trip, and one running observation we wrote on a train: no matter how costly Switzerland is, their train transport is impeccable.

📍 Tip: Every city heading below — Zurich, Bern, Interlaken, Lucerne, Montreux — is clickable. Tap any to dive into the day-by-day city story.

Zurich — A Conference, a Cultural Shock & Dinner in the Clouds

Zurich wasn't a leisurely city break. Harshit had a conference at the Marriott, and Zurich was our base for two days — except we weren't really in Zurich. We were in Dietikon, a quieter suburb a short train ride out, sharing an apartment with our friends Kapil and Sam, who'd come up from Germany to meet us. We rolled in on the FlixBus from Bercy Seine after a hard goodbye to Paris, took the train down to Kilchberg for the Lindt factory (we ate lots of chocolates; the discovery that the factory wasn't cheaper than the Coop store in Zurich or the supermarkets in Germany was less sweet), and dropped our planned Rhinefalls and Limmat cruise when the Zurich travel ticket turned out useless for those routes. The next day, with Harshit's presentation done by mid-morning, I claimed a corner of the Marriott's first-floor lobby and wrote my Europe diary from 12 to 6 pm — and that lobby is where the trip's defining line landed: "European people know how to celebrate life. They are not earning to enjoy life with family. They are enjoying life and earning to survive. Completely opposite to the mindset I have been raised in." The evening rescued the day — a tram up to CLOUDS, Zurich's only skyscraper, with a 360-degree city light below and a 75-euro dinner that stopped feeling like a number.

Bern — Einstein's Overpriced Flat & a Capital That Feels Like Prague

Bern wasn't really planned. We were on the train from Zurich to Interlaken, eating our last box of chole chawal on board, when we decided to get down for the Einstein Apartment on Kramgasse — the room above a café where he lived during his miracle years. Honest verdict: okay, and highly overpriced. The view from the window was nice; the ticket was not. What rescued Bern was the walk back: police patrolling on horseback, painted fountains at every other corner, the long sandstone arcades that let you walk the medieval centre without looking up, and a stop at Läderach to stock up on chocolates. The shopkeeper told us they were planning to open in India — a 2022 note that, by the time you're reading this, has actually happened. We didn't climb the Zytglogge or queue for the Bear Park; we just walked, ate, photographed, and made our train. The line that went into the diary on the way out — "Bern, capital of Switzerland, gives you complete feel of Prague with less people" — still holds. A capital city the Swiss way: quiet, well-organised, expensive, and not particularly interested in showing off.

Interlaken — A Cancelled Skydive & the Day the Cards Stopped Working

We arrived in Interlaken on the evening of 18 August, looked up and saw paragliders drifting in slow spirals over the meadow. The skydive was booked for the next morning. This, we thought, was going to be the highlight of two weeks in Europe. What we got instead was a Thun lake cruise in a drizzle, a cable car and small train climbing to Mürren (the village that genuinely gives you the impression that you are lost in mountains), a host couple who'd turned their study into our guest room, and a 7 a.m. phone buzz on 19 August telling us all slots got cancelled. We pivoted to Grindelwald, where the day delivered its worst feeling we have ever had as travellers: a souvenir shop, our cash almost gone, and three cards in three machines all declined. The cafe owner saved us with patience and free wifi; only our SBI debit card finally pulled cash from an ATM, while the other bank's system was down for hours. The line for any Indian reading this is simple — SBI saved our reputation. We caught the connecting trains to the Panoramic View train heading toward Gstaad with seconds to spare. And then, finally, the sky cracked open. The carriage with its huge curved windows framed valleys, lakes and tiny chalets sliding by like a film reel. The ride was so good we did not even get down at Gstaad. We rode straight through to Montreux.

Lucerne — Chapel Bridge, a Weeping Stone Lion & the Cog Up Pilatus

If Zurich is the city that works and Interlaken is the launch pad, Lucerne is the postcard — a real city that has the temerity to actually look like the postcards. The Kapellbrücke — Chapel Bridge — crosses the river Reuss at an odd diagonal, ducks past the octagonal stone Wasserturm at its midpoint, and is the oldest surviving wooden covered bridge in Europe, originally built in 1333 (a chunk burned in 1993 and was carefully rebuilt; you can spot the slight colour difference if you look). We crossed it probably six times in two days. The slightly less famous Spreuerbrücke downstream, darker and quieter, has a medieval Dance of Death painted along its beams. Mark Twain called the Lion Monument "the most mournful and moving piece of stone in the world," and he was, annoyingly, exactly right — a wounded ten-metre lion carved into a cliff face that we sat opposite for fifteen minutes when we'd expected a quick photo. The headline day was the Golden Round Trip up Mount Pilatus (2,128 m): a lake steamer to Alpnachstad, the world's steepest cogwheel railway (gradients up to 48% — your stomach notices), an hour on top above a sea of cloud, then cable cars and a gondola back. We rounded the trip out on a Lake Lucerne paddle steamer, eating apple strudel on the top deck while the red paddle wheel turned, and walked the Musegg Wall's nine medieval towers at sunset. Two nights felt about right.

Montreux — Two Hours by Lake Geneva & Our Last Meal in Europe

Montreux was never on the plan. It was the accidental last stop of a fifteen-day Europe trip — a town we landed in because the Panoramic View train from Interlaken was so beautiful that we just kept going. We were meant to get down at Gstaad, the village made famous to every Indian by DDLJ. We didn't. We rode it an hour further to Montreux, one stop short of Geneva, sat by the lake for two hours, ate a pizza by the water, and turned around. We skipped everything the city is famous for — Château de Chillon, Geneva, the Freddie Mercury statue, the Lavaux vineyards — and treated this purely as a stop before the long train back to Dietikon, the 5 a.m. taxi, and the flight home. The palm trees, the lake, the French Alps on the far side, all of it borrowed for two hours. The diary line was honest: "We were literally roaming like European citizens but deep down in the evening we knew we have to leave tomorrow & we are temporary here. Two weeks flew just like that."

Final Reflection