From The Latest Issue: 72 Hours In Zürich Through The Old Town, The Limmat And Beyond

A few teens were spray painting on the concrete walls a little away from the throng of adults lying splayed on sunbeds close to the river's edge. "Don't people mind the graffiti?" I asked. "Some do. But the city also commissions wall art to artists," my companion replied. I was sitting on a terrace a storey above and decided to remove the thin jacket I was wearing as the strong Swiss sun beat down on my back. Zürich in summer was younger, more buoyant, and with less bite than I imagined. When the sun is out, people milk it till its last, fading rays. I gave my glass of Aperol Spritz a lazy swirl, observing the jamboree downstairs.

We were lunching at GUMP at the Oberer Letten riverside bathing facility, considered the ultimate summer hangout in the city. From my perch on the sundeck of the bar I could spot a mix of sunbathers and swimmers hogging the river and floating facedown, dead to the worries of the world.

Having experienced a European summer in all its languid beauty, my life in Delhi seemed like a distant, difficult memory.

Summer in Zürich felt like late November in Delhi, but looked like a Goan beach day. The Limmat River was a map, a lifeline, and a rowdy summer companion, a bit like that friend enabling your impulses but always there to catch you if you fall. Rivers usually divide cities; here, it seemed to sew everything together. From the moment of our arrival, we followed it and it guided us. Elizabeth, one of the city tour leaders, put it simply, "You can never get lost in Zürich. Just follow the river!" And sure enough, every bend of the Limmat felt like a breadcrumb leading us deeper into the city’s heart.

Switzerland has multiple contrasting lines and borders; you cross some and follow others. Chief among them are the linguistic and cultural ones. We were in the Swiss-German side of the country, which meant all the traits that the land was predominantly known for—punctuality, restraint and discretion—were on our side. Hence, I reached places on time every morning and was still second to the tourism representative accompanying us for the day. I accepted it was not quite possible to beat the Swiss in the race against time.

Hurrying down the road from our hotel, the Park Hyatt on Beethovenstrasse, we finally caught sight of Lake Zürich embraced by the Alps. The Saturday morning reflected on the glistening water was filled with small groups of people lost in conversations, children laughing, and the occasional diver ducks on the lake taking sudden dips when the mood struck.

Switzerland in August was active and in constant movement. A sweeping, childlike insouciance gripped the general atmosphere. Lap up every last bit of fun before the frigid weather turns the mood. The city was all but a mere projection of the season's joy, a golden entity, with the warmth of a dear old friend I was excited to meet.

The Limmat River accompanied us on the walk from Bahnhofstrasse—the city's famous shopping street—into Zürich's Old Town. The late afternoon sun hung low, following us as we trudged up the cobblestone alleyways.

While I sat scarfing down my delicious vegetarian entrée with a glass of Negroni at Neue Taverne, the brainchild of Chef Fabian Fuchs, the sun weakened, and the crowd started gaining momentum. One of the biggest allures of European cities is how completely walkable they are. Even through the frequent, dazzling sighting of a lime Porsche parked casually on a side street next to a bar or the smooth purr of a scarlet Ferrari zooming past, the luxury of walking around everywhere was something to yearn for. Locals went in and out of restaurants, pubs, and shops on foot, all decked up, with not one hair out of place.

Up on Lindenhof Hill, overlooking the whole city, the scene shifted into something warmer around dusk, full of tourists but somewhat more familiar. The hill has been occupied for nearly two millennia; first a Roman castle, then a Carolingian palace, and eventually just open ground where people now picnic or play chess. Then there is the view, unfurling the entire city at your line of sight: the Limmat winding below, the twin towers of Grossmünster and people walking.

I was intently watching a man playing chess on the giant board. "Tourist?" he asked, not unkindly. I asked how he guessed that. "Because tourists always look up. Locals only look down at the board." With that, he returned to his match, but the comment stayed with me. Zürich had taught me to keep my gaze lifted.

"What is this place?"

My voice was barely louder than the music as I gawked at my surroundings, neck straining, gaze hungrily taking in the shiny scene. The inner courtyard of the Landesmuseum or the National Museum in the city was bedecked as a Gothic discotheque. Glittery baubles and huge mirror balls swooped down reflecting shards of light on the ancient turrets of the castle. Pop-up stalls for food and drinks lined the edges, with a huge tent doubling as a mosh pit in the centre. "Welcome to Rundfunk!" Sandra yelled back.

I walked around slowly, peering at the floating faces in the crowd. This was summer in all its sweaty, gyrating, gleeful glory. First broadcast around the year 2000, Rundfunk.fm is a live radio summer festival which has developed from an insider tip to a now popular cultural event. For around 50 days in July and August, the inner courtyard of the Landesmuseum becomes the thumping playground for a string of national and international DJs to host one of the most fabulous summer parties in Zürich.

Sandra, noticing my impressed expression, informed me in a low voice how the party had mellowed in recent years. "Twenty-five years ago, that was when the real party happened," and then she shimmied into the dancing crowd towards the bar.

Deeper into the "Dörfli," as locals fondly call their Old Town, every corner offered a photograph: people ambling across alleys, children splashing by the fountains, couples lingering at outdoor tables, and women moving around freely even late into the night. In nearly deserted train stations, crossing bridges hand-in-hand, or just walking fearlessly by themselves into a bar, I saw women everywhere, my eyes tinged with envy at their freedom. Maybe it was the summer that gave them the confidence. Maybe it's different in winter, when the shadows grow longer and darker, swallowing you into the depths of shaded alleys, bones already jumpy from the tingling teeth of cold.

But I walked alone those summer nights, absorbing every bit of the darkness, so alien yet so welcoming, ducking my face into fountains for a crisp drink, and refusing to let my heart be scared. When moments are fleeting, they become fonder. Boarding my train out of Zürich, it really hit me how much I truly immersed myself in the culture, people, and pulse of this city. And I can only hope I return for yet another season.

Swiss Essentials

Where I stayed: Park Hyatt Zürich

Where I ate: Haus Hiltl for a great vegetarian buffet; Neue Taverne for vegetarian fine dining; GUMP for summer bites; Nude Cafe for beverages and pastries; Fischer's Fritz for the freshest fish

Rundfunk: Entry to the party is free; timings are from 5 PM to 11 PM

FAQs | Zürich Summer Travel

1. What is the best time to visit Zürich in summer?
The best time to visit Zürich is between June and early September, when the weather is warm and perfect for river swims and outdoor dining.

2. How many days are ideal to explore Zürich?
Three days are ideal to explore Zürich’s Old Town, art museums, Limmat River, and day trips to Uetliberg or Lake Zürich.

3. What are must-do summer experiences in Zürich?
Don’t miss floating in the Limmat River, exploring Niederdorf, visiting Kunsthaus Zürich, and enjoying sunset drinks by the lake.

4. Is Zürich expensive for travellers?
Zürich is among Europe’s pricier cities, but Zurich Card, public transport, and riverside picnics can help travellers save money.

5. What’s the best way to get around Zürich?
Zürich’s trams, boats, and bikes make getting around easy and scenic. A Swiss Travel Pass is recommended for unlimited rides.