As a Swiss person living in Japan, I’m occasionally reminded that my homeland is famous for two things: mountains and not having a coastline. Ah, and chocolate and cheese. So, four things. And neutrality. Five. But definitely not beaches. Japan, meanwhile, is basically all coastline. Fish is fresh. Sea breezes are real. Children grow up knowing which direction the ocean is. In Switzerland, we grow up knowing which direction the nearest tunnel is. We are landlocked. Firmly. Im

🐶 Animal Priorities Switzerland worships cows, and their right to roam fields freely is practically sacred. Swiss cows are local celebrities; annual cow parades celebrate their return from summer grazing, complete with bells, flower crowns, and more enthusiasm than most human festivals receive. And if the cowbells in the field next to your house keep you up all night? Tough luck. They are an important part of Switzerland's traditional culture, and a majority of the residents

As the days begin to warm, there comes that hopeful moment each year when we realise we can finally turn off the heating and open the windows. Fresh air enters the living room. Spring announces itself. Life feels lighter. In a densely built neighbourhood, however, fresh air rarely travels alone. It arrives accompanied by sound. Last year we discovered one particularly dedicated contributor to the urban soundtrack: a neighbour across the street who appeared to have developed a

February in Switzerland is carnival season. Which means that for a few glorious days each year, the Swiss are officially permitted to lose control. This may not sound remarkable if you come from cultures where public enthusiasm is a daily occurrence. But Switzerland runs on restraint. On order. Emotional moderation calibrated to within acceptable tolerances. Carnival is the exception. This is when otherwise respectable bankers dress as medieval vegetables. Accountants unleash

The other day, my wife suddenly looked up from her morning coffee and asked a perfectly reasonable question: 'Where have all the crows gone?' This may not sound like a big deal. But if you’ve ever lived in Tokyo, you’ll understand the gravity of the situation. For years, our mornings weren’t greeted by the delicate chirping of sparrows, but by the full-volume cawing of crows that sounded like they were holding an emergency meeting outside our window. Imagine the ravens at the

The other day my wife and I went to see Bryan Adams in concert. This guy really rocks. And I don’t just mean in a 'good for his age'  sense – which is usually polite shorthand for 'still upright and not entirely embarrassing' . No, he genuinely rocks. Especially when you consider that he’s 66. Sixty-six! An age where most people start complaining about their knees, their eyesight, and music all sounds the same these days. Meanwhile, Bryan Adams is on stage, strutting around l

It’s flu season. And Covid is also still doing the rounds. At this point, I’m beginning to suspect we’re not getting rid of it anytime soon. Walking around Japan at this time of year, it can sometimes feel as if the pandemic never really left. Masks everywhere. On trains. In shops. On the street. Sometimes even outdoors – alone, in wide‑open spaces. Or worn by drivers sitting solo in their car, presumably protecting themselves from… themselves. Shop and restaurant staff are m

In 2026, I will have lived in Japan for 30 years. Thirty years. Long enough to forget that Sundays once meant closed shops, but still short enough to be asked, every now and then, when 'I’m going back home.' What I only realised recently is that this urge to leave Switzerland – to look over the mountains and think maybe somewhere else would be nice  – is not a modern phenomenon at all. It’s about 2,000 years old. What I’m referring to is one of the earliest mass emigrations

🚗 Driving Culture Switzerland treats speed limits as sacred laws, written in metaphorical stone and enforced by hidden speed cameras lurking like highly trained snipers. Step even slightly over the limit, and you've instantly won yourself a surprise photo souvenir courtesy of Swiss law enforcement. It's efficient, relentless, and guarantees that every Swiss driver develops a built-in speedometer through sheer fear alone. In contrast, Japan's speed limits, though technically

On December 10, Switzerland’s parliament elected Economics Minister Guy Parmelin as president for 2026. If your immediate reaction to this news was a polite nod followed by 'Wait, Switzerland has a president?' . Congratulations, you are responding correctly. Because Switzerland’s presidency is one of the most Swiss things imaginable. It exists, it functions perfectly, and it makes absolutely no fuss about itself. In most countries, becoming president comes with perks. Palaces

If there is one thing Japanese people know about Switzerland, it is this: Mountains. Alps. Snow. Yodelling, possibly while skiing downhill. As soon as they find out I’m Swiss, the conversation inevitably drifts upwards. Literally. 'You must have grown up surrounded by mountains.' 'You probably went hiking every weekend.' I usually nod politely, because explaining reality takes longer than smiling. The truth is this: yes, Switzerland has the Alps. They’re magnificent. World-cl

After living roughly half my life in Switzerland and half in Japan, I’ve learned one crucial thing about New Year celebrations: Switzerland and Japan are celebrating the same holiday  – just facing in completely opposite directions. In Switzerland, New Year’s Eve is the main event, with a long meal (often meat fondue, which has become somewhat of a tradition), good wine, and fireworks. New Year’s Day exists mainly for recovery and regret. In Japan, New Year’s Eve is a polite

Growing up in Switzerland, bread wasn’t just food. It was infrastructure. Bread had a starring role at breakfast, a reliable supporting role at lunch and dinner, and a quiet cameo appearance whenever someone felt a bit peckish. With roughly 200 officially recognised types of bread, there was enough variety to keep life interesting, balanced, and pleasantly crumb-filled. One thing united all of them: it had to be fresh. This wasn’t difficult. Bakeries were everywhere, often op

Japanese people usually assume that because I speak Japanese – more or less fluently (and sometimes noticeably less than more) – I must also be able to read it. After all, there are "only" 2,135 daily-use kanji characters. Out of roughly 50,000 in total. So surely, after 29 years in Japan, I should have picked them up by now. Plenty of time, right? One per week and I’d have finished the lot before my hairline started its slow, steady retreat. The harsh reality, however, is th

I’m writing this from Nagano – roughly 230 km away from Tokyo – where we are spending our Christmas and New Year's Holidays. When people hear Nagano , their brains immediately start projecting skiing montages: powder snow, mountain peaks, and some heroic skier flying through the air in glorious slow motion. Understandable, since Nagano Prefecture is often referred to as the "Roof of Japan", surrounded by enough mountains to make a Swiss person feel strangely… at home. But h

The KFC near our house has finally re-opened after months of refurbishment. I haven’t stepped inside yet, but peeking through the door I spotted the shiny new self-ordering machines, which are on the rise wherever you look. Because nothing says ‘holiday cheer’ quite like tapping a screen to beg for fried chicken while a robot silently judges your choices. But with staff shortages and rising cost, it’s the world we live in. You want chicken? You better learn to negotiate with

Every December, my inner Swiss wakes up and begins reminiscing about a very specific childhood ritual: the annual hunt for the perfect Christmas tree. We would head to the supermarket or the village square, where hundreds of trees were lined up like contestants in a beauty pageant. Tall, short, skinny, round, slightly wonky – all waiting to be chosen as someone's living-room centrepiece. And if you were feeling extra rustic, you would venture out to a proper Christmas tree fa

No matter how long we live abroad, how well we master the language, or how convincingly we nod at jokes we don’t quite understand, our stomachs eventually betray us. Assimilation may work on the outside, but deep inside, the gut is waving a little national flag and shouting, “Feed me what I grew up with!” Take my Japanese wife. Though our daily meals are mostly Western, she is occasionally seized by an undeniable, primal urge for pickled plums or hot miso soup. And of course,

It’s that magical time of year again – the air is crisp, the leaves are turning gold, and my inner Swiss is screaming for those Swiss delights that remind me of my childhood. Yes, winter is here, and with it comes the irresistible craving for raclette and fondue, those glorious dairy-based dishes that warm both the belly and the soul. So off I trotted to our favourite upscale supermarket, visions of bubbling cheese and crusty bread dancing in my head. This place had always be

There are moments in life when you realise just how differently countries operate. Take car licence plates, for instance. Here are some facts about Swiss number plates that may surprise you. 🏷️ 1. Licence Plates for Life – Like Marriage, But More Binding In most countries, plates belong to the car. Easy. Logical. Efficient. Predictable. Switzerland looked at that idea and said: “Nein. Too easy.” In Switzerland, your plates belong to you. Forever. You don't just register a ve