cost. The salesperson, dressed in a crisp suit, smiled politely and showed me a watch that cost more than my entire trip. I let out a cough—loud enough to make nearby customers glance over—and mumbled something about “needing to check my budget.” I practically sprinted out of the store, my face redder than a Swiss flag. Note to self: Stick to window-shopping on Bahnhofstrasse unless you’re a millionaire (or have a very generous aunt).​

2. Lindenhof Hill: Roman Ruins and Giant Chessboards​

After escaping the pressure of Bahnhofstrasse’s luxury, I headed to Lindenhof Hill—a peaceful oasis overlooking Zurich’s Old Town. Perched on a small hill, this park offers panoramic views of the Limmat River, which winds through the city like a ribbon of lime-green soda.​

As I walked up the cobblestone path, I noticed a group of elderly men playing chess on a giant outdoor board. The pieces were as tall as small children, and the players took their moves so seriously, I half-expected them to pull out swords if someone made a bad move. I sat on a bench and watched, amused by their dramatic hand gestures and loud debates in Swiss German (a language that sounds like someone’s trying to speak German while eating a pretzel).​

But Lindenhof Hill isn’t just for chess lovers—it’s also a site of historical significance. During the Roman era, it was a strategic military outpost used to collect taxes from merchants traveling along the Limmat River. Back then, soldiers would charge a fee for every mule, cart, or boat passing through—sort of like an ancient toll booth. I laughed to myself thinking about how little has changed: today, Zurich still charges a pretty penny for everyday items. I once paid 8 Swiss francs (about $9) for a can of Coke at a convenience store—talk about a modern-day “mule tax”!​

As I explored the park, I stumbled upon a small stone wall that marked the remains of the Roman outpost. I leaned against it, half-expecting to smell the cigar smoke of Thomas Mann, the famous German author who wrote “The Magic Mountain” while living in Zurich. Mann often visited Lindenhof Hill to find inspiration, and I like to think his ghost still lingers here, watching over the city he loved.​

3. Fraumünster Church: Chagall’s Stained Glass and Reformation Fireworks​

No trip to Zurich is complete without a visit to Fraumünster Church, a Gothic masterpiece famous for its stunning stained glass windows designed by Marc Chagall. The moment I stepped inside, I was greeted by a flood of color—deep blues, vibrant reds, and shimmering golds that danced across the stone floors as sunlight filtered through the glass.​

Tourists around me stood with their heads tilted back, mouths open, like they’d all contracted a case of “neck tilt syndrome.” I joined them, staring at the windows in awe. Chagall’s designs tell stories from the Bible, but they’re not your typical religious art—they’re whimsical, dreamlike, and full of unexpected details (like a cow wearing a crown). It’s no wonder people travel from all over the world to see them.​

But Fraumünster Church has a more fiery history than its peaceful interior suggests. In the 16th century, it was at the center of the Protestant Reformation, led by Ulrich Zwingli—a Swiss priest who wanted to simplify the Catholic Church’s rituals. Zwingli believed that religious art, including statues and stained glass, was a distraction from God. So, in 1524, he and his followers marched into Fraumünster Church and destroyed most of the artwork, including the original stained glass windows. I like to imagine Zwingli as a 16th-century interior designer gone rogue—“Sorry, but this statue is just too extra. Out it goes!”​

Thankfully, the church was restored over the years, and Chagall’s windows we