Zurich

Every so often the bellringers of Zurich compete to decide who can ring the longest and loudest. (At least it sounds that way.) This is only one of the quaint touches that gives the Old Town a medieval feel with its winding cobblestone streets, elegant spires and sculptured fountains.

From my hotel window you can watch graceful white swans gliding along the sparkling clean river that neatly divides the city in two. Nearly everything is orderly here. If the Cabaret Voltaire, former home of the anarchic Dadaists, has been tagged with graffiti, surely that's only fitting.

Protestant zeal stripped the local churches of all images, leaving them as bare as a mosque in Amman. But the museums make up for this sparseness with extraordinarily rich collections. Speaking of wealth, the expensive stores are closed on Sunday (more Protestant rigour)- less temptation for the window-shoppers.

There's a relaxed, cosmopolitan crowd at the lakeside this evening. Only a distant brassband and the occasional applause for marathon runners disturbs the serenity.