Lucerne is typically Swiss, with grandiose apartment blocks, all painted in bright nonsensical hues like the suburban houses from Edward Scissorhands. It’s expensive, it’s graffiti lead once you head out beyond the railway lines. The mountain Pilatus permeates the horizon, on a clear day the mountain offers a panoramic view of 73 Alpine peaks.



They don’t want trouble here. There’s no immigrants, no ethnic diversity. This town belongs to rich whitey and they want to keep it that way. You can’t even get a free glass of tap water in a restaurant, even if you spend over 50 francs for two bland burgers. I wish I could remember the name of the restaurant where this sinful practice goes on, but in reality, it’s the norm.



There is a beautiful bridge, The Kapellbrücke. A covered wooden footbridge spanning diagonally across the Reuss in the city of Lucerne. The bridge is unique because it contains a number of interior paintings dating back to the 17th century, although many of them were destroyed along with a larger part of the centuries-old bridge in a 1993 fire. I got a picture, but it doesn’t do it any kind of justice.





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