From my bed at the 25hours Hotel Langstrasse, I watch the red‑and‑white cars of the Swiss national railway adjust their lines and slow on a topography of tracks, more than 20 wide, as they convey commuters into Zurich’s busy Hauptbahnhof station. In less than a minute, their passengers will disembark at the central station, exit hastily down its platforms, consult the ubiquitous Mondaine clocks and proceed promptly to work.
I, on the other hand, will roll over and tuck the cloudlike duvet around me. It’s Friday morning, the start of a lazy weekend in my adopted hometown. Today, Swiss time can wait.