logo
Pipilotti Rist's Hypnotic Landscapes Take Shape at UCCA Beijing

Pipilotti Rist's Hypnotic Landscapes Take Shape at UCCA Beijing

Hypebeast6 days ago
Pipilotti Risthas spent three decades reworking the relationship between video art and and the human body through hypnotic fields of touch and color. The Swiss artist recently landed at Beijing'sUCCA Center for Contemporary Arts, where she unveiledYour Palm is My Universe, her latest immersive solo exhibition.
Curated by Yan Fang, the exhibition presents an elaborate showcase of Rist's pioneering practice, from name-making pieces like,'I'm Not the Girl Who Misses Much'(1986) and'You Called Me Jacky'(1990) to never-before-seen works, including a new, large-scale video installation — the museum's largest commission to date. With roots in ecological thought and Taoist philosophy, her sensorial works offer poetic alternatives to the algorithmic logic of image culture.
Grounding the show is'Your Palm is My Universe'(2025), a newly commissioned installation that transforms UCCA's Great Hall into a cinematic, dreamlike atmosphere. Loops of hands, feet and faces punctuate draping veils of fabric, as Rist reimagines the space as a 'collective organism' against the backdrop an ambient soundscape by Surma. The piece confronts constellations of bodily reality as light and sound ripple through the hall.
Alongside the titular installation, the'Heaven on Earth'wall mural and'Spring Chaoyang Chandelier'of pink swimsuits, build on this exploration of the individual-collective body through ideas of social codes, intimacy and public presentation.
Rist, whose art has long meditated on vulnerability, innocence and the emotional toll of modern life, conjures a luminous world that finds wonder amidst the chaos of information overload. In a recent statement, the museum wrote: 'This exhibition is a hypnotically vivid reflection of Rist's enduring vision of art as a space for empathy, renewal, and imagination to come alive for embodied existence.'
The exhibition is now onviewin Beijing through October 19.
UCCA Center for Contemporary Art4 Jiuxianqiao Rd, Chaoyang,Beijing, China, 100102
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

US woman with tattoos and nose piercing may be descendent of Queen Victoria's secret lovechild
US woman with tattoos and nose piercing may be descendent of Queen Victoria's secret lovechild

New York Post

time7 hours ago

  • New York Post

US woman with tattoos and nose piercing may be descendent of Queen Victoria's secret lovechild

A Midwestern therapist with a mullet, tattoos and nose piercing may be a descendant of Queen Victoria's secret lovechild, a British historian has claimed. Angela Webb-Milinkovich, a mental-health practitioner from Minnesota, was named as a possible living testament to a scandalous affair between the British monarch and her devoted manservant, John Brown, by historian Fern Riddell. Webb-Milinkovich, who is in her 40s, according to online records, doesn't look like a royal but is prepared to get a DNA test to prove whether she is. 3 Angela Webb-Milinkovich, a healthcare worker in Minnesota, may be a living descendant of Queen Victoria's secret lovechild. bettylooper/Instagram Advertisement 'I feel pretty confident that there's some legitimacy to [the theory],' Webb-Milinkovich told the Times of London. 'It's not something that I myself would ever be able to confirm. 'The story that my family grew up with is that John Brown and Queen Victoria had a romantic relationship,' she said, referring to the loyal aide who the royal matriarch became particularly close to after her husband Prince Albert's death. 'They went on a long boat journey. After that, a child was produced, and from that child came my family's lineage,' Webb-Milinkovich said of Brown and the queen. Advertisement 3 Queen Victoria asked to be buried with a picture of her manservant and suspected lover John Brown. Rumors have swirled that Mary Ann Brown, Webb-Milinkovich's great-grandmother, was their lovechild. Victoria and Brown's closeness sparked rumors in Britain, and in 1866, a Swiss newspaper reported the pair had secretly married. Victoria even dedicated her book on highland life, published after Brown died in 1883, to him and asked to be buried with his picture. Advertisement 3 Brown was suspiciously close to blue-blooded boss Victoria, some historians say. The rumored affair was the subject of the 1997 movie 'Mrs Brown,' which won Dame Judi Dench an Oscar nomination for her portrayal of Victoria. Although the alleged affair has been dismissed by many historians, Riddell said she has unearthed new evidence indicating a relationship. The evidence includes a cast of Brown's hand ordered by the monarch in the days after his death, something she had previously done for her late husband. Advertisement A previously secret diary entry from Victoria also describes how she and her 'beloved John' confessed their love for each other. 'Their relationship has been downplayed and sanitized,' Riddell told the Times of London. 'I hope we give John Brown back his place in history and his legacy, which is that he was Victoria's de facto royal consort for 20 years,' said the researcher, author of the book 'Victoria's Secret.'

Following Euros travel tips from Switzerland and Arsenal midfielder Lia Walti
Following Euros travel tips from Switzerland and Arsenal midfielder Lia Walti

Yahoo

time3 days ago

  • Yahoo

Following Euros travel tips from Switzerland and Arsenal midfielder Lia Walti

No one has been a better ambassador for the European Championship in Switzerland than Lia Walti. A key part of Arsenal's midfield for nearly a decade, Walti is even more crucial to the Swiss national team. She captains the side and is one of the only women to have started every game in a major tournament for Switzerland. She made her debut at 18 years old and helped the country to its first World Cup (2015) and Euros (2017) appearances. However, last year, the 32-year-old took on a new role as an unofficial travel agent. Before the Euros started, Walti created an Instagram account, called @lias_switzerland, in which she went through the highlights of her country, including a breakdown of all eight host cities. Eventually, her Arsenal and Swiss team-mates got involved. This summer, Switzerland made it out of the group stage before ultimately falling to Spain in the quarter-finals. Before Germany's performance in the semi-final, Switzerland had the best defensive performance against the World Cup winners, holding them scoreless until the 66th minute. Despite the exit, Switzerland will have plenty of positives to take away, from record crowds to the inevitable hosting bump that England and the Netherlands saw in 2022 and 2017 respectively. In the run-up to Sunday's final between England and Spain, The Athletic made it to all eight host cities, each with its own unique view. However, for the sake of brevity and leaving a reason to come back, we have narrowed our list to four cities to highlight. Forgive us, Walti, for leaving off the following. Sion and Thun were charming excursions during the group stage. Geneva was bustling with life, chocolate and water spouts, but much of that experience was watching England and Italy go down to the wire in the semi-finals. Basel, a city known for its art and the thrilling quarter-final between France and Germany (made all the more exciting due to its proximity to both countries), will host the final. Walti suggests a swim in the Rhine, though the weather might not be so kind. Still, the cobblestone streets and stadium built to capture all the noise will be a fitting send-off. Alongside our football coverage, our writers found a way to turn climbing mountains, visiting fairytale-like towns and swimming in pristine rivers into football coverage. As Euro 2025 comes to an end, here are four cities that left a lasting impression on our writers. Lucerne Matches: Wales vs Netherlands, Poland vs Sweden, Poland vs Denmark Like a robust Walti challenge in the first five minutes of a game, Lucerne's beauty lets you know it's there from the off. Lake Lucerne is waiting immediately as you exit the railway station, a sprawling body of shimmering turquoise. Like so much of the water in Switzerland, it's outrageously clear, blue and inviting, and you do wonder what the Swiss must think if they rock up to a UK beach, the harsh, grey English Channel glaring back at them. As per Walti's instructions, I take a stroll along the promenade. Nestled snugly on the edge of the lake is a fleet of pedalos. Walti has, after all, suggested a river cruise, and this would be a cruise, of sorts. I skim The Athletic's expenses policy, but a section regarding the hire of pedalos and other recreational human-powered watercraft is notably absent. Making a mental note to raise this with HR, I take the journey on foot instead. Most cities would be content with just a lake, but Lucerne goes above and beyond. The lake is set against the backdrop of the Rigi and Pilatus mountains, and is surrounded by buildings with turrets and spires, shuttered windows and red wooden beams — the sort of places I'd assumed only existed on Christmas cards. Lucerne's like your one mate who somehow always looks effortlessly good in photos, whatever the angle. Next on the agenda is the Museggmauer, and I walk there via the Kapellbrucke, which Walti has reliably informed us is 'the world's oldest surviving wooden bridge'. Dating back to the 14th century, the bridge arches are decorated with paintings depicting scenes from Swiss history — many of which have been restored following a fire in 1993. The lake is on one side, the Reuss river on the other. It's prime photo opportunity territory and it is bustling with visitors. The Museggmauer is Lucerne's medieval city wall and consists of 'nine towers you can actually climb'. With my legs feeling fresh following a lack of pedalo action, bring on the nine towers. A sign outside the first tower — Mannliturm — explains that you can only climb three of the towers right to the top, before adding ominously: 'Visit at your own risk.' Undeterred, I attack the first staircase with purpose, but the spring in my step has waned as the staircases just keep coming. One fellow tower enthusiast pauses on the descent to stretch her quadriceps muscle. A young child, no older than three or four, exclaims 'phew' after scaling one particularly steep, narrow set of stairs, shaking his head and wiping his brow with all the world-weariness of a man 50 years his senior. It's 125 stairs to the top, but when you reach the summit, your shortness of breath and that twinge in your thigh are instantly forgotten. It's an amazing view. I thought Lucerne was stunning on the ground, but from up here, it's quite frankly showing off. I meander back along the city walls and around the lake — taking one last, lingering look at the pedalos — before heading for the train home. Ali Rampling St. Gallen Matches: Germany vs Poland, France vs Wales, England vs Wales I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest Walti did not make her hiking recommendations for St. Gallen with the idea of it being barely 10C (50F) and raining. But here I am, at the top of a mountain, waving at some non-plussed cows and wondering how to warm up my toes as they cold-plunge in my boots. 'Chill in Drei Weieren (the scenic ponds above the city) or take in a panoramic view with a hike up to Freudenberg.' These were Walti's challenges I accepted on a Tuesday morning ahead of the Group D match between France and Wales, armed with a peanut butter Cliff bar and then-dry socks. I'm lactose intolerant and (an attempted) vegan, meaning Walti's recommendations for bratwurst were a no. While I can't speak for a sunny day, a grey and rainy one still does this hike to the top more than enough justice. I meander out of the old town's cobblestones and climb flights of wooden stairs, whose tops disappear into thick fog. The effect is Led Zeppelin (Gen Z, Google this). Upon reaching the top, there is St. Gallen below, a compact Christmas town to pack up and build under the tree in December. At the top, there is a pond with lily pads, the rain parachuting down atop their pink flowers. Beside it, a makeshift pool with diving boards, designated lanes, and bleachers for a swim competition. At this point, I'm pretty rain-drenched, so I figure chilling in that water is overkill. But my iPhone weather app (rookie error) tells me the rain is clearing up, so I decide to move into the forest and scale the seeder paths to the top to see the fuss about Freudenberg. The miles-high pine trees offer some reprieve from the drumming rain. I should mention at this point, I'm clearly the only human dumb enough to make this journey in these conditions. Companions consist of one scampering squirrel and a few flitting birds the size of my fist. As the rain continues and fog begins to roll through the branches, the woods feel enchantingly brooding. I have a theory that green looks better against grey, its effervescence more stated. In St. Gallen, I feel I have enough evidence to christen my theory factual. Eventually, my climb leaves me staring at the treetops I once craned my neck upwards to consider. The rain is belting it, little rivers sluicing through my trails. I wish I had more photographic evidence, but I opted against waterboarding my only form of communication in case of emergency. To make a long story short, there are non-plussed cows at the top of St. Gallen, and the view is enrapturing, even in the cascading rain. As far as the Abbey library, another of Walti's recommendations while in St. Gallen, goes: stunning and, more importantly, dry. 10/10. The Abbey is not really a library but a literary oasis. Apparently, it's won 1,000 library awards. If you want to pretend you've traded yourself into the town's local monster to secure your dad's safety and then sing to some talking humans-turned-pieces-of-furniture, this is arguably as close as you're going to get. Everything is gilded. There is a globe the size of my bathroom back home. It is prettier than everything I have ever and will ever own. The rest of St. Gallen is charming. Quaint and intimate streets melt into each other before rising high into old, quintessentially Swiss buildings. To walk through the old town is to walk through not just history, but peace. It is difficult to imagine feeling stressed about a water bill here. Megan Feringa Zurich Matches: France vs England, England vs Netherlands, Sweden vs Germany, Sweden vs England, Germany vs Spain 'What you can do today, do tomorrow. Go for a swim, have a drink,' read a sign in the industrial quarter, to the north-west of Zurich's city centre. Mission accepted. I jump into the deep, greeny-blue water of the Limmat river. Its temperature is not the freezing kind that takes your breath away, but a cool tonic to the blazing heat. Watch out for rogue bits of foliage, and after rainfall, the current is strong, making swimming upstream a real workout. When you go with the flow, however, you feel like superwoman propelled by the river's force. Indeed, some Swiss residents use the current to commute to work. Using a waterproof bag as a pillow, they float down on their backs, passing by other locals who are reading, sunbathing, doing yoga or playing volleyball on the adjacent river banks. It's a very outdoorsy, chilled vibe. Lifeguards are on hand and the river is closed to swimmers when the current is deemed too dangerous. I can't quite erase the image of taking a breath to the side as I front crawl, putting my head down and seeing a floating whitish grey blob with a long tail inches away from me. Walti failed to mention the prospect of encountering a dead rat in the river, but I suppose that's the beauty of swimming in the wild. I was in Zurich for much of the tournament because it was closest to England's base, and that encounter with the rat did not deter me from returning every day. Overall, a top recommendation and a tournament game-changer. Replenish your energy stores in one of the bars and cafes lining the river. Keep walking and you pass through Altstadt (Zurich's old town). The bells of the majestic churches Fraumunster (Women's Minster) and Grossmunster (Great Minster), located on either side of the river, ring out while small motor boats covered with beige and blue jackets bob up and down on the water. There's a charming miniature bronze model of the old town, which gives you a sense of the city's scale. Walk up the wide, cobbled streets to Linderhof gardens, where locals play on gigantic chess boards and the view below captures the old town and river leading to Lake Zurich, another haven for swimmers. Charlotte Harpur Bern Matches: Spain vs Portugal, Switzerland vs Iceland, Italy vs Spain, Spain vs Switzerland I owe Bern an apology. For some reason (not worth me beginning to justify now I've realised I'm wrong), I always imagined Bern to be a boring, businesslike capital city, a la Brussels, and thought the main Swiss attractions were to be found elsewhere in the country. But no! Bern is one of the most striking, elegant capital cities imaginable. Especially in the sunshine and with Italy and Spain fans bringing extra colour ahead of their Group B finale, all blues and reds, to the city centre. On a day like this, you simply don't want to be inside. So forgive me for ignoring Walti's tip of Einstein Haus and the Einstein Museum, which I'm sure are wonderful, but I walk past. I'm largely committing to Walti's first tip: 'Strolling through the arcaded Old Town — 6km of covered walkways and medieval charm.' This is my natural approach to a new city, just wandering around, and I've clocked up 8.4km by the time I head towards the stadium so I'm confident I've completed a good proportion of those 6km. The old town is magnificent, full of grand buildings, elegant shops, and restaurants that feel calmer than their equivalents in, say, Florence or Munich. There's minimal traffic. It is almost encircled by a meander of the Aare river, making it feel like an island city. The river, like many in Switzerland, is impossibly blue because of the glacial flour in the water coming down from the Alps. Having swam in the river back in Zurich on several days so far, I don't feel much desire to 'swim in the Aare river — or float with the current like a local', although I deeply admire the locals' faith in the waterproof bags that they throw their wallet, phone and sunglasses into, before sweeping around the bends, swimming more to stay afloat than to actually propel themselves. Strolling up the Kramgasse, one of the main streets in the old town, I reach another of Walti's recommendations almost accidentally. 'Visit the famous Zytglogge (clock tower) and watch the figures dance on the hour.' I arrived at 2:53pm. This was quite promising; cometh the hour, cometh the men. I'm sorry to say that it was somewhat underwhelming and 200 or so fellow tourists assembled to take videos, then looked around at each other, wondering if that was it. But, peeling back towards the river, I come across a scene that sums up this tournament: an Italy supporter and a Spain supporter, sitting on some stone steps in the shade, having a beer together, and just admiring the view. Michael Cox This article originally appeared in The Athletic. Arsenal, International Football, Women's Soccer, Culture, Women's Euros 2025 The Athletic Media Company

Following Euros travel tips from Switzerland and Arsenal midfielder Lia Walti
Following Euros travel tips from Switzerland and Arsenal midfielder Lia Walti

New York Times

time3 days ago

  • New York Times

Following Euros travel tips from Switzerland and Arsenal midfielder Lia Walti

No one has been a better ambassador for the European Championship in Switzerland than Lia Walti. A key part of Arsenal's midfield for nearly a decade, Walti is even more crucial to the Swiss national team. She captains the side and is one of the only women to have started every game in a major tournament for Switzerland. She made her debut at 18 years old and helped the country to its first World Cup (2015) and Euros (2017) appearances. Advertisement However, last year, the 32-year-old took on a new role as an unofficial travel agent. Before the Euros started, Walti created an Instagram account, called @lias_switzerland, in which she went through the highlights of her country, including a breakdown of all eight host cities. Eventually, her Arsenal and Swiss team-mates got involved. This summer, Switzerland made it out of the group stage before ultimately falling to Spain in the quarter-finals. Before Germany's performance in the semi-final, Switzerland had the best defensive performance against the World Cup winners, holding them scoreless until the 66th minute. Despite the exit, Switzerland will have plenty of positives to take away, from record crowds to the inevitable hosting bump that England and the Netherlands saw in 2022 and 2017 respectively. A post shared by Lia Wälti (@liawaelti) In the run-up to Sunday's final between England and Spain, The Athletic made it to all eight host cities, each with its own unique view. However, for the sake of brevity and leaving a reason to come back, we have narrowed our list to four cities to highlight. Forgive us, Walti, for leaving off the following. Sion and Thun were charming excursions during the group stage. Geneva was bustling with life, chocolate and water spouts, but much of that experience was watching England and Italy go down to the wire in the semi-finals. Basel, a city known for its art and the thrilling quarter-final between France and Germany (made all the more exciting due to its proximity to both countries), will host the final. Walti suggests a swim in the Rhine, though the weather might not be so kind. Still, the cobblestone streets and stadium built to capture all the noise will be a fitting send-off. Alongside our football coverage, our writers found a way to turn climbing mountains, visiting fairytale-like towns and swimming in pristine rivers into football coverage. As Euro 2025 comes to an end, here are four cities that left a lasting impression on our writers. Matches: Wales vs Netherlands, Poland vs Sweden, Poland vs Denmark Like a robust Walti challenge in the first five minutes of a game, Lucerne's beauty lets you know it's there from the off. Lake Lucerne is waiting immediately as you exit the railway station, a sprawling body of shimmering turquoise. Like so much of the water in Switzerland, it's outrageously clear, blue and inviting, and you do wonder what the Swiss must think if they rock up to a UK beach, the harsh, grey English Channel glaring back at them. Advertisement As per Walti's instructions, I take a stroll along the promenade. Nestled snugly on the edge of the lake is a fleet of pedalos. Walti has, after all, suggested a river cruise, and this would be a cruise, of sorts. I skim The Athletic's expenses policy, but a section regarding the hire of pedalos and other recreational human-powered watercraft is notably absent. Making a mental note to raise this with HR, I take the journey on foot instead. Most cities would be content with just a lake, but Lucerne goes above and beyond. The lake is set against the backdrop of the Rigi and Pilatus mountains, and is surrounded by buildings with turrets and spires, shuttered windows and red wooden beams — the sort of places I'd assumed only existed on Christmas cards. Lucerne's like your one mate who somehow always looks effortlessly good in photos, whatever the angle. Next on the agenda is the Museggmauer, and I walk there via the Kapellbrucke, which Walti has reliably informed us is 'the world's oldest surviving wooden bridge'. Dating back to the 14th century, the bridge arches are decorated with paintings depicting scenes from Swiss history — many of which have been restored following a fire in 1993. The lake is on one side, the Reuss river on the other. It's prime photo opportunity territory and it is bustling with visitors. The Museggmauer is Lucerne's medieval city wall and consists of 'nine towers you can actually climb'. With my legs feeling fresh following a lack of pedalo action, bring on the nine towers. A sign outside the first tower — Mannliturm — explains that you can only climb three of the towers right to the top, before adding ominously: 'Visit at your own risk.' Undeterred, I attack the first staircase with purpose, but the spring in my step has waned as the staircases just keep coming. One fellow tower enthusiast pauses on the descent to stretch her quadriceps muscle. A young child, no older than three or four, exclaims 'phew' after scaling one particularly steep, narrow set of stairs, shaking his head and wiping his brow with all the world-weariness of a man 50 years his senior. Advertisement It's 125 stairs to the top, but when you reach the summit, your shortness of breath and that twinge in your thigh are instantly forgotten. It's an amazing view. I thought Lucerne was stunning on the ground, but from up here, it's quite frankly showing off. I meander back along the city walls and around the lake — taking one last, lingering look at the pedalos — before heading for the train home. Ali Rampling Matches: Germany vs Poland, France vs Wales, England vs Wales I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest Walti did not make her hiking recommendations for St. Gallen with the idea of it being barely 10C (50F) and raining. But here I am, at the top of a mountain, waving at some non-plussed cows and wondering how to warm up my toes as they cold-plunge in my boots. 'Chill in Drei Weieren (the scenic ponds above the city) or take in a panoramic view with a hike up to Freudenberg.' These were Walti's challenges I accepted on a Tuesday morning ahead of the Group D match between France and Wales, armed with a peanut butter Cliff bar and then-dry socks. I'm lactose intolerant and (an attempted) vegan, meaning Walti's recommendations for bratwurst were a no. While I can't speak for a sunny day, a grey and rainy one still does this hike to the top more than enough justice. I meander out of the old town's cobblestones and climb flights of wooden stairs, whose tops disappear into thick fog. The effect is Led Zeppelin (Gen Z, Google this). Upon reaching the top, there is St. Gallen below, a compact Christmas town to pack up and build under the tree in December. At the top, there is a pond with lily pads, the rain parachuting down atop their pink flowers. Beside it, a makeshift pool with diving boards, designated lanes, and bleachers for a swim competition. At this point, I'm pretty rain-drenched, so I figure chilling in that water is overkill. But my iPhone weather app (rookie error) tells me the rain is clearing up, so I decide to move into the forest and scale the seeder paths to the top to see the fuss about Freudenberg. The miles-high pine trees offer some reprieve from the drumming rain. I should mention at this point, I'm clearly the only human dumb enough to make this journey in these conditions. Advertisement Companions consist of one scampering squirrel and a few flitting birds the size of my fist. As the rain continues and fog begins to roll through the branches, the woods feel enchantingly brooding. I have a theory that green looks better against grey, its effervescence more stated. In St. Gallen, I feel I have enough evidence to christen my theory factual. Eventually, my climb leaves me staring at the treetops I once craned my neck upwards to consider. The rain is belting it, little rivers sluicing through my trails. I wish I had more photographic evidence, but I opted against waterboarding my only form of communication in case of emergency. To make a long story short, there are non-plussed cows at the top of St. Gallen, and the view is enrapturing, even in the cascading rain. As far as the Abbey library, another of Walti's recommendations while in St. Gallen, goes: stunning and, more importantly, dry. 10/10. The Abbey is not really a library but a literary oasis. Apparently, it's won 1,000 library awards. If you want to pretend you've traded yourself into the town's local monster to secure your dad's safety and then sing to some talking humans-turned-pieces-of-furniture, this is arguably as close as you're going to get. Everything is gilded. There is a globe the size of my bathroom back home. It is prettier than everything I have ever and will ever own. The rest of St. Gallen is charming. Quaint and intimate streets melt into each other before rising high into old, quintessentially Swiss buildings. To walk through the old town is to walk through not just history, but peace. It is difficult to imagine feeling stressed about a water bill here. Megan Feringa Matches: France vs England, England vs Netherlands, Sweden vs Germany, Sweden vs England, Germany vs Spain 'What you can do today, do tomorrow. Go for a swim, have a drink,' read a sign in the industrial quarter, to the north-west of Zurich's city centre. Mission accepted. I jump into the deep, greeny-blue water of the Limmat river. Its temperature is not the freezing kind that takes your breath away, but a cool tonic to the blazing heat. Watch out for rogue bits of foliage, and after rainfall, the current is strong, making swimming upstream a real workout. When you go with the flow, however, you feel like superwoman propelled by the river's force. Advertisement Indeed, some Swiss residents use the current to commute to work. Using a waterproof bag as a pillow, they float down on their backs, passing by other locals who are reading, sunbathing, doing yoga or playing volleyball on the adjacent river banks. It's a very outdoorsy, chilled vibe. Lifeguards are on hand and the river is closed to swimmers when the current is deemed too dangerous. I can't quite erase the image of taking a breath to the side as I front crawl, putting my head down and seeing a floating whitish grey blob with a long tail inches away from me. Walti failed to mention the prospect of encountering a dead rat in the river, but I suppose that's the beauty of swimming in the wild. I was in Zurich for much of the tournament because it was closest to England's base, and that encounter with the rat did not deter me from returning every day. Overall, a top recommendation and a tournament game-changer. Replenish your energy stores in one of the bars and cafes lining the river. Keep walking and you pass through Altstadt (Zurich's old town). The bells of the majestic churches Fraumunster (Women's Minster) and Grossmunster (Great Minster), located on either side of the river, ring out while small motor boats covered with beige and blue jackets bob up and down on the water. There's a charming miniature bronze model of the old town, which gives you a sense of the city's scale. Walk up the wide, cobbled streets to Linderhof gardens, where locals play on gigantic chess boards and the view below captures the old town and river leading to Lake Zurich, another haven for swimmers. Charlotte Harpur Matches: Spain vs Portugal, Switzerland vs Iceland, Italy vs Spain, Spain vs Switzerland I owe Bern an apology. For some reason (not worth me beginning to justify now I've realised I'm wrong), I always imagined Bern to be a boring, businesslike capital city, a la Brussels, and thought the main Swiss attractions were to be found elsewhere in the country. But no! Bern is one of the most striking, elegant capital cities imaginable. Especially in the sunshine and with Italy and Spain fans bringing extra colour ahead of their Group B finale, all blues and reds, to the city centre. Advertisement On a day like this, you simply don't want to be inside. So forgive me for ignoring Walti's tip of Einstein Haus and the Einstein Museum, which I'm sure are wonderful, but I walk past. I'm largely committing to Walti's first tip: 'Strolling through the arcaded Old Town — 6km of covered walkways and medieval charm.' This is my natural approach to a new city, just wandering around, and I've clocked up 8.4km by the time I head towards the stadium so I'm confident I've completed a good proportion of those 6km. The old town is magnificent, full of grand buildings, elegant shops, and restaurants that feel calmer than their equivalents in, say, Florence or Munich. There's minimal traffic. It is almost encircled by a meander of the Aare river, making it feel like an island city. The river, like many in Switzerland, is impossibly blue because of the glacial flour in the water coming down from the Alps. Having swam in the river back in Zurich on several days so far, I don't feel much desire to 'swim in the Aare river — or float with the current like a local', although I deeply admire the locals' faith in the waterproof bags that they throw their wallet, phone and sunglasses into, before sweeping around the bends, swimming more to stay afloat than to actually propel themselves. Strolling up the Kramgasse, one of the main streets in the old town, I reach another of Walti's recommendations almost accidentally. 'Visit the famous Zytglogge (clock tower) and watch the figures dance on the hour.' I arrived at 2:53pm. This was quite promising; cometh the hour, cometh the men. I'm sorry to say that it was somewhat underwhelming and 200 or so fellow tourists assembled to take videos, then looked around at each other, wondering if that was it. But, peeling back towards the river, I come across a scene that sums up this tournament: an Italy supporter and a Spain supporter, sitting on some stone steps in the shade, having a beer together, and just admiring the view. Michael Cox

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store