More Than a Place 

I’m stargazing in Bern. On a clear night. The moon is nowhere to be found, and the Vegas-level light pollution from the Sternenmarkt isn’t enough to block the stars (fortunately). The sky is clear. I have an Aare Bier in one hand and then a Müntschi in the other. I’m standing on the terrace I dreamt about back in May. Yes, dreams do come true. Shooting stars and wishes. Life is good.

On the walk back, I listen to “Weisch Du no?” on repeat, drifting through streets that feel like home, but technically aren’t. Not yet. Still, my eyes are sparkling in that unmistakable way that only happens when you’re in love. And yes, I’m fully aware I’m saying this about a city. Irrational? Sure. But love has never exactly been a fan of logic.

Everything looks sharper here. The trees. The pavement. The lights. Suddenly Halunke’s line “Dr Neonliechthimu isch niene so schön wi hie” hits a little too close to the heart. Love really might be one of the strongest forces on earth, and somehow, I’m experiencing it… geographically. Wrapped in familiar scents. Held by bricks, stones, leaves. Everything feels alive. The city feels alive. Alive in a way that makes me want to find its invisible zipper, unzip it, and climb right inside.

It’s not that Bern is magical: even though, fine, it kind of is. It’s that it has something for me – I suppose. Something I’m only just beginning to understand. And I’m falling for it more with each trip, deliberately, savoring every step of the discovery.

So here’s my unsolicited conclusion: if you’re lucky enough to find a place on earth that your soul, mind, and body all agree on: go. If you feel that quiet, persistent pull toward a place, listen to it. Trust your gut. It’s worth it. I promise.