Rainy afternoon reflections after the FIFA museum

It's been raining on and off all day in Zurich. I'm sitting in a small café near my hotel, watching droplets race down the window while nursing my third coffee of the day. The café is quiet at this hour – just a few locals tapping away on laptops and an elderly couple sharing a pastry in the corner. Perfect for gathering thoughts.

I spent most of the morning at the FIFA World Football Museum, which opened at 10:00. I arrived at 9:50 (as one does) and waited under my umbrella as a light drizzle fell. The museum itself was surprisingly engaging, even for someone who isn't particularly passionate about football. The interactive exhibits tracing the history of the World Cup were especially fascinating – seeing how a simple game evolved into perhaps the world's most unifying cultural phenomenon.

What struck me most was the section on football diplomacy – how the sport has occasionally succeeded where traditional politics failed. There was a compelling display about matches played between nations during active conflicts. It reminded me of the discussions at the Geneva Peace Week closing ceremony just a few days ago – different approaches to the same human challenge of finding connection across divides.

After the museum, I wandered through the wet streets until I found a small restaurant for lunch. I ordered rösti with a fried egg on top – comfort food for a rainy day. The crispy potato pancake was exactly what I needed, though I couldn't finish it all. Swiss portions are generous.

The rain intensified after lunch, so I decided against my planned walk along Lake Zurich. Instead, I ducked into the Kunsthaus Zurich for a couple of hours. The modern art collection was impressive, particularly the works by Alberto Giacometti. His elongated, fragile-looking sculptures seemed to capture something essential about human vulnerability.

Now, sitting with my coffee and watching the rain, I'm thinking about how quickly my time in Switzerland is passing. I've been in the country for only five days – first Geneva, now Zurich – but I feel like I've absorbed so much. The efficiency, the precision, the attention to detail that pervades everything from public transportation to museum curation – it's all quite comforting in its reliability.

I realize I've been unconsciously seeking patterns in my journey. Fifty-five days in, with 445 still ahead, I'm looking for rhythms and structures to make sense of this massive undertaking. Perhaps that's why Switzerland has felt so comfortable – there's an underlying order to everything here that appeals to my need for some semblance of predictability in this otherwise unpredictable adventure.

The rain is easing now. I should probably head back to the hotel soon to pack my things. I've enjoyed Zurich, with its pristine streets and clockwork transportation system. The cultural highlights – from the Titanic exhibition to ETH Zurich where Einstein once studied – have given me plenty to think about. But as with every place, there comes a time to move on.

Tomorrow, I'll board a train to... well, I haven't quite decided yet. That's the beauty of this journey – the next destination remains unwritten. The only certainty is that it will be different from here, and that difference is precisely what I'm seeking.

As I finish my coffee and prepare to step back into the light rain, I feel a curious mix of contentment with what I've experienced and anticipation for what lies ahead. Fifty-five days down, 445 to go. The journey continues.

Posted at 17:20 local time