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About Lugano

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

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Naters, bruv, got little quirks. I was strollin' along Bergstrasse one rainy day, feelin' all moody n mad—rain drippin’, heart thumpin’—when I saw a graffiti that read "Goodbye to Language" in bold err, kinda remindin' me of my fav movie. So trippy, right?

Switzerland Travel Diaries: Behind the Scenes with Devils' Nico Hischier