Good morning, ohayogozaimasu, bonjour and bom dia. Wherever this column finds you today, I hope that you’re having a fresh and lively start to your Sunday. Over this way it’s a quick pit stop back home (23 hours) after 14 days in Hong Kong, Shanghai, Bangkok and Tokyo. Then it’s a peppy dash up to Copenhagen and across to Abu Dhabi before coming back to base on Friday. As there have been a lot of flights, terminals and early starts these past two weeks, aviation and the general state of it have been front of mind. And because it has been a while since we’ve had a Faster Lane quiz, I thought I would turn my observations into a series of questions that will hopefully challenge even Monocle’s most frequent flyers.

Of course, every quiz requires a prize, so if you’re a paying subscriber you get this rather fancy Trolley tote (valued at more than $400) and if you enjoy this newsletter for free and are yet to join the subs club then we will send along one of our new Cotton Tenugui designs from our summer 2026 collection. The cutoff for answers is 10.00 Zürich time on Monday. Ready? Here we go!

1.
Which airline has understood that the ground experience is integral to overall brand enjoyment and provided a lounge concept so good that you arrive early? A little clue: one of Monocle’s favourite designers is responsible for the award-winning approach.

2.
Name the European carrier with the best make-up and hair? And yes, I am talking about the girls and not the boys. Good heavens. Another clue: think Med.

3.
Staying with the aisles of an Airbus, which European airline wins for having the most masculine, capable crew and consistently good beards? And yes, I am talking about male crew.

4.
Can you name the carrier that has a newish in-flight safety video in which the passengers who have been cast for this film are so dreamy, medicated and generally checked out that they don’t stand a chance of evacuating an aircraft that has done a belly landing?

5.
Which supposedly premium airline has made the very bad decision to remove all magazines (including Monocle) from the front of its long-haul aircraft? What will the crew now read during those endless hours crisscrossing the Arctic?

6.
Can you name the Asian airline that has no sense of how to conduct service on a six-hour, north-south, overnight flight and thinks it best to just serve dinner, then go straight into breakfast and clatter the night away with the clanking of cutlery and crockery?

7.
Which carrier has had the good sense to build loyalty and create a sense of occasion by introducing a collectable series of destination-focused ceramics for its top customers?

8.
Name the G7 nation that is technologically advanced and a master of big infrastructure and innovative design solutions – but somehow continues to have the most arse-backward immigration and arrivals procedure. 

9.
Which airline has chosen to fill its home tarmac with decommissioned, sun-baked Boeings and Airbuses when these hulls should really be sitting mothballed in Jordan or Arizona and away from its newer fleet? Talk about a brand killer.

10.
What is the most efficient, perfectly designed, best little hub in the Gulf, and will be even better when the home carrier takes delivery of more long-haul aircraft?

P.S. Bonus question: Who used to fly 747s from London to their base at the far end of the Med and had Sunday roast beef trolley service, complete with dangerously long carving utensils? I’m talking very early 1990s here.

Send your answers to tb@monocle.com and if you’re enjoying life in ‘The Faster Lane’, click here to browse all of Tyler’s past columns.

Though it started life as a technical-gear supplier, Italy’s Oberalp Group is reaching new peaks – quite literally. Still a key sports-brand distributor, the Bolzano-based company now owns a stable of notable mountain and outdoor brands. These include Wild Country, Evolv and the brand responsible for about half of the group’s revenue, Salewa.

Founded in Munich in 1935, Salewa has been part of Oberalp since 1990. The label aims to keep producing what it calls “equipment intended to change the game”, which includes everything from crampons to jackets. The brand also plans to use its Dolomites home as a backdrop to promote its lifestyle initiatives, capitalising on the increased popularity of outdoor brands such as Patagonia and North Face. With a healthy history of mergers and acquisitions, and a move into diversifying revenue streams with climbing gyms, Oberalp Group’s CEO, Christoph Engl, tells Monocle how he’s moving the business forward.

You’re headquartered near the mountains. Are your employees your testers?
We have 300 people here in Bolzano, where everyone is a tester. Some do it in a professional way; others are simply using the gear for hiking. Our employees are our first customers.

What role do climbing gyms play in your portfolio mix?
Oberalp Group wants to be recognised as having the most relevant mountain brands in the world today. A few years ago, we [noticed] that we were not covering the whole field, so we acquired Evolv in Los Angeles and decided to invest heavily in climbing gyms as a franchise product, [which we now] call Salewa Cube. 

Fifteen years ago we built our first climbing gym. At the time it was a novelty to have a climbing gym at our HQ, which is open to the public. It was conceived as a training centre for those going climbing in the Dolomites but it developed into something different: we now have 100,000 visitors a year. Of those, only 15 per cent are going out climbing. For [the rest], this is the mountain. If somebody wants to invest in this business, we will help them. We are planning to open in Varese and, at the end of the year, in Como. In 2027 we want to open about 10 spaces in key Italian cities. 

Do you see these new gyms as a brand extension?
We had a lot of internal discussions about the brand architecture because Evolv is [our label] that has climbing shoes in its portfolio. On the other hand, the awareness of Salewa in Italy – and this climbing gym in Bolzano – is high, so we decided to maintain this name as we develop, and Salewa Cube has become a new brand.

What needs to happen before you look at international expansion? 
We have a lot of requests from other companies outside Italy. Right now we need to concentrate on the established products that we have here but the plan is to export this idea to other countries. When it comes to franchise, it needs to be beneficial for all parties. 

You talk about the franchise model but the trend seems to be moving in a direction of owning one’s own retail channels. Do you have a target for an ideal split?
We opened our first [Salewa] shop 24 years ago in Finale Ligure, an area that was popular with climbers. Since then we have opened more than 100 shops in Europe, covering Salewa, Dynafit and Lamunt – about 60 per cent are franchises and 40 per cent are managed by us. We’re not only looking at distribution through [physical] retail. We have an e-commerce presence and we must learn from the customer’s [online] experience [through] their comments and reviews. We also have Mountain Shop, our biggest expansion. It’s a multi-label space and within it, we can’t only be distributing our own brands but also our competitors to serve the needs of the customer depending on the branch’s location. So that might mean more fashion products in Cortina and more climbing gear in Chamonix. 

Are you looking to increase your acquisitions? 
Every month we have two or three brands on our table that could be acquired. We receive a lot of offers and we must be wise about selection and how the company should develop. Sometimes it could be a strategic opportunity or the fulfilment of a certain need. For instance, we were looking to acquire a women’s brand but we didn’t find one, so we founded Lamunt. 

Salewa recently celebrated 90 years. Do anniversaries matter?
They do. Not many brands reach this age; many disappear long before this milestone. For our 90th anniversary, we created an audio file called “Pure Mountain”, outlining our future plans. We recorded it on a small chip and will listen to it again in 10 years when we reach a century. The most important thing now is how we get to 100.

Spicy, sour, sweet, salty and bitter: Thai cuisine celebrates harmony and transforms meals into experiences that engage the senses. Better still, a trip to this sunny nation gives visitors the opportunity to try its regional specialities. When in the north, sample authentic khao soi (noodle soup); in the centre, seek out sticky jasmine rice and refined royal cuisine; and in the south, enjoy ample seafood and bold, fiery curries. You needn’t fear going hungry at any hour – the readily available street food is unrivalled.

We cover all this and more in our latest travel guide, Thailand: The Monocle Handbook, available to pre-order now. Below, we select a few drinking-and-dining highlights from the book, from multicourse seafood feasts and reinterpretations of traditional fare to contemporary cafés and buzzy cocktail bars run by bright entrepreneurs.

1.
Charmkrung
Bangkok

This Thai tapas bar on Charoen Krung Road is the sister restaurant of Charmgang and Charmkok, both of which are nearby. “Our menu is an eclectic mix of takes on Thai drinking snacks, old-school recipes that don’t often make it onto menus and dishes that we have fun with, such as the Thai porchetta and pani puri with a crab salad,” says Kiki Sontiyart, co-founder of Charmkrung. As it closes at 23.00, it’s the perfect spot for late-night dining.
6th floor, 839 Charoen Krung Rd

2.
Blackitch Artisan Kitchen
Chiang Mai

Chiang Mai has one of the most exciting culinary scenes in the country. Its street food and professional kitchens blend modern creativity with many ethnic heritages, including Lan Na and hill-tribe traditions. Here, Phanuphol Bulsuwan, known as chef Black, serves a 10-course menu adapted every three months according to the season. “Our jungle curry kaeng paa uses jackfruit in three forms wrapped in a taco shell in a reinterpretation of a central-style dish,” says Bulsuwan. “The recipe uses traditional flavours and produce sourced nearby, interpreted through global techniques.”
blackitch.com 

3.
Kaen 
Khon Kaen

After a decade of working in the food industry together, Paisarn Cheewinsiriwat and Kanyarat “Jib” Thanomsaeng saw the opportunity to create their own place, putting emphasis on sourcing ingredients as close to the restaurant as possible. Their menu explores an array of Thai classics such as beef cooked with chestnuts and jackfruit seeds in a vibrant massaman sauce, and sea bass baked in parchment with a herb broth.
140/64 Soi Adulyaram 3 Nai Mueang

4.
Samut 
Phuket

Samut puts seafood at the heart of its multicourse tasting menu. Fresh catches are enhanced by local spices and prepared to southern taste. Banana shrimp and lobster can be found alongside tiger prawns and razor clams. Don’t miss the traditional Phuket dessert tu bo, which features root vegetables and coconut cream. 
samutphuket.com

5.
Easterly 
Chanthaburi

Motion-graphics designer Khanapong Pumarin established this local winner with the aim of channeling the community feel of a social club into a café that also moonlights as a bar. The concept and the smart interior – a timeless mix of bare brick, wood and exquisite lighting – has proved a success among young locals. There are even rooms for overnight stays. On the opposite side of the street is Cap, a café run by Pumarin’s sister.
182 Sukhaphiban Rd

6.
The Norm 
Bangkok

On big nights here, the decks will be spinning in two venues: The Main Hall and The Terrace, The Norm’s outdoor spritz bar. The Whispering Room – a speakeasy that serves Japanese whisky and plays jazz on vinyl – provides a more intimate atmosphere. Everything about The Norm, from the music to the dress code, has been designed to make it feel inviting. “We are in an expensive building but I don’t want this to feel too exclusive,” says founder Sitthan “Turk” Sa-Nguankun.
thenormbangkok.com 

7.
House of Suzy 
Koh Samui

UK-born New Zealander William Norbert-Munns relocated to Koh Samui in 2021, as the strain of running more than 20 business ventures in Cambodia encouraged him to seek out a slower pace of life. Unable to sit idle for long, the entrepreneur opened House of Suzy, a cocktail bar that caters for the creative residents of Lamai. It features deep burgundy tones and soft lighting in a sultry interior that nods to mid-century Shanghai. The menu includes handmade dim sum alongside reinvented classic cocktails.
houseofsuzylamai.com 

As the gates of the Venice Biennale open to the public today, the heavy doors of the Russian pavilion will close. The substantial security contingent pacing around the building’s perimeter was kept busy by protesters voicing their opposition to both Russia and Israel’s inclusion in this year’s festival.

On Wednesday, with hot pink balaclavas and even hotter fuchsia flares in tow, the art collective Pussy Riot’s chanting forced the Russian pavilion to temporarily close its doors. By the end of Vernissage – the preview week for press and VIPs – an impeccably dressed lone woman stood outside in a fedora, sunglasses and striking checked suit. But it wasn’t her style that kept a steady stream of smartphones and television-news cameras pointed in her direction. On her back was a sign that read: “NO PUTIN NO WAR”. The bright blue Birkin swinging idly from her arm was emblazoned with a crossed-out illustration of the Russian leader’s face. 

Elsewhere, Latvia’s pavilion (as it happens, an underrated gem of an exhibition in the Arsenale) launched a campaign titled “Death in Venice”. The Latvians are calling on visitors to print a specially designed graphic to show their opposition to Russia’s presence when heading to the Biennale. The campaign will run until November and signals that those ardently opposed to Russia’s pavilion don’t want their voices to fade as the press and VIPs vacate the city after Vernissage.  

On Friday, many visitors eagerly flocking to see this year’s most talked about pavilion were disappointed to find it closed all day. Austria’s exhibit is a performance featuring full nudity, bodily fluids and, just outside the pavilion doors, a topless woman who dangles from inside a giant bell. The lack of a naked female bell clapper was just one symptom of a 24-hour strike led by the Art Not Genocide Alliance group (Anga), which has shut down multiple national pavilions and included a rally by the Arsenale. The action was a response to the inclusion of Israel’s pavilion this year (albeit moved from its enviable spot in the Giardini to a less prestigious location elsewhere). While politics and art go hand in hand, this kind of demonstration is unprecedented in the Biennale’s recent history.   

The controversy has been coming to a boil for some time. Before Vernissage even began, a decision was made to replace the event’s Golden and Silver Lion awards with a Eurovision-style public vote in November. And then just days before the gates opened, the entire Biennale jury resigned over the pavilions. 

Understandably, the art itself has been excluded from much coverage of this week – compounded by a lack of prizes not creating the usual buzz over certain pavilions. The Biennale’s late curator, Koyo Kouoh, titled this year’s event “In Minor Keys”: her curatorial vision is all about subtlety, slowing down and tuning into quieter, more elusive signals. Instead, with the decision to include such contentious national pavilions, the Biennale administration has ensured that this Vernissage was dominated big statements and loud protests.

There was a particular pleasure in seeing the Cannes line-up and finding that the most anticipated conversations were not about Hollywood titles but instead about films in Spanish, Polish, Farsi, French and Flemish. The 2026 edition of the world’s most high-profile film festival feels, in the best possible sense, like a reflection of a world that is tired of buying into US exceptionalism. While there are American entries from filmmakers James Gray (Paper Tiger) and Ira Sachs (The Man I Love), Hollywood does not dominate the dialogue. The aftermath of the writers’ and actors’ strikes, a wave of controversial studio mergers, the prohibitive costs of shooting in Los Angeles, and an increasingly inhospitable climate  towards the arts in the US have collectively loosened Hollywood’s grip on cinema – and voices from elsewhere have filled the space.

The Croisette is a place where the world’s finest films find an audience. Leading the charge this year is Pedro Almodóvar, whose Amarga Navidad (Bitter Christmas) is generating a deafening buzz. This work of autofiction follows a struggling director who draws on the tragedy of one of his collaborators to write his next film. He creates Elsa, another filmmaker whose life begins to reflect his own.

Director Paweł Pawlikowski, who has previously made historical trauma into something intimate in Ida and Cold War, returns with Fatherland. A family returns to Germany after years of exile to reckon with cultural identity and the long aftermath of conflict. His casting of the always phenomenal Sandra Hüller (Toni Erdmann, Anatomy of a Fall, The Zone of Interest) suggests a project of considerable ambition. 

Asghar Farhadi brings Histoires Parallèles (Parallel Tales), a web of intersecting Parisian narratives in which family secrets and moral compromises gradually entangle strangers. With Isabelle Huppert at its centre, the film arrives dripping in prestige. Farhadi’s gift for constructing ethical labyrinths from which there is no clean exit has made him one of contemporary cinema’s essential voices, and his presence at the Croisette speaks to a notable resurgence of Iranian filmmaking on the international stage (last year’s Palme d’Or was won by Jafar Panahi), while brutality rages within the country’s borders. Further East, Japan’s auteur Hirokazu Kore-eda dives into our collective technological anxieties with Sheep in the Box, following the story of a couple that replaces their late son with a robot, in part inspired by the classic French children’s novel The Little Prince.

Belgian director Lukas Dhont, whose 2022 film Close announced him as one of Europe’s most significant young voices, follows up with Coward, a title that hints at a darker, more confrontational register than his previous melancholic work. Meanwhile, Léa Mysius, whose screenwriting has shaped some of French cinema’s most distinctive films, steps back into the director’s chair with Histoires de la nuit (The Birthday Party), following a family preparing for a 40th-birthday celebration that turns into a nightmare when darkness falls.

None of this is to say that Hollywood will be an industry written off in 2027. Instead, what this year’s edition of Cannes suggests is that audiences who are willing to read subtitles will find no shortage of enriching work.

Japan 
While there might be few children elsewhere in the Giardini, Japan’s pavilion boasts roughly 200 babies. The dolls are hanging from the ceiling, creeping around fire extinguishers and roaming the pavilion’s perimeters. There’s even one peering down from the roof of the building. Visitors are invited to pick up and hold the weighted dolls or to even “change their diapers” (revealing a hidden QR code that leads to a poem). “The dolls weigh 5.5kg,” says artist Ei Arakawa-Nash. “It’s much heavier than you might expect, so usually people instantly smile and their facial expression softens. Until the show opened, I couldn’t have anticipated that.” The co-created performance is undoubtedly a strange one but it’s surprising how many who take part appear comforted by carrying around a doll. The result is tender and unexpectedly moving.   

Great Britain 
On entering the British pavilion, a soundscape transports visitors to an idyllic summer’s day in the countryside. Equally transportive are the paintings by this year’s artist chosen by the British Council, Lubaina Himid. Bright colours dominate the bold works that sometimes stretch across multiple canvases and depict vocational scenes of architects, tailors and chefs at work. While the soundscape (“of one of those ‘lovely day days’” in the words of Himid) and cheerful hues suggest a sunny outlook, on closer inspection there is a more complicated message about migration and assimilation. “Visitors come to any showing space with their own experience in their pockets,” Himid tells Monocle. “Me and my team are presenting something that is, in a sense, an imagined Britain. The visitors and the people in the paintings are trying to work out how you make sense of finding yourself in a place that seems welcoming – bright and full of promise – but isn’t your home.”

Syria 
The benefit of not having a pavilion in the Giardini or Arsenale is that it can give artists the opportunity to build something new. Syria’s Biennale representative, Sara Shamma, has recreated the tower tombs from the ancient city of Palmyra in Venice’s Dorsoduro district. The tombs were built between the 1st and 3rd centuries and destroyed in 2015. Inside Shamma’s ode to them is a tight yet thoughtful exhibition that combines paintings with a soundscape and scent created by historic perfume makers in Damascus. “We are witnessing the establishment of this new Syria,” Shamma tells Monocle. “And Syrians themselves now can participate in building this country. The pavilion is not just about what’s been lost, it’s really about a new beginning and a hopeful future.” 

Latvia 
This underrated yet intriguing pavilion in the Arsenale is a treat for anyone with an interest in fashion history. Here sculptures by artist duo Mareunrol’s bend and distort the paraphernalia of getting dressed. Garment bags and rucksacks are shaped into new, unexpected forms, while shiny rails and hangers come alive as they twist and intertwine with delicate bird sculptures. The presentation is combined with archival footage from the Untamed Fashion Assembly (UFA), founded by artist Bruno Birmanis. Between 1990 and 1999, the UFA held festivals of fashion, art and performance in Latvia. The films and stills on display in Venice document the rise of young Baltic designers in a time of both great artistic creativity and tumultuous politics. While the exhibition is memorable, Latvia has also made its mark on the Biennale by leading the “Death in Venice” campaign, which encourages visitors to show their opposition to Russia’s inclusion in the event. 

Australia 
It has been a particularly long road from Sydney to Venice for Australia’s artist representative Khaled Sabsabi. After being awarded the commission, it was rescinded last year because of criticism over early works celebrating Hassan Nasrallah, the former Hezbollah chief who was assassinated by Israel in 2024. The commission was later reinstated. Now he has a rare presence in both the Giardini and Arsenale with two installations of large-scale digitised paintings that slowly move and change colour as you stand in front of them. Calming and contemplative, the exhibits create a soothing space away from the bustle of the Biennale. “Both works were made at the same time,” Sabsabi tells Monocle. “They come from the same well of creativity. They have a direct relationship with each other in terms of philosophies connected to Sufism. It is about better understanding oneself and dispersing that upon humanity, collectively, regardless of ethnicity, faith, culture or time, so that it’s an open invitation to all.”

The low mark was Chengdu, 2019. Monocle was in town to host a conference about making better cities. It was a great event, well, until the incident.

Over the years, I have learned to enjoy being on stage moderating talks, interviewing interesting people. And, with practice, I have discovered a few tricks to keep my nerves in check and panellists feeling that they have been heard. 

In Chengdu I remember feeling rather happy with myself as I prepared to wrap my final panel, just pausing to take a couple of questions from the audience before exiting. I scanned the room for raised hands and, several rows back, spotted someone waving. “Can we get the mic to the gentleman in the black coat,” I said, not realising the calamity that was about to hit.

The audience turned to see who the questioner was and, along with me, discovered as soon as they began to ask their question that this was not a man but a woman. A Chinese woman with a 1930s-style, slick, gentleman’s-style haircut. Think of a Chengdu Poirot. I mumbled something about forgetting my glasses but I was too far down the hole to hope for any escape.

Later, at the cocktail reception, I scanned the room to position myself as far away as possible from where the woman who had befuddled my gender radar was standing. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her start weaving through the crowd like a shark (a very nice lady shark). And there she was in front of me. “So, you think I look like a man?” she said. I began to splutter out an apology and she just started laughing.

“I dress like a man, so people make this mistake every day,” she said smiling. It turned out she worked for the government and we ended up having an interesting conversation, exchanged cards even.
After this you might be sceptical about taking any advice from me on public speaking, running a panel or being a moderator but even this incident has helped to shape my thoughts on the topic. Here are 15 things I have learned (and as you can see, not always the easy way).

1.
Before an event, especially in an auditorium you have never been to, insist on seeing the stage and get up there while the theatre or venue is empty. What will this feel like?

2.
Learn over time how you like to be mic-ed up. Madonna-style headsets and lapel mics will leave your hands free but my preference is for a hand-held mic. It’s comforting having a prop and you are more in charge.

3.
Seating. I am happy to do a fireside chat in a cosy armchair – it works for intimacy, the unfolding of personal stories. Bar stools are OK if you work in tech. Or are in a bar. I also like standing. The energy level rises. You can walk the stage, look at the audience and keep a whole room engaged.

4.
Notes. If you can go note naked, do. Plot out the arc of your conversation, your talk, in advance. Then memorise key words that will trigger a series of questions, thoughts. Sometimes I will have some notes in my pocket, an insurance policy, but you will soon learn to leave them untouched.

5.
Nerves are good, embrace them. The jitteriness you feel before you go on stage is just adrenaline. Think of it as the body’s way of making you sharp, alert.

6.
Oh and feel free to take a second. Get to the lectern, find your seat and then breathe. Wait until you feel in control. Then start.

7.
Yes, you will need a glass of water to hand. Dry mouth, pause, drink, restart.

8.
If your session is late in the day, don’t get too friendly with the wine waiter at lunch. Or the buffet bonanza. It will slow your thoughts down.

9.
The audience is not your enemy (well, not usually). People buy tickets to talks and give up their time to hear you speak because they are interested. People want to have a good time. Remember that.

10.
If you are interviewing someone or running a panel, make sure that you listen to the answers people give. It allows the conversation to have surprising turns. Don’t follow an inflexible script.

11.
Be funny. Be moved. Be engaged.

12.
Keep your questions crisp, sharp and to the point. “How did you feel?” “Was that a mistake?”
 
13.
Keep to time. You might think this is the best debate or discussion ever but people want coffee, desperately need a wee. If it’s billed at 30 minutes, stop on the dot.
 
14.
Time will fly. Use it wisely. And sometimes that includes leaving time for a conclusion. A good moderator can pull together the ideas generated by a big panel in a mental goodie bag for the audience to depart with.
 
15.
Take questions. But make sure you wear your glasses.

To read more from Andrew Tuck, click here. 

1.
The rooftop playground
Onebite Design Studio

This new rooftop space in Tin Shui Wai, a satellite town in northwestern Hong Kong, was designed by Onebite Design Studio as a response to urban density. The firm’s research into the New Territories precinct found that the open space per person in the north of Tin Shui Wai was less than 1 sq m, falling far short of the government’s 3.5 sq m benchmark.

The squeeze forced Alan Cheung, the managing director and co-founder of Onebite, to rethink a car park in T Town shopping mall. “We wanted this rooftop to be a space that people can claim as their own,” he says of The Wonderful Town of Play.

Inspired by the popular Hong Kong Wetland Park, Cheung’s team created a 32,000 sq ft playground with nine attractions. Climbing frames and rides are paired with artworks of wetland fauna and information panels on native species, to educate and entertain the residents.

While the treehouse-inspired slides and five-metre-high adventure tower are the playground’s most striking elements, it’s the vivid floor artwork that binds the project together. “In contrast to tall attractions, which activate high-energy group play, the on-ground graphics enable the young ones to carve out spaces when they feel tired,” says Vivian Tsoi, Onebite’s landscape designer.

“We also took the parents and grandparents into consideration because they are the ones who take the kids here,” she adds. In addition to the play equipment, there are several seats for adults to oversee their toddlers, offering them both respite and peace of mind.

A range of people were present when Monocle visited on a midweek morning, from grandparents to teenage couples on the merry-go-round and, of course, young children having fun, oblivious to the thought that went into the playground.
onebitedesign.com

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2.
The peerless pier
New Office Works

A disused pier on the Kowloon Peninsula has been turned into a social space for residents by Hong Kong architects New Office Works. Once a weathered slab of concrete used for offloading cargo, it is now packed with people, even on weekdays. When Monocle stops by Townplace Pier, there are children playing, people fishing and couples watching the sun dip below the horizon.

Five ribbons of wave-like patterns create the canopy, which is supported by slender columns, giving the pier the look of a fishing village. Despite its size, it has an airy quality. “The pavilion sits on an existing structure, so we wanted to put something delicate on top,” says New Office Works’ co-founder Evelyn Ting. Some parts are covered to shelter people from the sunlight and rain, while others are exposed to the elements, creating patterns of light and shadow.

At first glance, the pavilion seems simple, but there is poetry to the construction – a trait that has come to define the firm’s projects. The steel columns mirror the material that is used to make ships, while the satin aluminium panels act as reflective ceilings. The columns double as pipes to channel rainwater. Even the austere-looking tiles are composed of four irregular shapes that complement the undulating roof.

“We see architecture as a language with which you can communicate in either a straightforward or subjective manner,” says Paul Tse, New Office Works’ other co-founder. “Through the interplay of structural forms and materials, we hope to create spatial conditions that can be interpreted in different ways and, ultimately, move people.”
newofficeworks.com

Further reading: Hong Kong’s new 13km promenade is revitalising community life and wellbeing

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3.
The international outpost
Snøhetta

“It took a long process to find our new home,” says Snøhetta’s managing director for Asia, Richard Wood. “We wanted a space that was large enough for us all to be in one space while maintaining street access.”

Since putting down roots in 2018, the Oslo architecture practice’s Hong Kong outpost has continued to scale new heights, chalking up a number of high-profile projects including the forthcoming Shanghai Grand Opera House and the Shibuya Upper West Project in Tokyo. To reflect this growth, Snøhetta’s Hong Kong studio recently moved into a larger office in Sai Ying Pun.

The L-shaped space features a large communal table for meals and meetings. To remove any obstacles to team building, everyone is assigned a new seat every year, cultivating a sense of community.

Flexibility matters too. Retractable partitions accommodate changing needs, from team huddles to exhibitions. “We don’t just show clients the final project,” says Wood. “We bring them into our office to create.”

Another defining office feature is its street-level entrance. By embracing the landscape, the hum of Hong Kong acts as a reminder of the team’s civic responsibility as architects. “We loosen up when we’re connected to the city. Buildings are meant to be used by people, which is why our office invites the neighbourhood in.”
snohetta.com

When it comes to handwriting, I’m ashamed to say my eight-year-old son has a better script than I do. Growing up in the late 1980s, my family were the kind of early technological adopters who would proudly pack me off to school with my word-processed homework even as my classmates wrote out every assignment by hand. 
 
As a result, my handwriting got stuck around the age of six and to this day resembles the scrawling of a child. My actual child, however, is educated in the French lycée system, where students start learning cursive in école maternelle (preschool). Now his beautifully looping vowels and joined-up consonants dance across the page, putting my written words to shame. 

It’s a regular feat of family fun to pore over my shopping lists, as my children take turns to guess the items that I have written down while howling with laughter. My ritual humiliation, however, is nothing compared to the embarrassment of some Americans who reportedly lack the penmanship skills to sign even the most basic financial documentation. 
 
“They can’t sign their mortgage,” Toby Overdorf, a Republican legislator in Florida’s House of Representatives, recently told fellow lawmakers in the Sunshine State. “They can’t sign a bank cheque and I was astonished by this.” 
 
Even worse, many American children apparently can’t read the US Declaration of Independence in its original 18th-century script, even as it takes a central role in classrooms this year as the nation celebrates its semiquincentennial.  
 
So last month, Florida governor Ron DeSantis signed a bill mandating that public schools teach cursive up to the fifth grade, part of a surprising resurrection across the US for a skill that many countries (the French not withstanding) declared moribund many years ago. Pennsylvania also mandated cursive writing in April, joining around half of US states that have revived the most traditional style of joined-up handwriting.
 
As well as allowing US kids to peruse the nation’s founding documents, proponents say that learning cursive helps to develop cognitive ability, hand-eye co-ordination, creativity and fine motor skills, as well as making it easier to identify potential learning disabilities. 
 
But this is a deeply partisan America and nothing is just about the best interests of the child: it is also inevitably about the politics. Reviving cursive has become a conservative cause, embraced as part of a return to the traditional values of the past and a rosy nostalgia for the pre-woke days of education. One of cursive’s most ardent supporters is former Oklahoma schools chief and now anti-union activist Ryan Walters, who achieved brief notoriety in 2024 when he tried to compel every Oklahoma classroom to have a copy of the bible that almost exclusively matched one endorsed by Donald Trump. 
 
But if it’s possible to put politics to one side, I’m all in favour of this revival of the classical writing style. Study after study shows us that learning in the analogue world is much more effective than on a screen. When we read on paper, our eyes dart across the pages between sentences and paragraphs, enhancing our comprehension and retention.
 
We also need to think about what skills children need going into a future jobs market dominated by AI. Children pick up technology quickly and intuitively: it’s literally designed that way, to be as easy to use and as addictive as possible. They don’t need to be taught how to use an iPad. With AI able to automate an increasing amount of our technological tasks, it makes sense to teach children a skill that helps them to slow down and think about what they want to say and how they want to say it. 
 
Then there is the connection to the people in our lives. Every time I sit down to write a thank you note, a birthday card or a condolence message, I wince at my messy writing. I long for those loops and curls that would show my respect and care for the recipient. 
 
So while it’s probably too late for me, I’m delighted that my offspring have acquired this skill – not least so I can start delegating those thank you notes and shopping lists to them.

Argentina’s wild-haired libertarian president, Javier Milei, made political hay for years by skewering his opponents and the opposition for their alleged illicit enrichment (writes Bryan Harris). Anti-corruption formed a central part of his political identity, and at every turn he has derided the establishment as “la casta” – a ruling caste of venal politicians.

Now his rhetoric might come back to haunt him. A series of mounting graft scandals involving top officials in his government now threatens to douse this political firebrand and his chances of re-election next year.

At the centre of the latest scandal is his cabinet chief, Manuel Adorni, who endured a marathon interrogation in Congress this week over a lavish lifestyle inconsistent with his public salary of around $2,500 (€2,123) per month. Adorni and his family, who deny all wrongdoing, have been caught by local media travelling by private jet to Punta del Este, a beach resort in Uruguay. They have also made a series of high-end real-estate purchases. And then there are the questions about the alleged $245,000 (€208,000) cash payment for renovations of a house purchased for less than half that price.

Instead of addressing these home truths, Milei has stood by Adorni. But the cabinet chief is not the only one facing tough questions. The head of Argentina’s tax-collection authority is the subject of a formal indictment over alleged omissions of multimillion-dollar foreign properties from his asset declarations, while a top official at the economy ministry was fired after it emerged that he had not declared his seven apartments in Florida.

The scandals are clearly irking Argentines, who voted for Milei in 2023 on the back of pledges to overhaul the political system. Now corruption ranks as a major public issue again, with polls showing it to be a major concern for 50.3 per cent of Argentines. Milei, meanwhile, appears to be foundering with an approval rating of 35.5 per cent. Despite a landslide victory in last year’s midterms, Milei is now at the weakest point of his term so far. What until recently looked like a safe re-election for Milei next year is now increasingly in doubt.

But corruption is not the only issue weighing on the minds of voters. Argentines appear to be tiring of the country’s lethargic economy. For years, Milei was given the benefit of the doubt as he implemented a programme of reforms and austerity, which succeeded in taming triple-digit inflation and bringing a semblance of stability to one of the world’s most fragile economies. 

Now discontent is rising as business activity slumps in manufacturing, retail and other major industries. Unemployment rose to 7.5 per cent in the last quarter of 2025, the highest level in five years. Real wages have fallen, while annual inflation remains stubborn at about 30 per cent.

Milei will continue to deal with challenges using his characteristic bravado. In a show of support for his cabinet chief, he appeared at Congress during Adorni’s hearing, flashing smiles and giving a big thumbs-up. When questioned by journalists, Milei and those in his government accused the press of being corrupt. Perhaps people in glass houses – whether in Buenos Aires or Washington – shouldn’t throw stones.