Living in Japan can sometimes feel like inhabiting a very safe, impossibly polite bubble, detached from the strife, intolerance and ugly rhetoric that seem to be so prevalent in many parts of the world. Of course, other places are not always so bad and Japan is not perfect but, as far as large-scale cities go, Tokyo has got urban living down to a fine art. Primary school children walk to school unaccompanied as a matter of course and the streets are safe, even at night. Good service is expected and received in every situation. In fact, the level of civility is so universal, and everyone so attuned to it, that any deviation from acceptable standards – a mildly sullen waiter or inattentive shop staff – causes disproportionate outrage.

The overwhelming sense is that people go out of their way not to bother others. Disturbing fellow subway passengers with a booming conversation just wouldn’t be on and you can almost feel the collective horror should someone start eating a pungent burger or put their shoes on a seat. If it sounds exhausting, it really isn’t. The awareness of not imposing one’s presence on others is absorbed from childhood and internalised to the point where it becomes instinctive. There’s an unspoken agreement among Tokyo’s citizens that whatever the situation – a crowded train, a busy bus or an airport security queue – it will all be much easier if everyone thinks of others and not just themselves.

The “manners” posters that proliferate on the Tokyo subway, reminding passengers not to sit selfishly or shake their wet umbrellas in the direction of others, show just how different Tokyo is from every other megalopolis. Most major cities are grappling with serious crime and the threat of terrorism. Not that Japan is a stranger to external danger: North Korea has been lobbing missiles in Japan’s direction with varying degrees of success and Donald Trump has blown hot and cold on a relationship that was once a cornerstone of regional security. The laissez-faire attitude to smoking also needs more attention from officials, particularly with the 2020 Olympics fast approaching.

Tokyo’s charm is sometimes hard to pin down. It’s about a combination of tight neighbourhoods, superlative food, trains that leave when they’re supposed to and a general ease of moving around what should be an unbearably crowded city. Maybe it’s also the density of cultural offerings and the pockets of greenery. Or the fact that people cling doggedly to the rhythms of the natural world regardless of their urban surroundings, eating ginkgo nuts in the autumn and picnicking under cherry trees in spring. While we’d welcome other challengers, we’re still in thrall to Tokyo’s unique blend of small-town warmth and big-city excitement.

Four things make Tokyo the attractive city it is: tradition, innovation, diversity and the people. The feudal city of Edo became Tokyo 150 years ago but many traces of Edo remain: the city’s layout, Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples and shops.

The warm-hearted spirit of the Edokko (people from Edo) lingers too. This legacy is what visitors know as the “kindness” of Tokyo’s people, the ease of getting around and the pleasure of shopping. For the Japanese, a shop is not just a commercial entity: it is part of the community. After the recent earthquakes, shops quickly reopened to provide a crucial lifeline. While it meant people could buy clothes, the support was not just about the availability of goods but the human interaction between survivors and shopkeepers.

Human interaction is the beauty of shopping here. One neighbourhood in Setagaya, for example, has small shops rather than big supermarkets. The owner of one vegetable shop phones my wife when he has fresh ingredients he knows she’ll like.

Tokyo is just one big village. Consider lively Shimokitazawa or tiny Shoin Jinja, dotted with restaurants and secondhand bookshops. The capital is a place of remarkable diversity.

When it comes to quality-of-life lists, Vienna is a veteran, consistently scoring well. It’s easy to see why: the Austrian capital’s inner city is walkable, human-scaled and packed with wedding-cake baroque architecture. Green space comprises about 50 per cent of the urban area. The mighty Danube with its canals and tributaries is a calming presence. There’s home-grown food and wine, a long tradition of craftsmanship that, miraculously, hasn’t disappeared in a sea of mass production and tonnes of generously funded high-culture.

These are the obvious things that make it nice to live here. But Vienna has plenty of less-visible advantages as well. The social-democratic city government, for one, which has been in place since the Second World War and is responsible for fair housing prices, low public-transport costs, clever urban planning and updated infrastructure. Consistency clearly counts: mayor Michael Häupl has been in his post for nearly 24 years.

Vienna is also smart. Close to 100,000 students attend Vienna University; in everyday conversation intellectual references spiced with dark humour are practically mandatory (along with some neurotic tics that make clear Sigmund Freud could only have grown up here). Even the most basic stuff of life is exceptional: Vienna’s tap water, for example, is crystal clear, coming through two pipelines from mountain springs 330km away and generating hydroelectric power along the way.

But the most invisible quality-of-life signifier of all might be the way that the Viennese use time. While the rest of the world races around with coffees to go, the Viennese linger in 19th-century coffeehouses over their Kaffee Mélange. Business meetings that would take 45 minutes elsewhere will likely run up to three hours but your Austrian contacts will never forget your name. The city’s innovators embody a mix of idleness and productivity that seems paradoxical but isn’t. Whether in the burgeoning start-up scene, diplomacy or the arts, the Viennese innately know that a leisurely meal can lead to creative breakthroughs, just like it did for composer Gustav Mahler and painter Gustav Klimt a century ago.

Speaking of time, the Viennese are bringing back a temporal icon that graced the city’s streets in 1907: the Normalzeit (normal time) clock, shaped like a cube and showing hours and minutes on a numberless clockface. In 1910 the Austro-Hungarian monarchy’s many time zones were standardised to Central European Time. The clocks disappeared with the advent of smartphones but lately the timeless clocks have been reintroduced to Vienna’s streets. They’re a symbol of an abstract luxury that the Viennese refuse to relinquish – time to work properly, to think, to spend with friends and family and enjoy the other things that make the city great to live in. Without time, what good is the rest?

Until just a few years ago, Berlin’s quality of life was measured mostly by its cost of living. Thanks to an overabundance of residential buildings, rents were laughably cheap, attracting creative types from all over the world seeking freedom from financial pressures. The boon has since ended and the hype has passed but the city has maintained its position in our rankings. Why?

Maybe the most important factor is that there isn’t one Berlin. Each district has such a distinct flavour that travelling from leafy Zehlendorf to glossy Mitte and on to rugged Neukölln feels like visiting completely different cities. (Thanks to good public transport and bike and car-sharing options, this is easy.) The variety has led to intense loyalties around neighbourhoods and, for a city of 3.5 million people, it can feel surprisingly village-like.

Berlin is also one of Europe’s most multicultural cities: more than half of its residents aren’t native to the city. Not only is English spoken nearly everywhere but in many cafés in Mitte, Kreuzberg and Neukölln it is the official language, as the requirement for staff to know German is increasingly redundant. The reason may be that their bosses don’t speak it either: despite Germany’s reputation for bureaucracy, opening a business in Berlin usually requires just one visit to a public office and paperwork is available in many languages.

Berlin’s defining feature used to be the presence of world history on every corner; today the ubiquity of great restaurants seems like a more important characteristic. From a city that used to dance, Berlin has become a city that eats. Food now attracts more creative energy than the many technology start-ups that dominated Berlin a few years ago.

Lacking the legacy industries of other German urban centres, Berlin has done much to support entrepreneurialism and subsidise culture. The result is that it’s the world’s only city with three opera houses, many of Germany’s most cutting-edge theatres and a museum that houses everything from ancient artifacts to quirky industrial objects.

Still, Berlin is at its best when the government keeps its distance. A legacy of the post-reunification anarchy is the strong sense of ownership residents have over their city. Most parks don’t close at night, the curfew for bars still seems to depend on what they negotiate with their neighbours and residents regularly turn the spaces around trees in the street into miniature gardens.

This understanding that public space truly belongs to everybody has given Berlin a strong sense of freedom. And it survives in an age when many other cities are experiencing security clampdowns. The British embassy continues to be more heavily guarded than Angela Merkel’s private residence, which is recognisable only by two police officers strolling the vicinity.

Munich manages to combine three seeming opposites. First, it feels at once relaxed and dynamic. This stems not only from a mix between Italian dolce vita and Bavarian Effizienz but is also thanks to its 18 universities, including two of the country’s best, that attract 120,000 students – more than any other German city except Berlin.

Plus, Munich is cosmopolitan yet traditional. In fact it is often newly arrived internationals, attracted by jobs at Munich’s industrial giants, who most proudly sport their Lederhosen and Dirndl – not only for Oktorberfest but also for revelries such as Nockherberg Starkbierfest and Kocherlball.

Finally, Munich is both a cultural centre and has plenty of green space. Take your surfboard, kayak or dinghy to the river Isar, gaze at the sheep roaming in English Garden or cycle through Perlacher Forst and the city will suddenly feel like it’s 1,000 miles away.

Melbourne is growing faster than at any other time in its history and is on track to become the largest metropolis in Australia by 2050. Such a surge in population has presented officials with a challenge: how to accommodate new residents while protecting Melbourne’s laidback lifestyle. So far they’ve handled the task expertly: the city’s cultural institutions remain world class, its parks are pristine and the smell of freshly poured flat whites continues to permeate the CBD.

Economically Melbourne is also in good shape. Cheap office rent, reliable infrastructure and creative talent has made the city a magnet for young entrepreneurs. There is still room for improvement though. Housing affordability and crime are ongoing concerns, and congestion has also reached a critical point. Thankfully, work has begun on an au$11bn (€7.3bn) underground rail tunnel that should improve accessibility.

Can a city be described as liveable if it is too expensive to live in? In the past 12 months the average cost of renting a one-bedroom flat in a city in the top 25 has risen by 3.5 per cent, from €898 to €929. In several of our top 25, the average rent tops €1,000. In no city is the figure falling.

If cities are to thrive they need a constant flow of young people, both from elsewhere in the country and abroad. That flow will be reduced if young people are priced out. Cities also need affordable housing for those who keep it ticking it over: restaurant staff, police officers and nurses. In too many of our top 25 cities these people are at best being pushed to cheaper peripheries, at worst looking for cheaper towns.

There is, at least, recognition in most major cities that the cost of housing is a problem – but ideas on how to fix it are thin on the ground. Limited government programmes to increase the amount of affordable housing merely dabble around the edges. Radical solutions are necessary or our greatest cities will start to go stale. 

Copenhagen is a perennial favourite in our top 10 – it has taken the top spot a record three times – and the Danish capital is riding high again this year. What’s its secret? A great deal of the credit must go to Rådhuset (city hall), which famously prioritises bicycles over cars and is implementing a thorough upgrade of public transport.

This is not without its side-effects: the metro expansion continues to make a building site out of large chunks of the centre while on Amager, around the old naval docks of Refshaleøen and in the northern and southern harbour areas, development continues apace. These days cranes outnumber spires on the city’s skyline but you can’t make an omelette… More happily, travel restrictions between the Danish capital and Sweden’s Malmö have finally been lifted following the exigencies of the refugee crisis. A sense of equilibrium seems to have been restored.

Bright and breezy Sydney is gaining more than 80,000 residents a year and the rapid growth looks set to continue. The features that have long drawn newcomers – cultural vibrancy, a strong economy, stunning beaches and green space – are as compelling as ever. What’s more, there’s a newfound sense of connectedness with the Asia-Pacific region, borne out by new air-travel routes to China and increasing dialogue between the Beijing and Sydney arts communities. Australian prime minister Malcolm Turnbull’s announcement in May that the federal government would fund a second airport for the city augurs well for the future.

But population growth is beginning to put a strain on infrastructure and there is concern that road and public-transport projects have not been properly thought through. Residents old and new are hoping that the sun will continue to shine on the Harbour City.

If you’ve only ever been to Zürich in the winter you might look askance at our choice – Switzerland’s largest city can be difficult to warm to in the chillier months. Yet few places undergo the dramatic transformation that Zürich does from May: swimmers descend on the Bade that line the Limmat River and Lake Zürich; tables and chairs spill out of cafés onto the wide pavements; and parks and gardens become chock-full of sunbathers.

Aside from the great outdoors, Zürich also has its proactive city hall going for it. The municipal government, which has been dominated by the left for a generation, continues to ensure that the trams operate smoothly, cycling is encouraged and sustainability remains a priority.

However, in spite of a private-sector house-building boom and a number of innovative co-operatively funded developments that have popped up, housing could be much more affordable.

Not only is Hamburg Germany’s media capital (Gruner + Jahr, Die Zeit, public television and radio broadcaster ndr and the Spiegel-Verlag are all based here), it’s also home to one of the world’s most important sea ports. The city has an undeniably high quality of life and it’s not resting on its laurels: its HafenCity project – Europe’s largest inner-city development – is transforming the area along the Elbe and creating more office, residential, retail and cultural spaces.

The new offices will surely fill up swiftly, seeing as the city has the second highest start-up rate in Germany; its economic strength and flourishing creative industry make it a good base for entrepreneurs. What’s more, according to the Happiness Atlas, the nation’s most content people live here: it can’t be the weather so perhaps it’s the city’s prosperity and proximity to the wide beaches of the North Sea.

What happens when you give residents an active role in shaping their city? This seems to be the question driving Madrid city hall, which is delegating power to neighbourhood groups and inspired residents who are itching to make their barrios better. Some €100m has been assigned to a “participative budget” programme, allowing people to propose, vote on and then watch their projects become a reality.

Disused land has been converted into parks, narrow pavements widened and a decision to release the dams on the Manzanares River has seen the waterway flourish with aquatic and plant life in a matter of months. More civic engagement is cultivating a sense of empowerment and has coincided with a sharp drop in unemployment. As a result, Madrileños are feeling rather good about themselves: a recent survey revealed that 81.6 per cent are satisfied or very satisfied with their own suburb.

Stockholm has had a challenging year with a terrorist attack and tensions in certain predomin-antly immigrant suburbs. But on the other hand, residents have responded to the attack with grace and solidarity, covering police cars with flowers and showing what makes this city so lovable and liveable: tolerance, kindness and mutual trust in one another.

Even though Stockholm is a major city, it has a certain small-town feel. Getting from A to B rarely takes very long, cycling and public transport work well and you can swim and fish in the centre of town The vast majority of people feel safe where they live and enjoy the benefits of the Nordic model: universal childcare, free education and nearly free healthcare. But that’s not to say that there aren’t problems. Some of the biggest ones have to do with housing: the lack of it and the fact that the city is severely segregated.

Kyoto’s historic buildings and national treasures have long been a source of pride for its citizens. But the city is now straddling two realities: its population is declining as tourist numbers surge. Under a three-term mayor, Daisaku Kadokawa, city hall has removed neon signs and is burying unsightly overhead utility lines, while also launching a programme for an elite corps of multilingual tour guides who know Kyoto inside-out.

City officials are considering reviving the canals that were built more than a century ago to carry water from Lake Biwa. New bars and shops are now popping up in Kyoto’s traditional machiya townhouses, while young chefs are re-establishing the city’s connection to the region’s farms. Neglected landmarks are also being reborn, with the 1960s Kyoto Tower having just reopened its retail and restaurant floors after its first major overhaul in decades.

In Helsinki you’ll find all the things you’d expect from a modern Nordic capital: free healthcare and education, great public transport, functioning city services and ample nature all around. In recent years Helsinki has become more entrepreneurial and edgy and there is a tangible creative energy in the city. The start-up scene is vibrant due to the ease with which entrepreneurs can set up companies get a lot of help from the state.

There are new restaurants, bars and cafés opening all the time in the city. Once considered rather quiet and reserved, the Finns are now embracing communal living. They open their kitchens to visitors during the famous Restaurant Day and bathe together in the city’s new public saunas.

The city is fixing its housing problem too. It has commissioned leading architects to build homes for more than 60,000 people in former industrial areas.

Fukuoka is proud of its achievements and – unusually for Japan – isn’t afraid to shout about them: the Japanese city with the fastest-growing population, it has the most beaches with good quality water within 30km, the highest number of protected trees and a vast new fresh-produce market that shifted more than 300,000 tonnes of fruit and vegetables last year. Helped by its location in the centre of East Asia and a substantial number of students, Fukuoka is the start-up centre of Japan. The city works hard to attract young entrepreneurs, offering financial incentives and practical assistance to fledgling businesses. Ranked as the top city for sport in Japan, the average commute is only 30 minutes.

Perhaps the enduring image of Fukuoka in the past year was the spectacular 30m-wide sinkhole that suddenly appeared on a busy street in November; it was filled and repaired in under a week.

In the wake of Istanbul’s first terrorist attack of 2016, Turks were determined not to be cowed from the bars, bazaars and meyhanes. Terror couldn’t scare them from the pursuit of a good time. But then came a second bomb, then a third and a fourth – and the targets were high streets, transport links and sites of iconic significance.

When the new year began with another terror attack, this time on a nightclub overlooking the Bosphorus, the aftermath saw those bar-filled streets empty. Yet it didn’t take long for Istanbulus to return. So how much terror can one city take before it reshapes its way of life in more permanent ways?

As Beirut knows all too well, cities under constant threat often party harder, especially when they face an uncertain future. But there’s a limit to such abandon: it’s a city running on adrenaline, at risk of burning out, especially when it’s only young people out raising a glass in defiance. The lesson Istanbul offers is that cities must take time to grieve, if only to stave off the idea that the threat of terror is all too normal.

Winds of change are blowing in Hong Kong with the appointment of a new chief executive to lead the city for the next five years. It is too early to call time on recent political problems but both sides of the divide seem willing to give Carrie Lam a chance as she looks to tackle major issues, from affordable housing and economic diversification to universal suffrage.

The city’s first female leader made enhancing liveability a pillar of her election manifesto and has taken over at an opportune time. The economy is picking up steam, crime is at record lows and air pollution is showing signs of improvement following a shift to cleaner shipping fuel and an initiative to take diesel cars off the roads.

It famously rained on the night in 1997 when Hong Kong returned to China. Twenty years later, organisers will hope for clear skies as an augur for a brighter end to the decade.

A temperate climate, picturesque historic centre and proximity to world-class beaches give Lisbon a head start in the quality-of-life stakes: it is a very pleasant place to live. In terms of size it’s just about right too: it’s not so small that it feels provincial yet not so large that meeting friends on the other side of town becomes a logistical mission. Crime rates are low and to date there’s been no terrorist threat.

An influx of young creatives and entrepreneurs, combined with the city’s welcoming population, creates a multicultural, cosmopolitan feel and gives Lisbon the air of an island of tolerance in an increasingly xenophobic world.

The employment situation is improving and the economy is on the up, while Portuguese victories on the world stage – including last month’s Eurovision Song Contest and football’s 2016 European Championships – have lifted confidence, adding to the vim of the city.

The people of Barcelona have a penchant for paradox; proclaiming theirs the best city in the world while bemoaning the influx of visitors in the very next breath. A quarter of a century of such spirited self-promotion has been a mixed blessing; nine million tourists emptied their wallets in the city last year but the spurt in short-term tourist apartments is driving up property prices – alongside rent and noise complaints.

Activist turned mayor Ada Colau has had two years to reclaim the city for residents, putting platforms such as Airbnb in the firing line by implementing strict new licensing regulations. The recent formation of a grassroots “union of home-renters” also heralds a new battlefront in this protracted war. However, Barcelona must be careful: the perception of hostility to outsiders is a bad look for any city, especially one with such long-held global aspirations.

If you are looking for easy access to well-maintained outdoor spaces Vancouver has it in droves, with its pretty, verdant parks and rugged stretches of beach set against the backdrop of nearby mountains. But when it comes to easy access to affordable housing, the city has fallen short: house prices here are the highest in Canada. That and a lack of diverse career options for young people have led to a brain drain that the city needs to properly get to grips with.

City officials are trying: a new tax on foreign property investors has been introduced – with mixed results – and there is a concerted campaign under way to persuade Asian businesses to set up their North American headquarters here. These fixes might take time to bring about real change in the city but Vancouver has plenty to offer in the meantime, from its exciting culinary options to well-run transport links.

A city by a river is always special – especially one that has it all: global businesses, good infrastructure, high-profile universities, leafy parks and a sprinkling of culture. One of Düsseldorf’s best assets is its airport, which connects to nearly 200 destinations around the world and makes international trade shows particularly viable. Another is the Rhine River promenade, which is ideal for cyclists and leads to the picturesque MedienHafen, where the city’s TV Tower shoots skyward and creative businesses thrive.

The new Kö-Bogen, designed by Daniel Libeskind, has enriched the city’s retail and leisure offerings, while the Old Town’s side streets make up the “longest bar in the world”. Even though property prices here are on the rise, the city remains affordable and the ease of escaping to Köln or Bonn – or even the Netherlands and Belgium – within a couple of hours makes it even more desirable.

Speaking a second language is no guarantee of a better life – but there is a correlation between a high quality of life and a high proficiency in English. English is an official language in seven of our top 25, while a further 14 are among the top 25 in the annual English Proficiency Index (the Netherlands tops the list). Just four cities in our top 25 score poorly.

Bilingual cities, especially those with English as a second language, are using it to their advantage. After Donald Trump’s victory and the UK’s decision to leave the EU, said countries are no longer natural destinations for those working abroad. So European cities have been trying to lure business from the UK: Berlin wants start-ups; Frankfurt and Paris are competing for its finance companies; and cities from Lisbon to Leipzig are being considered by 18-year-olds looking for a gap year. Meanwhile, people put off by the US’s immigration rules will eye Vancouver or Toronto. Cities speaking English will be in pole position for attracting wealth – generating global interest.

Amsterdam may have a reputation as a party town for weekend trips but the city of canals is also a great place for living, full stop. From a booming gastronomic scene to an explosion of independent shops, especially in the east and west, the city is on a high. Excellent cycling infrastructure makes commuting not just a breeze but genuinely pleasant, particularly with views of the city’s UN World Heritage-status waterways.

Amsterdam’s small size and the proximity of international hub Schipol Airport minimises travelling time. Yet the city still manages to feel spacious, with plenty of parks and squares for an impromptu picnic or terrace borrel drinking session the moment the sun appears – chances the Dutch seize with both hands. Friendly people with an entrepreneurial, can-do attitude and a truly international outlook combine to make this an easy place in which to settle.

Even the subtlest shifts in how we live, work, play and fall in love can confound anyone who is out to rank cities for quality of life. Why? Because these shifts have unintended consequences.

Take the push for increased urban density: a dry term for asking people to live in smaller apartments, taller buildings and with a lot of space-saving devices. Yes, great to have a home in a booming city but if you shrink people’s living spaces then they will place ever greater value on access to green space, river walks and roof-top hangouts. Not since Victorian times have parks been seen as so vital to a city’s mental and physical welfare. So, yes, we make sure that we count the trees, aware that each patch of green can restore a frazzled mind at the end of a long day.

It’s the same with the move at some companies to encourage more days working from home, which tends to make people go stir crazy and crave better company than their cat. Now many of our readers want cities where there are plenty of “third spaces” where you can park yourself and use someone else’s wi-fi or, better still, vibrant co-working clubs. Such spots were never a consideration in our first survey a decade ago.

Even how we date, marry and settle down shifts how we perceive urban quality of life. Because if you are waiting a decade longer than your parents to have children, then that’s also a decade more when you want to be out in the evenings and at weekends enjoying yourself. That’s why there’s a boom in all the things that single thirty-somethings love: farmers’ markets, pop-up restaurants and gyms. These are things that a generation ago would have been irrelevant to quality of life for most people in their thirties; now they are often seen as vital.

Even granting civil rights re-engineers our view of what makes a great city. If you are treated the same as everyone else then there’s no need to go to a gay bar for a drink. That’s why there are plenty of gay men and women who would rate a city on good schools for their kids more than the number of premises flying a rainbow flag.

In our discussions at Midori House when ranking our top 25 cities, we have tried to acknowledge these changes to keep the survey sharp. But, as noted in the introduction to this year’s survey, politics can create more seismic shifts in our views – and both Brexit and the US election have left many people reflecting on the more emotional elements of quality of life in cities. Do I feel comfortable here? Am I welcome? Many now look at rankings such as ours with a renewed urgency. Quality of life may rest on some bedrock notions but it’s also as changeable as us – and our politicians.

Singapore does the basics of a liveable city well: an affordable housing policy that shelters more than 80 per cent of its residents, an efficient business environment making it easy to build new and exciting ventures, low crime rates, well-planned health coverage for citizens and an enviable transport network. So now the city-state is working on the cherries on top.

While retail lacks variety, there’s plenty to do outside the malls. The city’s cultural landscape has matured adding smaller independent-music and art events to fill up the evenings. Greenery is integral to the built landscape: roads, public spaces and even skyscrapers shrouded in foliage encourage an active outdoor lifestyle, especially within the expansive park network. Then when the average 28c days get too much, a café or bar is never far away thanks to a buzzing drinking and dining scene.

It’s impossible not to discuss houses when talking about Auckland: the city has a housing shortage and over-inflated prices. It’s a situation fuelled by the appeal of living in the City of Sails. About 56,000 people a year move to this cultural melting pot with its temperate climate, pretty beaches, thriving arts and food sectors, and business opportunities. Now the restaurants, parks and art along the redeveloped waterfront have given Auckland the physical heart it once lacked.

However, the housing crisis must be addressed properly for the positives to outweigh the negatives. Last July the Auckland Unitary Plan was revised to allow for higher-density housing. In May the government announced that 34,000 homes will be built on Crown land over the next decade. Watch this space.

For years Brisbane pitched itself as quintessentially Australian, with an image that hinged largely on warm weather and a proximity to nature. Over the past decade, however, a lot has changed; mayor Graham Quirk and Queensland’s state government have successfully realigned it as a globally minded metropolis.

Part of their strategy has been upgrading the city’s infrastructure – a au$1.4bn (€930m) runway will double Brisbane Airport’s flight capacity – and encouraging a slew of cultural events, such as the Asia Pacific Screen Awards. Quirk’s council has also played an important role in transforming Fortitude Valley, a suburb once renowned for its red-light district, into a hotbed of cafés and shops. There’s still more to be done to complete Brisbane’s reinvention though, particularly in the areas of homelessness and public transport.

Smaller, calmer and less money-obsessed than rivals Seattle and San Francisco, this west-coast outpost has long thrived in our rankings on carefree charm alone. Indeed Portland boasts nature, excellent food, lively neighbourhoods and legions of artisan businesses. However, since the election of Donald Trump, it has shown a steelier side. Portland vowed to remain a “sanctuary city” for immigrants and protests against the president’s inauguration and travel ban were well attended. The liberal metropolitan area orchestrates politics in Oregon, a rural state at odds with the new administration on climate change and other issues.

Through it all the city’s cultural and economic strengths keep winning converts – about 80 new arrivals a day, the US Census estimates. New builds define the skyline and given Portland’s role in US life right now, one could see each crane as a beacon of hope.

Sandwiched between fjord and forest, few capitals can compete with Oslo’s outdoor offerings – easily enjoyed by a workforce protected by a state-sanctioned 37.5-hour working week. A new green city council has been busy making the centre more pedal friendly, while exciting restaurants keep popping up to feed a growing appetite for organic produce.

After economic uncertainty caused by falling oil revenues, things are picking up and unemployment in Oslo has fallen to about 3 per cent. It’s still one of the world’s most expensive cities but wages are generous and international workers are eased into the labour market by the Service Centre for Foreign Workers.

Innovative architecture is defining new neighbourhoods being built to accommodate the fact that Oslo remains one of Europe’s fastest- growing capitals.