When do you no longer count (even exist) as a paid-up member of civil society? Is it when you move beyond city limits and check out from the buzz of the metropolis? Are you a non-citizen if your lifestyle demands that you require a car for your daily needs? Or is it when you hit your late seventies, your left knee goes and you’re suddenly less nimble? I’ve been considering this core question over the past few months as Zürich pushes ahead with more car-free pedestrian zones in districts that blend residential and commercial buildings, young families and lone pensioners, new cafés and old retail establishments. 

The idea of districts free from motorised four-wheel vehicles is hardly new but the notion that whole districts should see a ban on cars – particularly those that have emerged over the past century – requires a rethink. With the nearest parking a kilometre away, how do you get semi-mobile grandpa, who lives in the countryside, over to see the grandkids? And how are you supposed to get the ceramic-lamp bases to the shade-maker who relies on kerbside convenience? Zürich and many other cities are currently trying to railroad such concepts under the assumption that everyone is fit, 30 and working in the public sector rather than running a small business. Neighbourhoods need to be accessible to all, cars are quite useful and cargo bikes are not the answer for all forms of modern mobility.

In our July/August issue, dedicated to all topics related to quality of life (including our revised city rankings), Zürich still manages to win the overall prize for mobility (thanks to its right-sized airport, rail connections and overall investment in infrastructure). But it also runs the risk of becoming an urban oasis that’s restricted to two-wheelers and less accessible to those who might need to go very short distances on foot and then require four wheels for varied hops around town and further afield.

The city is currently being challenged on a few fronts by those who question the need for bike lanes that work well when the sun is bright and warm but are empty in chillier months. A city needs to be adaptable to the needs of citizens who are happy to pedal in the summertime but then require taxis or private vehicles when the winds are raging and the rain horizontal.

As you tuck into our summer double issue, we’re already at work on our September edition – one that is fully focused on mobility and making your way around the block, cross-country and all over the world.

To read more about the winning cities in our annual Quality of Life Survey, which appears in our bumper July/August issue, click here. Or better yet, subscribe so that you’re never out of the loop. 

How do you spend your evenings when the city is baking, the air is still and it’s logistically impossible to head to the mountains or down to the coast? Do you find a shady terrace, crack open a chilled Super Bock and hope that the temperature dips below 25C before midnight? Do you crank up the AC, hydrate and stretch out on the sofa with the remote control in hand? Or do you opt for a more natural approach to cooling and open up your windows in the hope of a cool, fragrant cross breeze? 

By the time I departed our Zürich office on Friday the temperature was 34C, the city was hopping with pedestrians and cyclists pouring into town, and even though public schools don’t break for another month it felt like the first official summer eve. Before leaving home I had lowered the awnings and closed most of the apartment windows, save for two left slightly ajar to allow for some airflow. On return the abode was remarkably cool (the building is a brutalist concrete affair from the late 1960s) and within a few minutes the stage had been set for a perfect Friday evening: a bottle of Oeil de Perdrix was opened and poured, curry cashews from Mercès in Barcelona in the bowl, NRJ Maroc was pumping out French beats from the radio and full prep for a barbecue was on the go in the kitchen. By the time dinner hit the table at 21.15, the mercury had dropped, a breeze had picked up and boats on the lake beyond were heading back to their docks. Over a chilled red from a lakeside vineyard we reviewed the past week (Ottawa, Toronto, Zürich, Abu Dhabi, Bahrain and Barcelona – all in six days) and the plan for the weeks ahead (Paris, Geneva, Copenhagen, Biarritz, Paris, London). 

At 22.00, dishes were cleared, swim trunks pulled on and towels draped over shoulders. Our local bathing spot is a three-minute walk from the front door and given the warm evening I was expecting the lawn and stone walls to be filled with Zürchers knocking back rosé, chatting and canoodling. While I like the sense of community created by our little swimming set-up, I was happy to find the parkette quite empty – save for a couple who’d swum quite far out. Shirts off, we dove in, swam out and looked down the lake at Zürich twinkling in the distance. Perfection. 

Back on the platform, the other pair of swimmers were drying off. We nodded and exchanged a few words of delight at the magic of such a simple pleasure. Our upcoming quality of life issue focuses on ten cities that each excel in a specific lane and though we might not have a winner in the swimmable category, it should be a focus of every city hall to ensure that citizens have access to a cool, clean body of water where people can take the edge off, clear heads and sleep well. If you don’t live in such a city, the Monocle apartment is available this July. Drop my colleague Izumi (id@monocle.com) a note if you’d like to book.