The DadLadTour (Now Actually In Switzerland)

Day 2 (Part 1) – Zürich – Munches, Museums And Moore

The Match – The hosts Switzerland take on the Finns

July 10th 2025

It is Day 2 of the DadLadTour and there is a lot to tell you about.

We are leaving Zürich after just one night. Genève is our destination for the crunch match between Switzerland and Finland. A draw for the hosts and they go through to the quarter-finals; lose tonight and the Finns will pip them to second spot, behind Norway, in Group A.

We leave the apartment shortly before 0800. I offer Liam a slice of the small loaf of rye bread (Lidl’s finest) which I thought would be an ideal size to pack and would help sustain us if it proved too costly to eat in Switzerland! We munch contentedly as we head to Bahnnof Opfikon to catch a train – not one of those pesky and elusive trams – into the city centre.

(*Note: Swiss public transport is precision timed. If your train is scheduled to leave at 0827, that is exactly when it leaves, and it arrives bang on time too. You could set your cuckoo clocks by these trains. Trams I am less sure of – after all we struggled to find the ones we wanted – but I expect them to just as punctual.)

What a glorious morning. Bright sunshine and gorgeous blue sky, not a cloud in sight. The temperature is already rising. Cyclists abound, lazily pedalling down the (almost) traffic free roads. Folks of all sorts – kids; young women; men in suits; stylishly attired ladies – cruise past on scooters. You know, those electric “standy up” scooters. Although, there are many of the traditional scooters being ridden all over the place. Cars go by but they are all courteous and considerate of the people on the bikes and other forms of transport. It is all very calm and pleasant.

It is only just 0815 and getting hotter by the second. #SonInLawNo1 and I escape the baking concrete and descend to the cool station beneath. So cool, so cool! It’s relaxing in the depths of the Opfikon. Until a swarm of noisy shool-children arrive. A teacher accompanies them. It looks like they might be heading off for a day trip. Mr Chips gathers them around him. Their chatter dies down a little. Some of the students spot our England shirts and seem intrigued. They glance at us, a few whispering together.

We take a leisurely stroll – it is far too warm to dash about! – and head for the southern end of the city. The Limmat flows northwesterly from its source at Lake Zurich before joining the river Aare downstream. (The Aare is a stretch of water where – unknown to us at this stage – #SonInLawNo1 and I pass a pleasant hour later during our trip. More of that when I get to Day 3.)

The Limmat is a beautiful river. Simply stunning. Swans glide along its turquoise waters. It is peaceful and soothing to watch. Little would you suspect that, along the length of its 35km route, it is used by no less than ten power stations to generate hydroelectric power. Maybe it’s the thrashing from the feet of all those swans floating calmly by that helps to power Switzerland…..?

Into Lidl we go to stock up and to grab a picnic lunch.

Two baguettes (both different fillings so we can do swapsies and share them), a pot of pasta salad, two waters, a banana (for Liam) and a pastry (for me). Just shy of 30 CHF. And that’s at Lidl. Where, incidentally, this particular store does not have a “midl of Lidl”. This one’s “midl” is off to one side in a sort of wing. The “wingl of Lidl” lacks a certain rhythm.

We pause at Lake Zürich to take some pictures. It is impressive. Absolutely staggering in its scale and majesty. A handily located bench takes the weight of our backpacks as we sit to munch the pasta salad that I now worry will spoil if we leave it too long in the heat before eating.

Believe me, this is a spectacular setting for an alfresco breakfast.

Picking up my phone to snap more pics, I inadvertently dial a number. I don’t kill the call and chat for several minutes with my Old Man. It is nice to share this moment/setting/experience with my dad. After all, he was my first companion on away matches. Now Liam is.

I sense that the circle is nearing completion, the baton is being passed on.

Dad asks where we are heading next. “Genève for the match,” I tell him. “But we’re off to the FIFA museum here first.”

And, pulling on our packs, that is where we head.

26 CHF each to get in. 52 total. I suppose it’s about standard for something of this nature. Still, it is a hefty wedge of the 150 I brought with me.

Is the FIFA museum worth that sum? For me, nah. I mean, it’s okay. But, it’s not great. In my view, it’s all a little too self-congratulatory. Swollen and padded. But that’s just me. I’m grumpy GrumpPa.

The ground floor has a lot of stuff about the recent (At least it was at the time of writing. I haven’t paid much attention to FIF’As latest nonsensical money-making scheme. Is it still ongoing?) FIFA World Club Cup. They really are flogging that inflated cash-cow of a horse. No thanks, FIFA.

My three takeaways from the museum are:

1. The quite colourful and impressive display of current shirts from all the member nations. It’s arranged like a colour wheel, or a decorators paint swatch, with all the coloured shirts fanned out. I seek out England’s shirt before moving on to snap the shirts of the other nations we will be watching whilst over here. I also gaze upon the German national shirt. Anyone who knows me will attest to my love and admiration of Germany’s team shirts. Sure they have had a few stinkers but, largely, they are magnificent shirts.

2. FIFA has a number of cabinets dedicated to women’s football. I do not know if these are permanent displays or simply for the duration of the EURO 2025 tournament. These interest me more than the ones for the men’s World Cups.

3. They show a brief, but illuminating film about the women’s game. This I find fascinating.

Those three aside, the FIFA museum doesn’t thrill me. We stay less than an hour. At the end of which we remove our packs from our locker and depart. All the lockers have the names of players adorning them; Eusebio, Maradonna, Puskás and many more.

I chose to place our bags into a locker labelled “MOORE”. Being an Englishman, what else do you expect from me? Rather annoyingly FIFA has chosen to number the locker they designated in honour of England’s World Cup winning captain as……number 3.

That’s FIFA for you.