I’ve been living in Fribourg for a while now, but this time, something felt different.

No plans. No must-see lists. Just a camera, an hour to spare, and a vague desire to notice things I usually overlook.

It’s strange how that sort of walk—without purpose—can bring things into focus.

Rue de Lausanne was our first address here. Not a home, exactly. More of a landing spot. We had just arrived from Ukraine, children in tow, the echo of air raid sirens still lingering in our ears.

Odesa is home. Fribourg is… the sort of apartment you rent and then wonder if someone designed it precisely for your taste, down to the last misplaced chair.

This street is pedestrian, quiet, with the usual suspects: bakeries, little shops, a smell of croissants that’s almost suspicious in its perfection—as if someone had added a touch of artificial nostalgia, though they haven’t. You smell childhood, even if you didn’t grow up with pastries. It has that reliable, postcard sense of “Old Europe”—though not the tired kind. Here, it feels lived-in. Honest. You end up photographing drainpipes and shutters as if they were monuments.

The Cathedral of Saint Nicholashttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fribourg_Cathedral—not technically on this street, but close enough to feel like it hovers—is what you’d expect. Grand. Watchful. Slightly arrogant. One day, I’ll climb its 76-metre tower and look down at the city from above. Will it change my life? Highly unlikely. But I want the view. And I have a mental checklist I don’t share with anyone. Not even myself.

Today, Fribourg is mostly French-speaking. But along Rue de Lausanne, the language begins to shift. That lilting, deliberate French—even the R in “bonjour” gets stretched like Vacherin Mont-d’Or—gradually gives way to the grittier rhythm of Swiss-German. Most of the city’s German-speaking residents live in the Lower Town, just beyond the cathedral. Down there, time seems to have stopped somewhere between the last witch trial and the present. And yes—witches were burnt here. I’ll tell you that story some other time.

If you’re drawn to quiet streets but prefer them with a lakeside view and more geraniums than shadows — Murten is a different story. A brighter one. Just a day away.
👉 Read: A Day in Murten

Rue de Lausanne is just one thread. If you’re curious about the city as a whole—its bridges, its rhythm, its peculiar mix of languages—start here.
👉 Explore Fribourg

Fribourg. “Free fortress,” if you take it literally. Not as ancient as Chur—that one dates back to pre-Celtic times—but still holding its age well. This year it turns 868.

I don’t know if we’ll stay here long. But we’ve already been introduced. And even shared the odd small talk—the kind with nods and weather.