August 16th, 2026

Last weekend, about 900,000 electronic music enthusiasts filled the shores of Lake Zurich for the Street Parade, considered the world’s largest techno event. The last time I attended was nine years ago, together with my dear friend Ivo, who has since passed away. I had also attended several previous editions, so these memories hold a very special place in my heart. The heat was intense, the crowd enormous and the music powerful enough to make the buildings vibrate, along with a few internal organs, probably. Nevertheless, I have wonderful memories. What struck me most was the remarkably calm and peaceful atmosphere. Despite the huge number of people gathered in a relatively limited space, everyone was relaxed, respectful and simply happy to share the experience. People fully embraced the music, the costumes and the unique energy that transforms Zurich into one enormous dance floor for a day.

This year, I preferred to watch the event on television. Given the current condition of my leg, joining a crowd of nearly 900,000 people would not have been particularly sensible. Instead, I enjoyed the atmosphere from the comfort of my sofa, in considerably more comfortable surroundings and with far less risk to my feet. But who knows? If my recovery continues to progress well, I may be able to attend again next year. This time, with two good shoes, plenty of enthusiasm and, as a precaution, a little space around me.

Thursday the 13th will remain an important date in my journey. For the first time since my accident, I spent an entire day without wearing my orthopaedic boot.

For more than three years, my left foot has experienced almost every form of protection imaginable: plaster casts, orthoses and, finally, that imposing Robocop style boot. It had almost forgotten what it felt like to walk in a normal shoe.

Putting on my new shoe was therefore a very special moment. It looks like an ordinary model, although it has been specially adapted to compensate for the difference in length between my legs. The adjustment is discreet and barely noticeable.

My first steps were cautious and somewhat uncertain. My body had to adapt to a new situation and rediscover its balance. After so many months of protection, my foot seemed almost surprised to be asked to work normally again. Fortunately, I soon felt comfortable. I even had the impression that my Robocop boot had officially retired.

To celebrate the occasion, I invited Deniz to a restaurant in the hills above Bern, with a beautiful view of the surrounding area. Unusually, he had Friday off because he had worked several weekends on both Saturdays and Sundays.

The evening brought us a lovely coincidence. Our waitress came from Turkish Kurdistan, about a three-hour drive from the region where Deniz’s family lives. They quickly struck up a conversation and spent a long time talking. For a few moments, the restaurant in Bern almost felt like a little corner of Dersim.

On Friday morning, we returned to the garden centre to buy a few vegetables for our allotment. We then visited my mother, where Deniz mowed the lawn. The word “lawn”, however, has become rather optimistic. After several weeks of intense heat and very little rain, it looks more like an arid landscape than an English garden.

We continued the day at the allotment, where we worked for a few hours. Once again, the harvest was generous: more potatoes, bringing our total to nearly twenty kilos, yellow and green peppers, green beans and several aubergines. The watering I had done earlier in the week seems to have encouraged their growth.

The sunflowers, on the other hand, are beginning to droop. They probably need more water, and their large flower heads have become too heavy for their stems. Nevertheless, they are a delight for the bees and birds, which are making the most of this abundance.

Next week, my goddaughter Ann will present her work at an exhibition vernissage. She has a genuine talent for drawing and is even considering leaving her job as a secondary school teacher to pursue an art college. It is an important and courageous decision. I am looking forward to discovering her work and, above all, to seeing her again.

Retiring my Robocop boot also opens up another possibility that is particularly close to my heart: finally being able to ride my motorbike again.

I prepared carefully for my return. I updated the software on my intercom, navigation system and motorbike. Everything was ready for a short first ride. I simply wanted to go to the petrol station to check the tyre pressures and fill the tank.

However, my enthusiasm was temporarily halted by an unexpected obstacle. My neighbour had parked his Range Rover in front of my motorbike with such precision that I could no longer get it out of its space. All the technology was up to date, the rider was ready, but the road was blocked before the journey had even begun.

My first few metres on the motorbike will therefore have to wait a little longer. My patience has been severely tested over the past few years. It should be able to survive a few more days, although I am extremely eager to get back on the road.

Being able to walk normally again, freely and without any mobility aids, is a feeling that is difficult to describe. Since my accident, I had not experienced such freedom of movement. Every step represents far more than simple physical progress.

This development has also had a positive effect on my morale. It has restored my independence, my confidence and, above all, given me a new perspective on the future. After a long and difficult period, I finally feel that a new chapter is beginning. This time, I hope to write it with normal shoes on my feet and, very soon, my hands on the handlebars.

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