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About Biel-Bienne

So, picture this: me, green lil’ me, cruisin’ some dusty road. “Where’s the body?”—nah, scratch that, “Where’s the gal?” I’d be all nervous, ribbitin’ to myself, “Kermit, don’t screw this up!” Prolly spot her leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as heck. I’d roll up, all polite—Hi-ho, miss!—and she’d smirk, like, “What’s a frog want?” Ha! I’d die laughin’ inside.

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Now, the parks… oh man! The Parco San Martino is a riot. Tiny benches under huge trees. I once met a lovelorn poet ramblin’ about life's mysteries -- me, a sexologist, couldn’t help but smirk at his absurd philosophies… like, come on, mate! And then there's the little creek, Rio di Sogni, which flows past dei piccoli giardini. Its murmurin’ always sends shivers down my spine, if ya know what I mean!

Swiss architect Luigi Snozzi dies of Covid-19