The dog is 13. She celebrated her birthday on Friday by going to the vet to get her doggy travel documents. Then, in just a week’s time, she will join us on the drive from London to Mallorca. It’s a reminder that almost a year has passed since we noticed that something was up, took her to our vet in Palma and discovered that she had cancer. There were several tumours in her spleen, another in her shoulder. Back in London we were given a sobering assessment – let her alone and say goodbye within eight weeks or operate. We took route two but were warned that she would probably have a lame leg once a chunk of the shoulder around the tumour was removed. And still, we might only get a few more months. But here we are – the most recent scans showed no signs of cancer but the oncologist says that it will return one day. Even so.

I never had a dog as child but in adult life I have shared my home first with my partner’s border-collie mongrel mashup (adorable, clever), then a weimaraner (adorable, properly stupid) and now Macy the fox terrier (adorable, wily and very particular). They have all been good at training humans, good at getting you to see things from their perspective. But also skilled at passing on some life lessons along the way. Macy in particular.

When she finally came home after the surgery, Macy was shaved, her wounds stapled together and she was in pain. It would be days before she could even stand. But she has shown a fortitude that I wonder whether I could muster. She learned how to walk anew, favouring her stronger front leg, soon finding how to run and jump again. She showed no signs of being sad – just a look of surprise when, in the early days, that weak leg might buckle. I know that I can be too quick to judge something as viable or not, too easily annoyed when the pursuit of perfection ends with a compromise – but she has shown me that sometimes we just have to accept that things are a little different now, start over, find workarounds.

In the past year she has also revealed a gritty self-assurance, a determination to do things her way when it matters. Aware that strangers might knock her bad shoulder, she now lets out a funny squeak if their stroking seems to be getting too forceful. 
During the sweltering heat that hit London this week, she took herself to the roof terrace and slept there on her back, the breeze cooling her belly. I went to check up on her at 03.00, thinking of bringing her back to bed but instead I just watched her dreaming, legs twitching. Content to be alone.

It’s been a big week – a party for the launch of our Quality of Life Survey, our board meeting in Zürich, a quick dash to Spain. But when I’ve opened the door of my house, there has been a dog who squeals with delight at seeing me, runs around in circles in celebration and within minutes is curled up on the sofa, emitting sighs of joy. She knows to live for now, to make the most of every second. Perhaps she should write a self-help book. I definitely need a copy.

The Swiss city does sedate and secure well but there’s a badi full of fun to be had in Zürich too. Whether you’ve spent the day splashing in the Limmat or Sihl rivers, dipping into Lake Zürich or hiking the hills, you’ll need somewhere trusted to refuel afterwards. Here’s one option from our Zürich City Guide, where you can also download a handy map. Whatever your plans, make the journey from newsletter to monocle.com before departure. But first, here’s one of our favourite spots.

Choupette, Enge
This colourful modern brasserie is five minutes on foot from Lake Zürich and connected to the Locke am Platz hotel. In spring, the vol-au-vent aux chanterelles with asparagus and morels is a particular favourite. The tartares are freshly prepared at the table and an excellent wine list complements the dishes. The Tatjana von Stein-designed interior features decadent materials and bespoke furniture that sets the scene for the restaurant’s modern twist on French food with Nordic and Japanese cooking techniques. 

To read our full guide to Zürich, including a handy map, click here.

When the mercury hits a certain level in the UK, strange things can start to happen (writes Ed Stocker). Upwards of about 18C is the greenlight for short-wearing and firing up the barbecue. North of about 30C leads to full-scale fear of perspiration. Visiting Monocle’s London office recently from Milan, I happened to be in town during a heatwave (still a few degrees lower than the temperatures I’d left in northern Italy). Travelling on public transport, it wasn’t long before I began to hear a steady but muted humming sound, eventually located to a young woman holding a small, rechargeable electric fan about five centimetres from her face – locked in statuesque stillness but still looking decidedly hot and bothered. In my absence from UK summertime, these devices have seemingly proliferated, becoming a regular feature from the platform to festival fields. Some have even begun clipping these coolers to their lapels, aimed toward their face as the tube shuttles toward the next stop – needless to say that this is decidedly uncool.

Brits aren’t used to high temperatures except when escaping to Spain for the summer – where thankfully there’s a body of water to cool off in rather than some stranger’s armpit on the Bakerloo line. As hot temperatures become more of a norm even in temperate Blighty, the mini fan feels like a fad that’s here to stay. Back in Milan, we’ll keep our fans of the chic, manual variety and sheathed in our air-conditioned carriages.

For more top tips and inside knowledge on the UK capital, check out our London City Guide.

When Tivoli Gardens opened its gates in central Copenhagen 182 years ago, one of the first people through the turnstiles was the writer Hans Christian Andersen. Since then, this compact amusement park squeezed between the Central Station and City Hall has become more than just Denmark’s most popular visitor attraction; it’s a cultural landmark that holds a quasi-spiritual place in Danish hearts.

Tivoli’s history is a crucial element of its appeal – but as its CEO knows all too well, to compete in 2025’s attention economy you can’t coast on legacy alone. After a rollercoaster tenure which began during the Covid crisis, Tivoli posted a record for visitor numbers and turnover in 2024.

Monocle meets Koch to find out more about how she has shepherded this cherished Danish brand from catastrophe to triumph, and about her plans for the future.

Tivoli seems to hold a special place in the hearts of Danes. What is its appeal?
Many of us carry childhood memories from Tivoli. My family didn’t have a lot of money when I was young but we would visit Tivoli every summer as a family, and it was something that I looked forward to for the whole week running up to it. I couldn’t sleep the night before. And that’s still true for kids today. My favourite ride was Galejen – just little boats running round in a circle but it’s quite a legacy ride today and always busy. It even has a special smell and feel. Now, it’s the old wooden rollercoaster that I ride most often.

Who is your competition? Are you vying with computer games, streaming services and social media to capture the imagination of children?
No, not really, because we are so different from that world. There has been pressure to gamify the park with apps – but we have deliberately not done that. We are selling quality time and screens would get in the way of that. Of course, no one wants to stand in line and be bored, but we’re not afraid of people queuing a little: it’s where you can ground yourself, reflect on what you’ve just experienced and build anticipation. We see it as a benefit. Where apps can improve a visit, we use them – restaurant bookings, for instance – but we don’t want technology to be part of the show. And you don’t have to book a table, there’s always room for a little spontaneity. 

How do you balance the history of Tivoli with a need to innovate?
When I started, people warned me that I risked provoking outrage by changing things. But I’m yet to experience that. Tivoli has always moved forward, it has never shied away from change. If it had done so, it would risk becoming a postcard version of itself – what use is a theme park with no thrill? From the start, my guideline has been that it has to make sense to the people who live just outside our walls. It’s not a typical amusement park that could be anywhere – with live entertainment and good food, we cater to more than tourists and day trippers.

To read the full interview, click here. And if you’re thinking of travelling to or settling in the Danish capital, let our Copenhagen City Guide tell you everything that you need to know.