“Train, tram, trek—by now I know the way. It’s my sixth Zürich Openair festival, the first that I’m hell-bent on hitting all four nights. I hang a quick left before the sewage treatment plant and start up the dusty path to the grounds.” D.B. Miller’s latest dispatch from Zürich Openair.
“Thirty-four years after the letter, I find myself in the back of an SUV on the way to a Who concert. While my parents discuss dinner options from the front seat, I try in vain to forge a link between the teenage fan and the adult.” D.B. Miller’s latest installment.
“If you slip and almost step on a waterlogged mouse, do not attempt an artsy contortion. You will pull a muscle in your back.” D.B. Miller walks us through eight steps to success when attending Zürich’s open-air festival.