Photo Walk Bern: Twelve perspectives, one "Hoo-hoo"
Updated: 5 hours ago
Sunshine over Bern, but a north wind that cuts through every jacket. Nevertheless, on November 1st, shortly before ten o'clock, all twelve registered participants were ready at Bern train station, camera or mobile phone in hand. No one was missing, no one was late. The Bern Photo Walk could start on time.
Finding me was easy anyway: anyone with red hair like Pumuckl isn't going to get lost in a crowd. I'd already been told that in Zurich, and I heard it again in Bern.
Whoever is coming along
I already recognized four faces from the Zurich Photo Walk. One of them had brought a colleague along, simply because he'd told him about it. Two others had met me at my exhibition at Photo Münsingen. The rest were new.
What always surprises me is how different the people are who sign up for such a morning. Different professions, different phases of life, different paths to photography. None of that ever mattered. People immediately struck up conversations, looked over each other's shoulders, compared perspectives, and some soon found themselves talking about something completely different than photography.
The range of photographic approaches is also vast. Some still develop film in a darkroom, while others primarily use their smartphones. Like me, by the way: I only take my phone with me on every walk. My real tool is the editing process afterwards.
From Bundesplatz under the arcades
From the train station, we crossed the square and walked through the alley to the Federal Palace. We circled it completely, including the terrace at the back. There, a couple from India had their picture taken by us; she was wearing a short-sleeved red dress, in temperatures that made it hard for the rest of us to get our hands out of our pockets.
Then we entered the arcades. Arches, shadows, glimpses through them, and at the end of the alley, the Zytglogge (Clock Tower). One motif captivated almost everyone, and it wasn't a building: the tram. The way it glided through the narrow streets, beneath the network of overhead lines, created images I hadn't expected.
Along the way, we had a lesson in local history, and not from me. A participant from the region explained why the street signs in Bern's old town are different colors. After the French occupation in 1798, the districts were color-coded to help the soldiers find their way around. The twist: Yellow and red were also the colors of a Bernese youth organization, and the French didn't notice.
Photo: Brigitte Aeberhard Photo: Thomas Wyser
"Hoo-hoo"
A dozen people with cameras aren't moving in unison. One stops to admire a reflection, another waits for the next tram, a third kneels on the pavement for a low-angle shot. To help us find each other, I've brought along a call I developed on my trip to Switzerland with guests from North America: a drawn-out "Hoo-hoo." It sounds friendlier than "Hello, where are you all?" and works surprisingly well. The group is now calling back.
One participant also took wonderful care of me. When I'm taking photos, I leave my backpack open because it's quicker. He saw this, reminded me several times, and eventually, he simply stepped quietly behind me and zipped it up himself. Three times that morning.
Photo Walk Bern 2026: Coffee against the north wind
About halfway through the trip, someone wanted something warm, and the majority immediately agreed. So we made an unplanned stop at Café Kramer, which was perfect timing. Hands around cups, the first pictures on the screens, group photos. After that, it was already time for the activity I had organized for the group.
One of the participants lost sight of us shortly before we arrived at the café. I called her. She took it in stride, went straight to the meeting point at the Kornhauskeller, and waited for us there. Sometimes even the loudest "Hoo-hoo" isn't enough.
Kornhauskeller: more than a quick look
A brief photo stop in the Kornhauskeller had been announced. It turned into much more. Stefano, operations manager at Bindella in Bern, greeted us and gave us a tour of the cellar, right in the middle of operations.
The granary was built between 1711 and 1718 and is considered a masterpiece of Bernese Baroque architecture. Beneath its imposing vaulted ceiling lies a bar with a ceiling fresco and gallery. The ceiling and walls are listed as historical monuments. Stefano explained that initially, Italian cuisine was served there until it was realized that it didn't suit the building. Today, Swiss cuisine is on the menu.
As an added bonus, he opened the wine cellar for us, which contained bottles worth several hundred francs, and the otherwise locked bar mezzanine. One room remained closed because the key wouldn't work. As we were leaving, there was a mirror hanging on the stairs, in front of which several members of the group couldn't tear themselves away.
Aperitif in the Verdi's vaulted cellar
From there, Stefano led us through the narrow streets to the Ristorante Verdi. Along the way, the story of the colored street signs came up, and even he wasn't familiar with it.
Instead, he showed us something else: an empty pedestal with a small staircase. It was there, he explained, so that everyone could be a statue for a day. I couldn't resist and climbed up. For a moment, Bern had one more monument—one with red hair. Down below, cameras were clicking, and I've since received the photos as proof:
Photo: Brigitte Aeberhard Photo: Kerstin Koch Photo: Kerstin Koch
The Verdi's vaulted cellar has its own story: It used to be an ordinary storage cellar. Rudi Bindella senior thought it was too beautiful for that and had it converted for guests. For storage, they simply dug another level deeper.
Bindella offered us an aperitif in this cellar. Candlelight on glass and stone, conversations about wine and why pure Pinot Noir is among the most difficult wines to make. The white wine even won me over, and I hardly ever drink white wine.
Nine of us stayed for dinner afterwards, at a long table on the gallery in the Verdi building. Beforehand, I showed the group my Zine Studio, a free app for creating zines from your own photos. And I posed a question to the group: Would you be interested in a joint photo editing session? The answer was a resounding yes.
The same place, seen in a completely different way
One phrase kept coming up that day: It's fascinating how others see the same place completely differently. The photos I've received since then also illustrate this. Twelve people, the same route, and hardly any two pictures are alike. Two of them are shown here as representatives. I would have loved to include them all in this post, which is why they have their own place in the gallery.
Photo: Martin Dolleschel Photo: Kerstin Koch
Participants were once again able to submit their photos. Eleven out of twelve took advantage of this opportunity.
What the group says
Reviews on Luma: five out of five stars. In addition, there were email responses. A few sentences from them:
"Even as a Bernese myself, I found the guided tour, including the interesting background information about the Kornhauskeller and the Verdi, provided by the Bindella representatives, fascinating!" – Participant from Bern
"The smaller group definitely helped with the exchange of ideas and learning so much about you and the other participants." – Participant, already there in Zurich
"So many friendly people, nice conversations, and great, creative ideas. I'd love to come again." – Participant
"I think your idea of adding something special to the walks is great." – Participant
What happens next?
The walks are on hold in November; the north wind and early darkness don't make things any easier. Nevertheless, ideas are already being discussed. One of them was confirmed with a resounding "yes" by the group during our aperitif: taking photos together in the morning, editing them together in the afternoon while the day is still fresh. I'll decide when and where as soon as the time comes.
The tram: from mobile phone photo to surreal edit
Bindella Bern made the aperitif and tour possible. Thank you, Stefano, for your time, the stories, and the open doors. And thank you to all twelve of you who came along on this cold Sunday. It was fantastic!
If you'd like to join next time, sign up for the waiting list. One entry is all it takes: you'll find out 24 hours before everyone else when and where the next photo walk will take place. What made me especially happy: All participants who weren't yet on the waiting list added themselves after the walk.
Once you've gone along, you're caught forever.
