Platzspitz: From Needle Park to Family Picnic Spot

Welcome back to my "Every European City" Series. As you can see from the photos, I came across this fictional city's map last fall, and I thought I'd like to (dis)prove the statements. 

Let’s take the “Drug Dealer Park” as an example. Fortunately, this no longer applies to Zurich, but boy, do we have a history.

Platzspitz, or "Needle Park," became infamous in the late 1980s and early 1990s as an open drug scene where hundreds of addicts gathered to use heroin. Located at the northern end of Zurich's main railway station, where the Sihl (yep, single syllable!) and Limmat rivers meet, it drew people from all across Europe and became a site of public drug use, unsanitary conditions, and a devastating rise in overdose deaths and violence.

In 1992, after years of trying to manage the crisis with harm reduction policies, authorities officially shut the park down. Police cleared the remaining users, and the park was fenced off. The scene shifted to the abandoned Letten railway station, until that, too, was closed in 1995.

Problem solved?

Not quite. Drug addiction didn’t disappear, but things started to change thanks to pioneering, state-funded approaches that focused on care rather than punishment:

• Needle exchange programs and safe injection rooms were introduced to reduce the spread of HIV and Hepatitis C.

• Methadone programs helped stabilize users’ lives.

• Heroin-assisted treatment was legalized, allowing registered addicts to receive pharmaceutical heroin under medical supervision.

These initiatives helped keep people alive and steered them away from street drugs like fentanyl. Still, new challenges have emerged. Cocaine and cannabis use is arguably on the rise, and increasingly normalized.

Let me show you what these areas look like today.

Here’s the Letten neighborhood now. One striking feature is the Stazione Paradiso, a repurposed Berlin S-Bahn carriage set right along the River Limmat.

Painted on the carriage is this heartfelt message:

For two decades
you have been pulling this wagon,
through 20 years with sweat and diligence,
you have been driving on the right track.

It’s more like 30+ years now, but the sentiment remains. I find it incredibly moving. I watch every documentary I can on homelessness and addiction, and while some former users have recovered and built fulfilling lives, others didn’t make it. Some are still just surviving, day to day.

Today, when the weather plays along, benches throughout the area invite you to linger. On my last visit - late October, no less - I even saw a few brave souls swimming in the Limmat!

I also stumbled upon a group of tourists enjoying a casual riverside picnic. I wondered if they had any idea that, decades ago, this very place symbolized human suffering rather than leisure.

Strolling through this serene park, where birds chirp, herons prowl, and children laugh, it's difficult to reconcile the past with the present.

Switzerland is known for its cleanliness, and we work hard to keep it that way. That’s why it’s particularly jarring to find litter left behind. But then I reminded myself: back in the day, we would’ve gladly traded used needles and human tragedy for a couple of plastic forks and napkins.

When the topic of drug legalization comes up, some people point out the hypocrisy: Alcohol and tobacco are statistically more harmful and yet widely accepted, even celebrated. Sadly, they have a point. It’s still too easy in Europe to drink and smoke openly. No one even blinks when two guys crack open a beer in public on a Saturday afternoon.

But today, it's beautiful here. I’m so glad I came.

Back then, this area was off-limits to me. I only knew the misery from TV, and to be honest, that was enough. The deterrent worked. I was never tempted. Also, truthfully, I rarely had the opportunity.

When I was about 16, I went to an event on drug prevention. I turned out to be the only minor in a room full of concerned parents. The key message was clear: Give young people a stable environment, teach them how to say “no,” and encourage other interests, sports, music, anything positive.

Growing up as I did, this seemed obvious. But now that I’m a parent myself, I know how much it takes to offer children that kind of environment.

My son is now 16, too. He goes to parties where alcohol isn’t the only thing available. I’m relieved to see he seems to be following in our footsteps, mine and his father's.

Places change. Stories evolve. What was once a site of despair can become a peaceful picnic spot, full of laughter and light. But the echoes of the past remain, reminding us how fragile, and how resilient, our societies can be.

Have you ever visited a place that had a dark or difficult past, but today feels completely transformed? How did it make you feel to walk through it?