A website for a small Swiss business
The site somebody finds when they look up your name, or when they search for what you do and the town you do it in. Eight pages, written for you rather than left as empty boxes, on a private link within two days.
The design is not the hard part. Getting eight pages to say what you would say on the phone is the hard part, and it is the part that stalls most small-business sites for a month.
What actually happens,
and when it is your turn.
Your rows are marked. Add them up and the whole thing costs you well under two hours, which is the number every other agency's process page leaves out.
From the call to the day it goes live. One figure for the whole build, agreed in writing before any of it starts.
What moves it: page count, how much of the writing is ours, and whether it ships in one language or three.
YouTwenty minutes on a call. What you do, who you want walking in, what the site has to make happen.
The call becomes a brief: the pages, the language, the fixed price. It arrives the same evening.
YouRead the brief. Correct whatever we heard wrong — this is the cheapest moment on the whole project to do it.
The layout is drawn and every page is filled with real words, not lorem. It goes up on a private link.
YouOpen the link on your phone and say what is wrong with it. Four sentences in a mail is the useful version of this.
Photographs placed, forms wired, opening hours, the map, the legal pages, the search titles. Every change lands on the same link within the hour.
YouSay the date. Domain, mail and analytics are pointed, redirects from the old site are built from what was actually being visited.
It goes live. Not before — there is no soft launch you did not ask for.
Six choices
only you can make.
None of these are technical and all of them change the result. They are listed here so the call has an agenda and so you can think about them before it rather than during it.
Decided on the call from what you actually sell. A page you do not need is not built to fill a grid, and four good pages beat eight thin ones.
One is in the price. A second is a fixed addition quoted before it starts, and it is a real translation somebody read.
A phone call, a booking, a visit, or an enquiry with enough detail to quote from. Everything else on the page gets arranged around whichever you pick.
Real pictures of your premises are the biggest visual upgrade available to you. If there are none, the layout is drawn to work without them rather than to leave holes.
One address, or several by subject. It matters more than it sounds: an enquiry nobody owns is an enquiry nobody answers.
Yours, in your name. If you do not have one yet we will tell you what to register and why, and you will still own it.
What to have ready.
None of it is required. All of it makes the price firmer and the first draft closer.
Three questions
this one gets and the others do not.
What if I do not know what to write?
Then you talk and we write. That is the normal case, not the awkward one — you get a draft to correct rather than an empty box to fill in, and correcting a draft takes ten minutes where writing from nothing takes a month.
Will it be found on Google?
It will be set up properly: titles, descriptions, the structured data a search engine reads, a sitemap, and your business listing pointing at the same facts the site states. What that reliably wins is your own name and your trade plus your town. It will not win a term the whole canton is bidding on, and nobody quoting you a week can honestly say otherwise.
Can I edit it myself afterwards?
You can, and most people find they would rather not. Changing the opening hours is a sentence in a mail and it is on the link the same day under the care plan. If you genuinely want to edit it yourself, say so on the call — it changes how it is built, and it is better decided at the start than bolted on.
If what you actually need is for people to book time without phoning, look at the booking system instead.