A free day and it was my birthday so
someone suggested we zap down to Venice for the day - why not? I soon
decided I would rather go in the winter. In summer the place is like
a sauna, the high temperature and wringing humidity combining to make
a smog that shows up even inside buildings! It's kind of awesome to
feel the ancient history of the place though - like standing in the
1000 year old St Mark's Cathedral. A thousand years. How can anything
be that old?
One guy had the first come-down of the
group. We guessed he'd be in for an ach schiese award that night. He
made it over the passes through heavy rain at the Timmelsjoch, with
snow and ice by the roadside, but came down very gently on a corner
while looking at a waterfall. Both he and the bike lost only pride
and a little skin. Physician heal thyself, so he did.
From our hotel window at the Austrian
ski town of Obergurgl we could hear cows with bells walking across
the carpark. The hills are alive... inside our TV showed 'The Flying
Doctors' dubbed in German.
Next morning we rode back over the
Timmelsjoch in clear sunshine, then paid $1.85 for a liter of petrol
in Italy. A few miles on in Switzerland it was almost half that.
Being Australians, we'd had to get
visas - at horrendous cost - to enter France. The Beach tour skirts
the French border but we decided we were going to get something for
our money, so we went into France; 12Km through Mt Blanc, on to
Geneva, then onto the night's hotel at Montreux.
We followed a back road along the
shores of Lake Geneva, studiously avoiding the autobahn entrances, to
our very placid overnight stay at Montreux. The Bonivard was our best
hotel and had a magnificent view of the lake and Chillon Castle. The
ancient and modern contrasts here as the autobahn towered over the
circa AD1300 castle. Early next morning we toured the castle, the
only time we did any touristy things. I find that my enjoyment of any
tourist attraction is inversely proportional to the number of other
loopies also visiting. We vacated when a busload of Japanese arrived.
Among other thing, Chillon Castle is famous for the stone pillar
which bears the carved name of Lord Byron, who spent some time in the
dungeon as a guest. Very depressing place.
Returning to Switzerland we asked the
French border guards for a 'souvenir stamp, s'il vous plait'. This
caused great amusement amongst the officers, who kept sarcastically
repeating our request, but they delivered eventually anyway. I'm not
sure it was worth $66 though! But we flaunted them to the Americans
that night anyway. They don't need French visas.
We headed for the small principality
of Liechtenstein via more Swiss backroads. To travel on a Swiss
autobahn requires a $30 permit which lasts for a year. To be caught
without one costs about $100, hence an added reason to use the
backroads. Our entrance to Vaduz, Leichtenstein was right through a
Swiss army camp. Imagine our surprise when, just as we were about to
ride though a medieval gate, a Swiss guard popped out, holding a
serious looking rifle. "Quick, take a picture," I whispered
to Kate. "Are you nuts?" came the reply. Our surprise was
evident to the guard's mates, who were sitting down some distance
away, falling about laughing.
Switzerland, despite being neutral, is
very heavily fortified. Many mountain passes and bridges have subtle
little trapdoors in the road which hide goodness knows what kind of
emasculators. Quite a few mountains facing the roads also have iron 'windows'
hiding other neutralizers.
We were scheduled for a couple of
nights at Interlaken in central Switzerland and a more spectacular
setting would be hard to find. The group scattered for the free day,
some just sitting up in the Hills watching the scratchers at it again.
We counted sixteen motorcycles in a row at one point, followed by a
red Ferrari, with colorful para-gliders on the skyline.
Kate and I, in company with some
Belgians, took the opportunity to take a helicopter flight up to the
roof of Switzerland at Jungfraujoch. We landed in the snow on a
plateau at 4000 meters. Both the Matterhorn and Mt Blanc, Europe's
highest mountain, were in clear view. Christian, the young pilot of
the French helicopter, then flew us to a hiker's hut for lunch. It
was kind of awesome to be sitting in the sun, eating our lunch with
only a few other people around, watching a group of trekkers roped
together, slowly inching their way up a glacier. A
ten-out-of-ten-trip.
There are lots of variations in
Europe's mountain passes. Some are really beautiful scenic
wonderlands, like the Susten and Julier. Others like the Stelvio, are
barren and tight, with up to 47 hairpins in a climb of a few
kilometers. The top of the Stelvio was almost a traffic jam of bikes
and cars.
After three weeks of bliss our party
was about to break up. Our last overnight stay on tour was at the
King Ludwig Castle of Neuschwanstein; what incredible excesses there.
Then we headed back to our hotel in Munich for a rest. Next evening
was the time for the traditional dinner and speeches before the group
dispersed. Some went on through Europe or to the UK, others back to
the States. We headed for Berlin, London and the USA. We left Bob and
Elizabeth Beach with ten days to prepare for an influx of 27
participants for the Octoberfest tour. Hard work for them, but
someone has to do it!
(This article is contributed by Beach's
Motorcycle Adventures - Editor. For more interesting travel
articles, please visit InfoHub
Specialty Travel Guide)
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The
speedo was nudging 180 and still they flashed past. Up to 190 and
the overtaking slowed, but they were still pulling away from us in
the outside lane. Determined not to be outdone I pulled into the
left lane and latched on to the tail of one of these missiles and
poured on some coals. A white BMW 525i and our metallic green K100LT
formed a train at a steady 200Kmh, the big LT steady as a rock and
the fairing providing a pocket of relative serenity.