Fifteen For a Day
When we were planning this trip we vaguely pencilled in some days off from cycling. What we didn’t plan was what we would do to fill those days. For sure we will fit in some training for the marathon, but for our first we clearly couldn’t be bothered with anything so strenuous. Sight-seeing was out of the window too because nice as it is, Chalons de Champagne is lacking a tourist draw.
Quite by accident we fell into a day of activities from our youth. We somehow found ourselves in a time warp of cruising around on our bicycles looking for mischeif. We headed for a swim in the River Marne at a pretty urban looking diving board we spotted from the road on the way into town. When we got there we realised it was no longer open for business and we had to scale a wall to get inside. What we found was a derelict dreamland of grafitti. The diving board structure had stairs spiralling up to a three and five metre jumps. To our disappointment the river had silted up below and the structure swayed a little too much to inspire confidence. Rex was the first in the freezing water and Rob didn’t hesitate from the high board to take the award for big balls of the day.
Later on we took in eight holes of fiercely competitive crazy golf (congratulations to Dan), a round of crossbar challenge (Rob takes the prize there) and a spot of Wiff Waff (Table Tennis). We rounded the day off with a game of conckers and greasy sausages and chocolate pudding for our naughty boy dinner.
Our first break from the saddle took us back to the days of riding down the Adur to hang out at Shoreham beach, an afternoon at Brooklands or a jump from the arm at Shoreham harbour. Whatever we might have left behind we have certainly packed our inner child.
(Keep an eye on the homepage for Rob’s daredevil jump in HD!).
High Prices & High Passes
As we left Chalons and our youthful day of rest the road headed south east, destination Switzeland. It was all pleasant French towns and green fields as the first day’s evening came upon us. Stopping to buy supplies Tim and I waited for Rob and Rex as they headed back to find an Intermarche we had apperently missed. Sitting on the curbside not looking our Sunday best we were aproched by a man asking about our trip. After a small bit of chit-chat, which is generally the case when you dont speak a lot of French, the man offered us a cup of coffee. Politely we said “Oui missuer”.
The boys arrived back as we explained the kind gentlemans offer. Just then the man and his wife returned carrying a tray full of coffee, cake, biscuits and yoghurt which was met with four very gratefull “Merci’s”. I had experienced random acts of kindness before in Morroco but not in the middle of France. Later they explained they were from Algeria, which led to me and Tim thinking maybe we should head there.
The weather was scorching as we cycled on through France, taking advantage of the shade in sleepy towns, whilst our tents had a chance to dry out from the previous night’s dew. Sadly it was time for Rob and Rex to depart us, as they headed south towards Marsielle and the warmth of the Mediterainian coast. The two of them had brought a relaxed holiday feel to the start of our trip, taking some of the early pressures off. Saying goodbye outside a supermarket seemed fitting after spending a lot of time in their carparks over the previous few weeks.
We awoke on our first morning as two to Rain, lots of it!! just managing to sneak in a quick cuppa and a pain au chocolate, before packing our things and headed into the wet weather. There was really no restbite as we took lunch in a dissused petrol station, heating our hands on warm cups of tea. We arrived soaked, to the town of Gayordeto planning to use the following day as a laundry day. Unfortunately, as it is when its been raining all day and you’re tired and wet, the campsite was closed. However, with every cloud having a silver lining the person we asked had a horse riding school with ample space for two cycle tourers plus a kitchen for us to sample. We didnt hesitate at the offer as we slept opposite a few four legged friends.
A short ride the following morning saw us finally have our laundry day in the town of Belfort before we headed on the next day into our second country, Switzerland. Coming from the UK we were quite used to things being a little expensive but Switzeland blew our minds. It certanly wasn’t the place to be on a budget cycling tour but, we were here and Italy stood on the other side.
The first day was a rather classic day in the land of the Swiss. First we grabbing a photo with the infamous milka cow followed by our first climb which topped out at 856m. To be honest it was quite enough of an introduction, as we munched down another carbo loaded supper after an evening dip in the river. The temperature of the Alpine stream made you feel slightly less of a Man! Another day, another climb as we made our way to the City of Luzern. Steep switch-backs forced our granny gears out of retirement as we hit the top at 1050m before a quick descent ensued.
After camping in another field we were ready for a bit of city life in Luzern, but once again the budget wouldn’t quite stretch to the Lamborghini lifestyle of camping in this country. £25 for 1 night “…err, no thanks think we will just camp outside the city!”. It was a shame as our legs grew tired of going up and down hills. Fatigued, we pedled on out of the city and around a beautiful lake but with the scenery being so sheer and stunning camping spots were squashed out by millionare homes. Eventually we laid our heads to rest in an old quary to which Tim and I both felt might fall ontop of our tents at any moment.
As the Sun’s rays came through the mountains we knew we were in for a big day. Snow capped peaks surrounded us and the road did nothing to give our legs the little nursing they required. One up followed the next untill we were in the climb for the summit of the Oberlap pass. Switch-backs cut through the mountain as our progress was slow and steady. The white capped peaks moving ever closer.
It was long, having climbed for alomost 30-40km we finally hit the snowline and beyond to the pass at 2046m. Relieved, we grabbed a hot chocolate in celebration, before the rollercoaster style decent commenced. Tired, we put our tents right in the center of a small mountian village complete with small church, swiss cottages and snow capped peaks. Postcard stuff!!
The downhill continued for much of the following morning and cycling was a real pleasure, weaving down the valley following the river below as it carved its own route through the mountian landscape. With two climbs to go before leaving the Alps both of which were above 2000m, plus socks and pants running their second course we needed another laundry day and more importantly some rest. Tactically we camped just before the town of Sauvignon so we would only have to pay for one night’s camping and could make full use of the washer and dryer plus the one day free lift pass… oh la la!
Our granny gears were used to being back at work as we began our second major climb the following morning. We both felt more confident, taking regular breaks to shake out tired legs. Starting out at 1150m and having to climb to 2284m took its time and at one point upon seeing a nice cafe’ perched at the top of yet another set of switch backs surrounded by snow we thought all was done. That was until the road wound its way off into the distance beyond, giving us a sense of “where is the top”. Our wheels finally ground to a hault at the classic cliche sign just as a cyclist on a racer wizzed by to start their descent. I just looked down at my heavy bags!
Donning all our warm weather gear we bombed it down to the town of St Moritz to have lunch in yet another postcard setting. The sun was strong and we spread the camping gear out to dry followed by our legs which needed a bit of life to be fed back into them from the descent. It was strange to think, surrounded by such dramatic scenery, that we had only left our home town a few weeks before and were now engulfed by this landscape. The afternoon took on a simple moto and with good reason with our highest climb to date kicking off the following morning, “cycle untill it starts going up again”. Sticking to it we finshed pretty early but the good thing was that we had only dropped to 1785m which left about 500m to the top of the Passo del Bernina , the only thing between us and Italy.
We awoke to heavy clouds on our final day in Switzerland, panniers packed with a few extra bananas we began our ascent of the pass. Again, progress continued from where it left off, slow and steady. Soon enough we were deep in the clouds which hung low in the valley, This combined with a light wind made it feel pretty cold but with the heat generated from our cycling it was too uncomfortable to wear any sort of warm jacket or shell. The top was a lonley affair, barely seeing the sign until we were about ten metres away and with no one around to take our photo we had to do a bit of tripod D.I.Y. Staying for the breifest of moments to enjoy all of the view which probally consisted of about 100 metres squared, we headed down to the Italian border. Dropping approximatly 2000m the downhill was imense, taking tight bends like a motorbike then trying to break our current maximum speed of 66kph-which stood from France on the straights-Kilometers of tarmac going under our wheels until we hit the border. 67kph awoogah!
Having planned to include the mountains on our route may have appeared a bit strange considering the 40kg bikes we are carrying, but it was the first thing which Tim and I decided upon when we first looked at crossing Europe. Sometimes the climbs were tough but, as our legs became stronger the sense of enjoyment grew and was accompanied be a huge sense of calmness and privalage to be able to ride through such a dramatic landscape.
If Switzerland seemed expensive then Italy seems even cheaper now. It has been great to be able to sit in cafes and not worry that your coffee will cost half your daily budget and the fresh pasta, well they’re practically giving it away. After leaving the Alps behind we headed to the town of Brescia. The roads were already a lot more hectic as we tried not to get stuck on the motorways and whilst avoiding death trap tunnels. This produced our first peice of tresspassing as we opted to use the currently closed cycle path rather than the 1.6km black hole of doom. Stopping in the city centre we soaked up the piazza life style grabbing a sneaky pizza and doing a spot of internet whilst watching Italians sip coffees.
We now head to Venice for slightly more than just one day’s rest, hopefully to endulge in a little touristic fun.
Hope your all well
Dan and Tim
