Belgium to Italy by Bike - 5

Stupidly Blue!

The Hotel Gasthof Alte Poste hotel Wassen fed us well. We ate local fair consisting of shredded potato and lots of yummy cheese, egg and ham (Rösti). The smorgasbord of fruit, yoghurt, breads, juice, ham and cheeses fuelled us up for the day in readiness for the next foray along the glorious vista packed roads of Switzerland.

Our Rösti dishes - delicious.

After breakfast we walked across the road and peered down to the traffic that still backed up for several miles.
 
'It’s a holiday, everyone is heading south, the tunnel only has one lane,' the girl at the information bureau said. We’d tried our luck at one mountain pass (Furkapass) to find it closed.
‘Can we go this way?' I pointed to our map, at the Gotthardpass there was one other option.
'Yes, it will add an hour to your journey, but it’s open.'
 
We meandered up mountain with a glut of switch-backs, drifting snow and short tunnels that felt like freezers. We felt the chill nip at our bodies, I dug out another scarf and wrapped it around my head, heaving on my helmet – snug, warm. The freshness cleared our heads, the brightness causing our eyes to squint.

After a fortifying coffee we both squeezed into yet another jumper and squished yet more jogging bottoms under our bike pants. We could hardly breath, let alone move but stayed warm and indulged in the grand vistas.
 
The day was a balm for our tired motorbike riding souls. Grand lakes stretched out revealing their shiniest bluest. The unblemished sky was stupidly blue. The mountains shone glistening white with a speckle of black rocks, patches of green eased the starkness and softened all the edges. It was ridiculously marvellous.

I slipped off my leather gloves, held the phone firmly and shot a video. Frostbite nipped at my exposed extremities. Each time I pushed the phone back into my pocket, I was taken aback by Mother Nature showing off, and I quickly hauled it back out and stabbed the record button.
 
Click here to enjoy the ride!