A return journey is often the resolution, the long speech in Shakespeare, the clearing of the Shire in Tolkien. In cycling, however, the road is always uphill into a headwind. The journey is always just beginning. And so it turns out….
But first, indulge me in a short nostalgic tour through Bern.
To me the money shot in Bern is the “Zytteglogge”, in the first pic above.
(Although some may argue for the “Kindlifresse” fountain.)
Past the (now) Chemie u. Biochemie institute.
The opening arch finally finished. Designed by committee (can you tell? each member could choose a particular angle on the plans) and put on hold for many years due to the possibility that the colour tile adhesive may be harmful for the environment. I never thought I would see the day when it was finished. Closure.
Onwards. I have been advised to take the signed cycle routes that take the quiet roads. I have misgivings, having lost track of them many times on the way to Bern, however, they are picturesque. Here the road goes through a farm, straight through the farmhouse.
Feeling like Hansel & Gretel, I enter the forest grim with only a bar of chocolate to leave a trail. Unfortunately the day is warm and the chocolate has liquified. Shown here, just before I squeeze the foil and inject the chocolate into my mouth in a single shot like space food.
The route IS picturesque and provides food in the form of apple trees along the way. I don’t know why Migros is full of Neu Zealand apples:
This is what the Swiss do with their extra Kohlendioxid: Ripen the tomatoes.
Unfortunately I am still only just out of Berne, having jumped from one circuitous cycle trail to another, the last of which I seem to have taken in the direction back to Berne. The situation is not helped when the road is blocked by horse & cart:
I clearly need the bike bell that Queensland police are advising, as I travel slowly along behind, not wanting to stampede the horses. However after increasingly loud, “Bonjour!”s one finally wakes and pulls over allowing me to pass.
Things swing from inconvenient to serious as dusk settles and other hotels are investigated. Single rooms A$350. Hotels on the lake are even more than the normal outrageous Swiss prices. To get off the lake you have to go uphill. I do this several times to no avail. It’s dark as I arrive in Nyon.
Here is a picture of my eventual SF240 (~A280) room. I amaze myself as I bargain the receptionist down to SF170 (~A200). Perhaps they are used to desperate foreigners. I eat a big breakfast.
I am guided into town by my Geneva host, Res, who has a Brompton folding bike and a deep-set hatred for cars.
He mentions that we may go for a ride tomorrow. Sure, no problem Res, riding with a Brompton will be a rest day. It turns out otherwise…..