Interlaken (part 1)

[earthmover]

With there being eight of us, and the perception that Germany would be jam packed with football fans, we planned the trip far more than we would normally. Andy and I spent hours plotting routes on paper, and on mapsource. We suggested places to visit, places to avoid, places to stay, how long to get there, how long to get back, what to do while we were there, until we had what was described as "Plan A".
This was downloaded into my GPS on the Tuesday before we left, only for my PC to crash and lose it all! Thankfully most of the routes were still in a pending file, so I was able to rescue them, but not exactly as we had planned.
This site provided a good deal of the information, so thanks to everyone who contributed, even if you didn't know you had!
For those who want to know such things, "we" are Andy (R1), his brother Ian (GS1200), John (Suzuki 1400), Mike (R6), Colin (R1), Gary (Fazer 1000), Martin (VFR 800) and myself.

Friday 23rd June. 427 miles.
We met at Knutsford services at 4.30am, dry and cool to start. Ian had taken his tank covers off previously, and one wouldn't fasten. "It should be OK", he said. I didn't agree, and we spent a few minutes securing it properly before setting off at a steady pace, I-pod on against the boredom of motorway bashing. First stop was near Kettering for fuel, as we had agreed on around 100 miles per leg. Tank range wouldn't be a problem for Ian and I, but the others were starting to fret at 110 miles. I needed a smoke anyway. Tinted visors on against the rising sun, and on to Harwich, to join the throng of bikes heading for Assen.

An uneventful crossing saw us fed and refreshed ready for Friday evening rush-hour traffic through Holland. Every single biker that came off the ferry was breath tested by the Dutch police, though I didn’t see anyone get a positive.
A fair amount of filtering was required to keep moving, and as I was leading, I flicked the beams on and the traffic parted, most of the time. Then came my first navigational error, following the GPS instead of my head, I led us up the wrong slip road and into a ten mile detour. It was a very nice bridge though!
At around 7.00 CET we arrived at the Hotel Relais Konigsberg, on the southern side of Aachen, to be met by Herr Hagan with eight large beers!

After a couple more of these, we decided to put the bikes away before it became too difficult, then sat down to a local speciality of Monschau soup (cream of mustard? No, really!) and the best rump steak I’ve had in a long while. The usual banter around the table, the trip proper was about to start!

 

[earthmover]

Interlaken (part2)

Saturday 24th June. 356 miles.
Leaving at 9.30, we set off down the 258, onto the 399, then 266 around Simmerath and into the Natur-park, rejoining the 258 at Schlieden. Past the Nurburgring we turned onto the smaller roads, and soon came to a sign that was to become familiar. “Umleitung” is German for detour, and the sign was attached to road works barriers. Following the indicated road, I zoomed out the GPS, to find that we would be going a good distance out of our way. Stopping for a conflab, I suggested that I go and examine the closed route, as others had obviously done the same. Unfortunately, I set off back on the wrong side of the road! Fortunately I didn’t meet anything, and the road was passable, so we continued to join the 49 at the River Mosel near Pommern, just north of Cochem. Here we pulled into a small café for Brot und Wurst, and to take in the scenery for an hour.

Setting off we came to another “Umleitung”, this time because of a closed bridge, so another few miles as we rode along the Mosel to the next crossing, before joining the 61, then the M5 for an arse numbing couple of hours to Baden Baden. A change to the “planned” route saw us do a couple of laps of the town before finding the fabled B500, and riding its sweeping curves to Kniebis and fuel. Switching the GPS back to our destination retraced our track for a mile and turned down the road to Wolfach, following a river on deserted, stunning roads. Postcard villages came and went, with Wolfach winning the prize for me, but as we rode through the archway in the town centre, all hell broke loose!

Everywhere had been almost too quiet, as if it was Spain and siesta time, but now people were running into the street waving and shouting. After dismissing my first thought that we were being ambushed, I realised that Germany had just got through to the next round of the world cup! Car horns blaring, flags waving, singing, shouting, you would have thought they had won the final. To cap it all, we came to another “Umleitung”, but again were able to ride through without difficulty.
Riding into Neudstadt, I had the second navigational error. I thought I had entered the house number for the hotel, but instead had entered the street number, and Haupstrasse (High Street) is a bloody long street! After a couple of U-turns, and phone calls, we located the Hotel Neubierhausle at around 8.30. Briget, our hostess for the evening, told us that the chef had finished serving at 8.00, but if we were happy with the set menu he would rustle something up for us. We were, he did, and very good it was too!

Sunday 25th June. 243 miles
We left the hotel after a simple breakfast, and headed off into the already warm morning. Passing briefly along the southern shore of Lake Titisee, we turned off onto the 315 towards Bonndorf. There were plenty of other groups of bikes out for a Sunday run, and with roads like these, who could blame them? After a fuel stop, we turned onto the 14 and came to the border crossing into Switzerland. The customs officer asked where we were going, and if we were intending to use the motorways. He looked surprised when I said no, but I pointed to the GPS and the map on my tank, and he shrugged and waved us through.
Mindful of the stories of speed traps, I led at a rather sedate pace, keeping to the speed limits. Our first surprise was how built up the flat lands of Switzerland are. We passed through hundreds of villages, with very little by the way of open road between them. The next surprise was a place called Rhienfall.
As we turned off a roundabout, I could hear a dull roar, then see spray above some of the buildings. A little further down the road we came across this!

A car park attendant on a scooter showed us to a parking spot and we spent half an hour eating ice cream and watching the falls.
Back on the bikes we followed the river for a while, before crossing back into Germany at an unobtrusive signpost, only to cross the river on a single track bridge and back into Switzerland! Following the route of the E41, but not actually on it, we passed Winterthur, heading for Rapperswil on the shore of the Zurichsee.
Another diversion for road works confused me slightly, and we then got taught advanced filtering by a group of German “Streetfighters”. This led to us getting split up in Rapperswil, where after a couple of violent u-turns looking for stragglers, and one stubborn red light, led to me riding for ten minutes on my own wondering where everyone had gone. Mike thought I was on tail gunner, and set off across the bridge. He says both GS’s looked the same! He also can’t count.
Turning left onto the 3 we headed for Nafels. Fuelling up at a card only pump caused some amusement, then the best kebab in ages from a roadside vendor set us up for the climbs to come. We were now at the start of the 17 and ready to gain some altitude. Sadly, with it being a Sunday, so was every man and his dog!
The Klausenpass was a long stream of traffic and road works. Gave us plenty of time to enjoy the view though.

As we approached Altdorf, the clouds were starting to gather around the peaks, and mindful of last years downpour, we stopped under a closed forecourt and put our wet gear on. Turning onto 2, we had only gone a few miles to Amsteg, when a police roadblock advised us that a landslide had blocked the road, and we could go no further. One of the patrol showed us the best way round, through the tunnel on the E35, but then noted our lack of motorway stickers. He then pointed out another route that involved catching a ferry across the Vierwald-stattersee! The GPS showed the first route as 60 miles, the second as 90. Needless to say, the democratic decision was to hit the tunnel and pray.
Leaving the motorway at the first opportunity saw us riding along the shore of the lake, where girls in bikini’s were frolicking as we sweated in waterproofs! At Stans, we pulled into the main square to de-wets and cool down.

Gaz disappeared, and was found in front of a TV in a café, watching the second half of the England game. Another democratic decision saw us all pile in, drink coffee, and discuss the merits of a game that at least half of us can’t abide.
Patriotic duty fulfilled, we rode south onto the Brunigpass, before a lovely sweeping run along the north shore of Thunersee to Interlaken. This time, the GPS led us straight into the car park of the Mattenhof Hotel, which is a huge, old place which you can see was once very grand. It is now run as a “Backpacker” and there were plenty of teenage Americans doing the Europe thing. Good to look at, but unlikely to be interested in 8 old gits like us.

A quick shower and change and we met up with my cousin, Tony, in the bar for a swift one, then into town to Hooters for a meal. Tony and I caught up on a years worth of news, and plenty of beer was consumed. Back at the hotel, a live band was playing, followed by a disco. Well it would be rude not to, so in we went. I ran out of steam at around 2.00, and took to my bed. Certain of our number were adjudged to have “overstayed their welcome” as it were, and much finger wagging and testosterone talk ensued. Thankfully the situation was diffused, and nothing more came of it. The DJ’s card had been marked though.

 

[earthmover]

Interlaken (part 3)

Monday 26th June. 0 miles
Some of us were a little fragile.
Andy, Ian, Mike and I went for a walk into town for a look around after breakfast, then we joined the others lazing by the pool for the afternoon in the sunshine. Tony joined us later and we arranged the next day’s activities, Canyoning and White water rafting. He knows all the crews in the area, he has worked with most of them, and got us a good deal to do both in one day. With that all sorted, we walked over to a nearby hotel to watch the Australia v Italy game with a whole room full of Aussies. Sadly, they lost, so the expected party died. We left and wandered to a restaurant Tony knew for food, beer and the Switzerland game. They lost too, so the party atmosphere kind of died there as well! We went back to the hotel, but decided not to risk the disco, and drank in the bar instead. Not too late though, an energetic day awaited us.

Tuesday 27th June.
Canyonning.
Seven of us waited for the mini-bus, Colin & Gaz had opted out, but Tony was coming along, with a group of American school girls. They turned out to be sky-divers and base-jumpers in their early to mid twenties, who weren’t afraid of anything. I was glad, because there were some parts of the day where I needed someone to hold my hand!
It was an hour long bus ride, then a 15 minute walk (in wetsuits) through the woods to the canyon. Everything seemed pretty unremarkable, and when we stopped to fasten lifejackets and don helmets and harnesses, I wondered if it was all a little OTT. The safety talk seemed very serious, but I still couldn’t see what all the fuss was about.
“The first jump is one of the biggest,” Said Sue, one of the guides, “at about 35ft.”

Doesn’t sound much when you say it quickly, does it?
When we walked a few yards down the stream we had come to, there it was! Stand on a sloping rock ledge, you launch yourself into space, aiming for a puddle an awful long way below. I nearly soiled my shorts! Martin, who has been a commercial pilot, announced that he was scared of heights. Looking at his eyes, I knew he wasn’t lying, so I jumped before it rubbed off on me! The other guide helped Martin down to where we all were gibbering like fools, having far too much adrenaline pumping round us. The next three hours were spent in awestruck wonder at what water can do to rock, and to what psychopath did these slides, jumps and drops first? We were lowered through waterfalls, jumped off cliffs, slid down sheer faces and many other tricks that with hindsight, don’t seem very sensible! Martin faced up to his fear and was getting more daring by the minute. I was wondering how long before I used up all my luck, and got hurt!

We met up with the mini-bus on a dirt track and tucked into an alfresco meal of crusty bread, cheese, ham and lager, while some insects tucked into us. There was a fair amount of snoring on the way back to Interlaken, but when we rolled up at the base camp we were met by Col and Gaz, who were ready for the rafting. A lot of people looked at us as though we were mad, canyonning and rafting in one day is not normal, apparently.
Back into the mini bus, and out to the start of the rafting experience. Tony pointed out where the floods of last year had wiped out two road bridges, and we actually disembarked onto a stretch of tarmac which ended in a drop of ten feet to the water.

The river was very cold and fast moving, something of a contrast to last year in the Evian valley. The first section was quite tame, although a good introduction to our two first timers. We had to get out of the river and be bussed round a section which the Swiss government have designated a no-go area, owing to two kayaking deaths, rejoining about half a mile down. From here, the river swept through a series of more challenging rapids for ten minutes, before a gentle half hour meander into the lake.
As Tony’s guests, we were invited to stay back at the base camp for pizza and chips with the rafting crews, and more beer. Well, it would be rude not too!

Wednesday 28th June 147 miles
Gaz didn’t fancy the passes idea, so he stayed around the town as the rest of us set off for a loop of the Grimsel, Furka and Susten. A very splendid day’s riding! The Susten pass took my vote for No.1, despite oil or diesel on every left hander on the way down. It was old and easy to see though.

Back at the hotel, Martin and John had a date with a helicopter. After conquering his fear of heights, Martin announced that he was going to do a tandem parachute jump. Tony is an instructor, and had been pestering me to do it for years to no avail. He now had a willing victim though, and with John offering to go for moral support, the rest of us watched from the comfort of the landing field. Fair play to them both for doing it, still doesn’t do it for me!

Once Martin had recovered, we went back to the hotel to change and waited in the bar for Tony to return, as he was taking us to one of his favourite restaurants near Wengen. Riding out through some breathtaking scenery, Tony showed us some of the places he and his friends “base jump” from, including the one that put him in hospital for six months.

During the meal, some rather ominous storm clouds were gathering around the peaks, and whereas it didn’t rain on us, the roads were wet on the way back. Passing the river we had rafted down the day before, a thick, cold mist rolled across the road, giving an ethereal touch to our journey.
As it was our last night , there was talk of early starts, and plenty of sleep. First though, there was a film of our intrepid parachutists to watch, on a big screen near the Guinness tent. This is where the plan went awry! Both the instructors had wrist mounted cameras, and had filmed John and Martin as they plummeted to earth. This was hilarious, but took a while. Long enough to have a couple of pints in fact, which meant we forgot our good intentions. Just after the film finished, a hail storm started, little ones at first, but soon growing to golf ball size. This is not good, when all you have for shelter is a bar umbrella! Car alarms were going off, people were screaming, the beach volleyball court turned into an ice-rink and we all huddled together hoping the bikes were ok. As soon as it eased enough to go and check, we dodged the puddles and were relieved to find no damage done. We were near the entrance to the disco though, so it seemed safer to go in there than stay outside.

At 2.00am, I wandered back to the room, only to be woken at 3.00 by Tony ringing my mobile to tell me all the lights were on on my bike. I was halfway down the corridor before I realised I should put some clothes on, as there were no pockets to put my keys in.
Sure enough, my bike was lit up like a Christmas tree, which was impressive, as I still had the keys in my hand. Switching the ignition on, then off again doused the lights, but my battery was already too low to turn the engine over. Deciding that this problem would be best sorted in the morning, I sat on the hotel steps with Tony and one of his mates, smoking for half an hour before heading back to bed. An interesting start to my birthday!

 

[earthmover]

Interlaken (part 4)

Thursday 29th June 173 miles
After a tentative stab at the starter, just in case it had all been a dream, our first thoughts were to try bump starting it. This was a spectacular failure, as I left a trail of rubber down the road no matter what gear I selected. Our hunt for some jump leads led to a coach driver, waiting to take a group of walkers up the mountain. Ignoring the warnings about can-bus electrics, Ian and I connected our bikes batteries together, and mine burbled into life as though nothing had happened. Colin kept it on a high tickover as Ian took the leads back, and I loaded my panniers on. There was a petrol station round the corner, and one twelve miles away. I opted to go to the latter, to try and put some juice into the battery, and wait for them there. Happily, that was the end to my electrical problems. The micro-flooters no longer worked, and the fault was later traced back to the relay, but the bike started every time.
There was little trace of last nights rain on the roads, but the skies weren’t looking too promising. We followed the A8, and sure enough, the heavens opened just as we entered Luzern. Turning off into an industrial estate, the rest of the lads rode under a row of garages, whilst Martin and I parked in a warehouse loading dock. After a couple of minutes, a Swiss bloke in a Triumph t-shirt stuck his head out and asked us in for coffee. He was the manager of the place, which sold bearings and the like, and took us through to the shop front. There we sat drinking coffee and chatting, while the others watched enviously from across the road.

Once the rain stopped we set off again, following the A26, then the A5 North. Another thunderstorm drenched us, but we could see the sun just ahead! The cloud was chasing us, and it remained dry all the way to the German border at Koblenz. Once into Germany, it started raining again, so we pulled into a huge supermarket at Waldshut-Tiengen and had some lunch there.
Before setting off again, we had the dilemma of whether to put waterproofs back on again. Most of us decided not to, and we rode North on the B500 with an eye on the clouds. At the next fuel stop, it was obvious that we were going to get wet, so everyone kitted up, and I switched the GPS to “shortest route” to the hotel Waldblick. The rain fell steadily for the next hour, and I must admit to thoroughly enjoying myself, but I was in front, with no spray to worry about, and GS style wet weather ability! We left the B500 and cut across country, on totally deserted roads which we couldn’t see on the paper maps. Whether we would have been quicker staying on the B500 and turning right at Triberg, and sticking to the main roads, I don’t know. We joined the B462 near Schramberg, and continued north to Alpirsbach as the rain ceased and the sun came out again. It was just starting to get too warm when the Hotel appeared, exactly where the GPS said it was.

A slight mix up with my email meant that our booking wasn’t confirmed, but thankfully there was room for us, in what was without doubt the best hotel of the holiday. With all our wet gear spread out in the sun, we enjoyed a couple of beers on the patio before showering and changing for dinner. The hotel looked to have been recently extended, and half of us were in the extension, though all the rooms were of a high standard. It advertises as a “Biker friendly” hotel, and it was certainly that, with garage and workshop facilities, drying rooms etc. The food was very good, and the prices reasonable, but we kept the beer consumption down in view of tomorrow’s plans.


Friday 30th June 324 miles
A hearty breakfast set us up for the day, which was looking promising weather wise. The pressure washer had been brought out, so a couple of us took the chance to clean the bikes (not me though) before we left. Following the GPS led us along a river valley again, through more pretty villages, until we joined the mighty B500 for the run to Baden Baden.

Nicely warmed up, we took the motorway north again to the Nurburgring. John remembered the way and led us in, past our favourite vantage point, and into the car park. We were half an hour early for the public session, so had a wander around chatting to the other Brits that were there until the barriers opened.

We split into groups, to make sure there was always someone with the luggage. Martin, Ian and myself left the car park together, but somehow Ian got left at the barrier. Martin was setting a good pace, and I was happy to sit just behind him, realising that it was unlikely that I could go much faster. Some parts of the circuit were familiar, but an awful lot more weren’t!
A pair of headlights loomed large in my left hand mirror, and gaining, so I indicated right and eased over to that side of the track. When I looked back, the lights had gone. Quick glance in the right mirror, confirmed by a lifesaver, and there is a red Dodge Viper, right up my arse, on my right! The rules state overtaking only on the left!

“WTF is he doing?” thinks I, then realisation dawns. He is setting himself up for the left hand part of the chicane, that I have only just seen, that I am travelling too fast for, that Martin has overshot and is now sat on the kerb, blissfully unaware of the approaching GS shaped, un-guided missile.
Thankfully, while one side of my brain is concentrating on screaming “Oh dearie me!”, the other side has spotted a gap between Martins VFR and the Armco. Dumping the brakes, I clattered the kerb fairly hard, testing the suspension as the back wheel kicks up, but the plot stays upright and we coast fairly swiftly across fifty yards of grass, to rejoin the track just in front of the Viper. I wave him past, up on the pegs and trying to appear nonchalant, as if I had intended to do that all along. I tuck back in behind Martin and try to get back into a rhythm, as Ian steams up behind us. He had dropped his ticket when he was at the barrier, and had decked his right hand engine bars catching us up!

Back in the car park, a swift coffee and a smoke settled me down for another lap, and this time I remembered where the chicane was! No dramas this lap, quite smooth by my standards, and certainly good enough to finish the day off. Everyone else felt the same, so we rode out to the petrol station for some fuel and food. The Viper pulled in to refuel as we were ready to leave, so I introduced myself. He thought my little short cut was very funny, and complimented me on my skill on the grass. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that luck had played a larger part than skill!

We parked at the side of the track and watched for an hour, before returning to the Relais Konigsberg, via another couple of “Umleitung” just to keep us on our toes. We arrived just as the Germany game was about to play extra time, and our host was watching in the beer garden. It was Gabby, his wife’s birthday, and they were having a party, to which we were invited! There were eight single women as well, which Herr Hagan insisted that he had invited for us, but they mustn’t have been too impressed, as they left very early!
The meal wasn’t quite as good as previous, but we forgave the chef, as he insisted we partake of the free bar! He only let us leave at around 1.00am!

Saturday 1st July 161 miles
There were a few people looking worse for wear this morning, and most of them worked at the hotel! We had a leisurely morning, as we only had a few hours ride to Amsterdam, and bade goodbye to our hosts, promising to return next year. If only to collect Gaz’s pants!

The motorway to Amsterdam was fairly boring, and hot. By the time we reached the city, it must have been nearing mid 30’s, and the slow moving traffic made it hotter still. After a couple of wrong turns, we stopped at a café to have a drink, and find out where we were. The Hotel Tulip D’arts was our destination, but I couldn’t get it on the GPS, and Mike had lost his bearings. It turned out that we were only a couple of minutes away, so we rode the rest of the way in t-shirts. The hotel is quite a way from the centre, but has an underground, secure car park. After a shower we convened in the bar, to waste two hours watching England, before hitting the town. Martin led us into an Indian restaurant for our evening meal, then we took in the cultural highlights of the city. I was disappointed by how dirty it seemed this trip, certainly worse than last year, as if the street cleaners were on strike. By 12.00, half our group were flagging, and got a taxi back. Andy, Mike, John and I stayed on for “Just one more drink”, which is why we got back to the hotel at 5.00am.

Sunday 2nd July 294 miles
A very late start was called for, and a large breakfast! We tried to find the “Sport bar”, but road works got the better of us, and we pulled in at the next café we saw. Swiss omelette seemed apt to me, and very good it was. The sun was already cooking us, and continued to do so all the way to the ferry terminal. The ferry was half an hour late arriving, and announced that it would be an hour late landing at Harwich. As soon as mobile signals came up again, we heard of thunderstorms at home. Just what you need for a long trip home!
Happily, we avoided getting wet, but saw some evidence of it on the roads. We started to fragment as the smell of home drove some of us quicker, whilst the week caught up with others! Ian and I escorted Gaz back up the M6 toll, as by his own admission, he was dead on his feet. I peeled off at J16, to pull into my drive at 12.15, looking forward to getting up for work in a few hours time!

Time to start planning the next!
Mark

 

[BTBR]

Top marks for the write up earthmover.

BTBR

 

[Pint6x]

excellent report - can someone bring the photos to life ?

 

[themadprofessor]

Excellent write up, I am very envious.

Perhaps you could post details of the hotels you used as they all sound very useful

Chris

 

[Deleted account W]

Thanks for taking the time to write up your trip. Enjoyable read

 

[Deleted account rno]

Thanks for taking the time to share that with us

 

[forry]

Well done excellent report that must have taken a while .A couple of years ago we visited the ring one of the lads paid 280euro for a lap as passenger in the viper,you should of seen his face when he came back The vipers brakes were nearly on fire and coolant was pissing out from under the bonnet

 

[Kenny]

A bit to short a write up ( )...

.....to be honest..one of the best so far !!!

 

[earthmover]

Hotels

Perhaps you could post details of the hotels you used as they all sound very useful

Chris

www.relais-koenigberg.de On the A258 South of Aachen. We found it last year on our way to Morzine. Not too expensive, clean, good food. Not that lively, out of the way, but great if that's what you want. Garage is negotiable, but there is plenty of out of the way parking if it isn't available.

www.neubierhaeusle.de Courtesy of Lumpsucker, off this site. Just outside Titisee. Inexpensive, same as above, but no garage. Very accomodating.

www.mattenhofresort.com My cousin knows the owners, so we got a very good deal. May not be to everyones tastes, lively, can't recomend the food, we didn't eat there! Breakfast was bread & jam, and some dark liquid that was supposed to be coffee. Buy it from the bar instead, or walk to one of the many cafes and eat there. Late bars, swimming pool, pool tables, lots of young people. Music, live and recorded, so get a room on the highest floor, or earplugs!

www.hotel-waldblick.de Courtesy of Grizzly, also off this site. Fantastic hotel, 4-star easily, but not daft money (45 euros B&B) Highly recommended.

HTH
Mark