Buggered in Bienne Biel

Knackered is such a nice description for such a good feeling. One that only ever comes with being truly stuffed! And that is what I am feeling tonight. As are most of the riders. It has been a long tough day. We are in the mountains and it has rained all day. Progressively getting colder and colder. The winging Poms with us, asking why they ever left the UK where, believe it or not, the weather is fantastic.

Panto bought three bottles of sun tan cream before this trip and is wondering why. I have actually managed to get a burnt face, but it is due to windburn from riding with my visor half open to stop it from misting up. Nevertheless it has been an awesome day.

Down through the French countryside. Through the Ardennes and the scene of the Battle of Arracourt, one of the biggest and most famous tank battles of WWII. Military cemeteries and memorials everywhere, a poignant reminder of the death and destruction that took place in this part of the world a little more than 70 years ago. My father’s generation embroiled in this epic conflict.

Not to forget the war to end all wars, only 20 years before that. It is only because the politicians do not have to fight the wars themselves that they continue to engage the youth of their country in these senseless dramas.

We were discussing this over dinner last night and one of the group described his visit to the cemetery at Omaha Beach in Normandy and looking for the graves of the Ryan Brothers made famous in “Saving Private Ryan. He could not remember the name of the brothers and asked one of the curators where the brothers were buried?”. The curator asked which brothers? As there were more than 130 different sets of brothers in that particular cemetery alone!!

Nevertheless the countryside shows no signs of those conflicts and as an agricultural powerhouse France ranks only behind the US and Brazil and it shows in the magnificent farms and countryside everywhere. We have ridden through the maize lands and pastures of the Argonne and the vineyards of Alsace and then into the mountains near Colmar. Admiring the Charolais and Limosin cattle everywhere. Rarities elsewhere, here they dot the landscapes.

All of this quite sentimental in many ways for me. DB and I drove through this region on one of our first pan European car trips in my early business years. This is one of the gastronomic epi centres of the universe. Over many years of driving in Europe I have crossed this area from east to west and north to south – and no better way to do it than on a motorbike. Except for the fact that it was pouring with rain and very, very cold. Man stuff! As much as I am missing having DB wrapped around me, this is not a trip for girls. I have my hands full with Jayne in these conditions and a mistress as well as a wife is more than this man is up to.

We stopped for lunch at an unplanned restaurant shortly after the summit of the pass on the Col du Bonhomme, having missed the turn off in the mist for the team lunch stop on the summit. We hit the jackpot with a fantastic restaurant a few kilometers on. Granny and I selecting mouth watering main courses, after both having had Escargot to start. This was of course France!!

Then up through the mountains on smaller and smaller roads. At some point we crossed into Switzerland, no border marked and the first signs of change being the road markings and bus stops signs and then a Swiss flag. Granny was wondering why he had queued for hours for a visa interview and paid thousands of Rands. He felt hard done by all afternoon.

By 15h00 and after switchback after switchback, ups and downs. Roads slippery due to wet fallen leaves and cold hands we decided to take the shortest route to our end destination at Bienne Biel and a big thanks that finally my GPS seemed to be working. So a “Direct to” entry was made and an hour later, care of Swiss highways and tunnels we arrived at our hotel after nine hours in the saddle and about 425 kms.

I have been in this city before, and in most of this country, a country which I love for its efficiency and the fact that government is kept small and out of people’s lives. It really is a place where “government is by the people, for the people” and not like “for the government and the politicians” as in so many other countries. Important issues are still decided by a national referendum, which can be called by any citizen who collects more than 50,000 signature of support. The results of these referendums are binding on the state.

Amazingly enough the areas of France we have ridden through are also in pretty good shape but there is one very noticeable difference between Switzerland and France. In the small French villages there is no sign of human life. They are dead with no children to be seen and no schools. In Switzerland it is completely different with people everywhere and new schools being built.

Switzerland has an air of prosperity and growth about it, whereas in France you have the feeling that “The dead are fucking the dying!”

Tomorrow has some more trips down memory lane. Another long day, ending up in Celerina and Pontresina. Scene of our first skiing trip, the first as a family with my parents and the first with DB, when I found out to my horror that she was a much better skier than me. We managed to mess up the first T Bar we went on together and I fell off, as every gentleman should do rather than see his damsel in distress.

We will ride over the Julia and Sylvia passes, passes which Susan and I first were driven over in an old Kombi in 1966 by our then ski instructor Friedel and then, DB and I again in a hired Opel Kadett, in 1980 after fleeing from the house of friends of my parents, who had let us stay there in our early courtship. We had to flee because everything we touched broke, except the bed, which had a straw mattress. The only reason that this did not break was that the bed was so uncomfortable that we put the mattress on the floor and slept on it there.

I think of Errol Bouchier, my friend who was then flying for Swiss Air and who came down to stay with us for a few days. And of Uli Lindner, with whom I skied in these very mountains quite recently. Both now tragically gone to new flights and new ski areas in the sky.

So the real riders amongst us, such as Panto, are also really knackered and there is lots still to come. For many years now Panto has been the fastest man on the block. But on this trip there is a new group of much younger riders and they are quick, very quick! Even in these atrocious conditions. This has put him under severe pressure as he is having to play catch up.

So Panto is having to reassess how he approaches the next few days. Is it to be a slower and more measured ride with Biker Pilot and Granny, or is he going with the Young Guns?

My money is on the bad decision! We will only know in the morning. However Granny and I are doing the shorter and easier route, which at over 420 kms is still a big day. But we are getting bike fitter..

Oh and by the way, snow is forecast overnight in Celerina on Monday night, especially for us!!

So from Switzerland, on the Lake, Good night, Good Bye and Good Luck.