A family cycling tour: Basle to Milan Road Trip

[tubbycyclist]

For the last few years our family holidays have been cycling with like minded families - heading off for a base and taking over a chateau in France. This time was going to be very different, with a lot of firsts.
A first for flying with bikes,a “ moving on” tour, visiting Switzerland and an alpine pass thrown in for good measure, with our 11 year old daughter. The Swiss web sites for cycle touring are an excellent starting point, with some helpful information. There was a lot of variation in routes, accommodation and baggage services but we decided to book our own and carry our own luggage.
We decided on flying to Basle, following the Rhine for a short while before heading south on Swiss national cycle “Route 3” and finally cycling to Milan to fly home.
The first challenge - getting the bikes there and back safely.  A search of the internet found flights with different carriers, accounts of problems and pictures of broken parts. It was with some trepidation that we clicked to travel with easyjet and ordered CTC bike bags. Packing advice from the CTC web site and forum was helpful and cardboard covered exposed and fragile parts, with a liberal use of packing tape.
At Manchester airport the journey to check in was punctuated by a struggle to get through doors that were just too narrow, so a comedy of sorts developed with various manoeuvres culminating in failure and the handling of the three bikes through doors and into lifts. We did not have to remove the front wheels for this flight, so it was a slightly larger package. Eventually we were checked in and after our bikes were swabbed and tested for explosive residue we made our way to boarding.
Basle airport was eerily empty as we put the bikes go back together, stripping cardboard and fixing derailleurs back on the hanger. The CTC plastic bike bags wrapped as small as they would go and fixed to the rear rack. A few kms into a nearby hotel just over the French border and we could say that we had arrived in country number one of the four we would stay in over the next couple of weeks.

Next morning was not much different than our usual holidays with breakfast at a boulangerie, whilst sitting near a fountain in a small square. The notable difference was the tourer looking ready for business with luggage loaded. We crossed the border into Switzerland, switching from French to German signs. 10km later and we arrived in the centre of Basle, finding a park, with our daughter playing on the climbing frames. We were excited by red squirrels running through the park, while locals looked on indifferently as I tried to photograph them.  A great start and Basle was an interesting city with buildings stacked either side of a fiercely running Rhine, with trams and plenty of bikes making the city centre virtually empty of cars. The sun was shining, the views were good and the winds were kind. An excellent start to the adventure.

Down to the Rhine and traffic free cycle paths along the river. Small chain ferries were crossing the river and we thought we spotted swimmers in the river. We discovered that locals walk upstream for a couple of kms, strip off and put all their clothes into drybags before jumping in and being whisked downstream at a ferocious rate. As a family prepared at one point I saw a young child with water wings being attached by a leash to an unconcerned parent before the family set off together, a few hundred metres covered in a matter of a couple of minutes. We wandered down to the river and paddled  - it was clear and warm but the current meant no swimming for us at this point in the river.
We soon passed through Basle, and had decided on a visit to August Raurica, which promised Roman remains. Unfortunately excessive restoration left the site feeling a little sterile and unrewarding, although the pizza and ice cream in a local restaurant were terrific.
We descended back to the river, and the path soon took us into farmland. A field full of storks were hunting for food on a freshly mown field offered an interruption in the afternoon sunshine as they worked their way along the furrows.

We continued alongside the Rhine on a mixture of quiet roads and wooded gravel tracks as we made our way to Bad Sackingen and a hotel with a pool. Despite 60km of cycling we hit the pool and unwound before crashing out - so far so good!
Bad Sackingen to Brugg
This was always going to be a more challenging day. I had explained the route using multiples of the local Cragg Vale climb to describe how much ascent there was in a day. This was a day when it was a 3x CV day, so around 800 metres of climbing in 50km.
Leaving the Rhine the route wandered up a side valley on a cycle path alongside the railway with a barely noticeable gradient. Another park, where the swings were made by the oddly named bimbo company.
On a Sunday not much was open in the small towns and a very expensive bakery provided tasty and dainty food for a picnic.
Soon after the climbing started to become more serious as we crossed the Jura, and with it more typically Alpine scenery. Chocolate box houses and barns dotted the pasture and forests, with the  sound of cowbells.
Soon the GPS track indicating the route left the road and we were on what was an old roman cart track, spinning up some steeper inclines than anticipated but accompanied by the vestiges of WWII defences and small waterfalls. The wooded tracks provided some welcome shade from the increasing heat of the day, and we were able to paddle in some of the streams.

Soon the climb topped out over the Bozberg Pass (600m), with the Aare valley below. A fast downhill run saw us crossing the river before staying at the Youth Hostel. The youth hostel sat on a promontory near the Aare and was a grand affair - with sections of it dating back 900 years. A breakfast of cereal, jams, breads, cheese and cold meat set us up for the day and we left in bright sunshine alongside a traffic free path that headed alongside the river. The signposting for the route was faultless, with the numbers and routes clearly labelled at almost every junction.

Day 3 Brugg to Lucerne
The route turned southwards today, heading along the Aare before hitting the shores of a couple of less well known Swiss lakes.
Large fish were visible in the river near the large hydro electric dams that dominate so many of the rivers in this part of Europe.
Another notable feature was the decorated barns in the area. The birth of children was celebrated by nailing wooden decorations with a name and birth date to the barn, ending up with something like this:


Passing Wildegg castle the route strayed into residential areas to keep off the busy main roads, but soon emerged into more countryside and Lake Halliwill became visible. The afternoon sun was strong and temperatures climbed. The first hints of rebellion came with a demand for ice cream and swimming and I promised we would find somewhere by the lake. Along the riverside track it became clear that only the local house owners had access to the lake and I began to panic. Zooming in and out on the GPS showed a road leading to a village by the shore and we went onwards with my fingers crossed.
Fortunately the village road stopped at a Lakeside picnic area complete with a diving platform, showers, changing facilities and ice cream. The lake was warm, and so clear that we could see fish swimming around us.  We were joined by around 20 members of the Swiss Police Cadet school who pulled up and began putting on some wetsuits for a training programme.
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Rested and promises delivered we pushed on to Lucerne, passing another lake and then picking up a riverside cycle path to arrive in Lucerne. At which point the GPS crashed and would not be resurrected despite only being a few hundred metres from the backpackers hostel. A search of the lakeside found it, and I began fretting over how much extra time would be added to each day in map reading, despite the excellent signage. With the Swiss exchange rate replacing the GPS in Switzerland would be expensive. Fortunately, my daughter’s tablet hooked up to the free wifi in the hostel and an obscure forum post revealed an unofficial way of resetting the Dakota 20 by holding down the top left corner as you switch it on. Bingo - navigation restored.
The next day was a rest day and we wondered around Lucerne taking in the sights and sounds of a busy tourist centre, which was in stark contrast to the empty roads of the last few days. As the late afternoon wore on I skipped out for a couple of hours to find a climb, not a problem in that area. As I toiled up the climb away from Lucerne I realized the enormity of the task we had set ourselves, 800m of ascent later I turned for home and pondered the Gotthard Pass that was looming larger and larger in my mind. Was it fair to inflict my ambition on my partner and daughter?
A quick discussion back at the hostel and we agreed to get the ferry halfway down the lake the following day. This would make for a short 30km day before beginning the climb of the Gotthard the following day.
Lucerne to Fluelen
The day began with catching a paddle steamer at 9am and soon we were in the middle of the lake, looking in wonder at the greeny-blue water and the size of the mountains towards the south  of Lake Lucerne. The journey was well worth the fare - around £20 for an adult for the 1 ½ hour trip criss crossing the lake, with the immaculate engine driving the paddle wheel. We left the ferry halfway along the lake and rode along the lakeshore to Brunnen, where more ice cream awaited.

Signs in the cycle route livery warned of a busy road ahead, but pavement and cycle track saw the rest of the kms completed by early afternoon with no problems. Although riding through long tunnels alongside the pavement with the roar of lorries was intimidating on one or two occasions. The compensation for the busy road was a lot of routing around tunnels onto paths cut into the rocks that stood high above the lake.
We dropped down to a pier to eat cake and watch windsurfers deal with what must have been challenging but fantastic conditions for their sport. High on the hillsides opposite we could pick out isolated buildings with no obvious signs of how the inhabitants could access them.



An early finish meant we could deliver some entertainment for our daughter and the openstreetmap of Switzerland found what was described as a swimming pool near our hotel. In fact it was a cafe by the lakeside and so we got changed and entered what seemed like much colder waters. Refreshed we checked into our hotel and discovered that we had booked a rather odd 1970s throwback. The menu and signs outside proudly proclaimed it did chicken in a basket, with no hint of irony. The rooms matched the menu with wood cladding that had echoes of 70s motels.
Fluelen to Hospental
This was the decisive day - 45km ahead with nearly all of it uphill. We set off and soon left the hustle of bustle of the lakeside and began climbing slowly. Frequent stops and emerging views dominated the first couple of hours but there was no indication yet of what was to come. Suddenly the cycle path joined the road and within a kilometre we were on the climb, joined by a procession of bikes, motorbikes, sports cars and other traffic that seemed to come in fits and starts. The pace slowed but we made steady progress, stopping by a church for lunch. Then it dawned me that we were riding the pass on a bank holiday weekend, and presumably the traffic was heavier than usual.

Onwards and upwards the road climbed and we soon began twisting around some of the hairpins that typify Alpine climbs. We stopped at a hotel in a village for an ice cream as we sizzled and burnt climbing in the hottest part of the day, the local pharmacy had flashed 35 degrees as we passed it. I had promised my daughter any ice cream off the menu as a blatant attempt at bribery. The waitress brought out a huge sundae, which despite my daughter’s best efforts, eventually defeated her.
Leaving the shade of the terrace we set off again and neared Goschenon, the location of the Devils Bridge. We had been climbing virtually all day and it was no surprise that there was a justified cry of “I can’t do it”. Checking the map revealed that we were only 1km from a station which offered some respite. We rode to the station and, whilst trying to work out the ticket machine we heard the train roll in. Waved on by the guard we loaded bikes and luggage and the train crawled up some fierce inclines for 6km (and 300m of ascent) to arrive at Andermatt. Fortunately this sits on a high plateau and the ski resort had a few eateries that enable us to stock up before the last few kms to the hostel at Hospental. After climbing around 800 metres in 40km today we had a meal of never ending portions of schnitzel, potatoes and chocolate pudding before hitting the sack early. Over tea, we examined postbus timetables, which revealed that they took bikes but had to have prior reservations, and we were left with no option but to ride. We were all concerned about the 600m of ascent remaining, and tomorrow was a high mileage day as well, albeit with a lot of descending. One positive was that the temperature at 1500m was noticeable cooler than down in the valley, and certainly climbing in the heat of the afternoon had left us all feeling drained.
Hospental to Bellinzona
The final climb up to the top of the pass saw us starting strongly and the apparently never ending climb snaked on up the mountainside with no indication of the summit. Finally we hit a point where the old road leaves the newer, and much busier road and we hit the cobbles.
4km of climbing on close set cobbles, with some steep 10% sections saw us hit the top of the pass. A couple of walkers cheered my daughter as she punched the air with pleasure (or was that relief) as we crested the top, saw the signs, lakes, museums and gift shop that dominate the top of the pass.

Motorists poured out of air conditioned cars and stood by the signs. My daughter piped up “why would you take a photo when you have only driven up here?” My indoctrination programme has  clearly worked.

Lunch at the restaurant and we discussed the merits of the old vs new road for the descent. The quiet 14km descent on cobbles won the day and we set off, a benign few hundred of metres of descent was met with some sudden braking as the view of multiple hairpins falling down the mountainside opened up. No barriers, cobbles, a lot of luggage and braking were a clear recipe for overheating rims and a sudden puncture. I had explained this problem to my partner and daughter. Despite my warning the only one to fall victim was me as the mix of hairpins, packed panniers and cobbles saw me get the first puncture of the holiday.

We say many more cyclists coming up from this side even though it is a much steeper climb from the South. A couple of German cyclists explained that a lot of people got the train ran to Airolo in the morning, leaving a tough but quiet 21 km climb to the summit before a descent allowed train connections back to the start.
The other noticeable changes were the arrival of the Favinio, a local name for the Foehn wind, and the accompanying change in climate and plant life to a more typically Mediterranean appearance. There was also a sudden transition from the German speaking cantons to the Italian Ticino. The cycle route signs for North South suddenly switched to Italian as we descended down the Leventina valley, passing through small towns displaying architecture more typical of Italy. A stop for ice cream (a constant theme throughout our journey) and we were making a switch to asking for “tre gelati” but paying in Swiss francs.
We arrived in Bellinzona where a GPS routing disaster saw us climb up some 18% roads to get to the hostel that we soon discovered was sat in the valley below us. I tried to blame the Garmin but the extra climbing had not gone down well. A potential problem with our tour was highlighted here. The hostel was fantastic and the town was stunning (a UNESCO world heritage site). We all wanted to stay and explore but our accommodation arrangements meant moving on the next day. A difficult balance to strike and one to work on.

The final day of touring saw a mix of riding, train and ferry to take us on to Lake Maggiore where a week of lakeside lounging and water parks was the reward for the ride.
At the end of this week a couple of short days saw us reach Milan Malpensa airport. A cycle path along the Ticino river provided more opportunities for swimming and allowed us to get to the airport without the hassle of busy airport approach roads. This time we had flights with Jet2. No problems with booking on, although they were strict about deflating tyres. This time the security inspection consisted of being waved through instead of “CSI” forensic testing. In Manchester we were found by a baggage handler who explained they had treated our bikes with care before passing them over. Inspection revealed no damage so both journeys had passed off without problems.

Things we learned up along the way:

• The postbus could provide a great way to link routes where there are no trains, and run in many areas. A good way to save the legs if you need to - reservations are needed on some routes but others are “hail and ride”. There are good “apps” for the postbus, Swiss and Italian trains on the web that can help if bail out options are required.
• Knock 10-20% off the planned daily distance for the unscheduled stuff like swimming, playing and ice cream.
• The CTC bags worked fine but spending time removing hangers, mudguard stays etc and packing with cardboard makes damage less likely.
• Pre-booked accommodation means planning activities, excursions and rests a necessity so some advance time with Google helps.

The final score:ice cream - a lot; waterproofs - none; punctures - two; photos - loads; overcooking the route - an alpine pass with an 11 year old may be a stretch but overall enjoyment - a lot.

[hatler]

Fabulous !  Well done all of you, but especially your 11 year old. Chapeau.

[Pedaldog.]

Lovely read, thanks for sharing

[Peter]

I really enjoyed that, K!  Bad Sackingen - unfair dismissal or lumpy matress?!

Peter