July 16, 2023
Day 1 - Yverdon-les-Bains to Bienne/Biel
Possibly it’s just a coincidence but Switzerland ‘s heatwave seems to have broken today…just as we decide it’s time to leave the apartment to reclaim bikes and get our tour under way. There’s a great clap of thunder overhead so we find rain jackets, load ourselves up with panniers and assorted paraphernalia and take the metro downhill (did I mention Lausanne is hilly? ) to Hood Cycles. From there, it’s a short walk to Lausanne’s train station where we book ourselves and bikes onto a regional train to Yverdon-les-Bains
And at last, we are on our bikes. We’ve ridden this route before, though from the opposite direction. The eastern side of Lake Neuchatel doesn’t offer particularly scenic vistas, the lake itself mostly hiding behind woodland. And on a grey day, glimpses of the lake are hardly stirring. The route is undemanding however, mostly on shared pathways and with a few undulations to overcome.
The shared nature of one particular stretch of pathway becomes evident when an enormous combine harvester comes up behind us, clearing the way ahead by encouraging cyclists to try out the grass verge. We’d decided beforehand that we could navigate this route relying on Swiss Mobility’s excellent signage. There is a detour however, when a turn-off is missed, adding a few unwelcome kilometres to the day.
Lunchtime rolls up along with a heavy shower of rain. By now, we’re bedraggled , muddy and wet, with our perfectly dry jackets still in pouches around our waists (I hate wearing rain gear. Too hot, too sweaty.) So we pull up outside a busy restaurant and seek shelter. The wait staff are bemused, to say the least. There’s a vigorous conversation between two of them involving much hilarity. I can’t think why, though to be fair, the rest of today’s clientele appear to be neither mud-spattered nor oddly dressed in shorts, padded pants and tee shirts in primary colours. By this time, we’ve been sent laughingly to a distant table; when the server comes over soon after to take our order, she’s practically weeping tears of French hilarity.
Having sufficiently entertained the wait staff, we’re keen to continue when the rain storm passes over. After negotiating some tricky terrain, we zoom up the side of Lake Bienne and into the town with the double-barrelled name, Biel/Bienne, very late in the afternoon. There’s still a long train ride ahead of us to reach Basel and our hotel bed.
Now, it seems there are two ways of booking tickets for cyclists on Swiss trains. You can just go to the SBB ticket office in the central concourse, take a queue ticket and wait your turn to speak to a human, thus committing yourself to losing up to an hour of your remaining life, to make the necessary bookings.
Or you could do it our way. But don’t. Please don’t.
We reach the station and wheel our bikes up the ramp to the nearest ticket machine. Smugly, we buy tickets for ourselves AND our bikes, choose the soonest and fastest option to Basel – an InterCity express - and push our way to the platform. In moments, the very long and sleek train pulls in. We’ve spotted three bike carriages but will have time only to board one, looking for empty bike spaces, before the train departs. We commit to carriage 1 where there’s one vacant wall hangar. Oh well. Ignoring those helpful passengers who want to share their knowledge of bike rules on Swiss trains with us, we hang up Bruce’s bike, lean mine against the wall and pray not to see a ticket inspector on this leg of the trip.
The next stop, however, brings a young man and his bike. He has not only a bike ticket but a bike reservation as well. That would be the hanger currently occupied by Bruce’s bike. Who knew?? Well, we did. We’ve travelled on Swiss trains before and should have known better. Young man is very understanding of these obviously elderly and confused bike tourists and is happy to lean his shiny racing machine alongside my grimy one while talking bike stuff with Bruce.
We need to make a change to get to Basel. My prayers have been answered – no ticket inspector. We leave the InterCity express and find a lovely slow, reservation-free service to Basel. For possibly the only time today, we can sit and relax until the train pulls in.
Lesson learned, our first stop is the ticket office in Basel’s main concourse. I take a queue ticket, sit and wait patiently until summonsed to a counter. There, we continue to wait patiently while the efficient young woman books tickets AND reservations for tomorrow’s jaunt into Germany. It takes less than an hour.
It’s nearly 9pm now and we have a 30 minute ride to our hotel. Bruce navigates us through alarming city roads to the Rhine path which we follow until – at last – we arrive. The hotel’s reception is smack in the middle of its busy dining room, which puts our bedraggled selves into an alien environment once more today.
The kitchen is closing soon so we’re encouraged to sit down NOW and eat. Nothing is too much trouble, including bringing water and multiples bottles of Coca Cola to stave off dehydration. It’s been a tough day but it ends well.
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9 months ago
Today's ride: 83 km (52 miles)
Total: 85 km (53 miles)
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