Every year I just have to get away. To go somewhere on the motorcycle. Somewhere wild, where the roads are good and the scenery epic.
I usually need a reason for my trips and the reason for this one came to me over the winter of 2023. I was watching The Grand Tour: Eurocrash, in which our intrepid heroes take three ridiculous cars across Europe to Slovenia. They park next to Lake Bled, which Clarkson pronounces the prettiest place he’s ever seen.
And there and then I decided I had to visit Lake Bled.
And I would have to go on my own. Because my brother was still recovering from his crash earlier that year. Still, not to worry. I had been watching the journey of Noraly Schoenmaker, also known as Itchy Boots.
Noraly has travelled the world on her motorcycle, completely alone. I can’t think any of anyone with more bravery and spirit. If she can ride the west coast of Africa on a Honda CRF 300 Rally then I could spin down the autobahn for a week in the alps.
I planned the trip in some detail. My plan is always to decide on where each day should start and end, book a hotel, and any waypoints I wanted to make. I added all these to my Google Maps and would use my phone as a satnav. I can then plan each individual day’s route on the fly.
My bike, a 2019 Tiger 900 Rally Pro has done 20,000 miles and suits me down to the ground. I have panniers and a top box so have plenty of room for luggage. I made sure the bike was fully serviced and prepped before the trip.
Day 1 – Cheshire to Lille (France) via Le Shuttle
The day started at 7am. The bike had been packed the weekend before. One pannier contained all my clothes and things needed for each hotel stay, the other pannier contained all the motorcycle maintenance equipment as well as tools, puncture repair kit, first aid kit etc. The top box was empty except for waterproofs and a water bottle. This was intentional. It’s quite handy having a space to stow helmet and gloves when stopping at services.
I was up at 6am, ate and showered. I’d checked and rechecked the weather forecast and could see a mix of rain and heat ahead. My riding gear was armoured jeans, motorcycle boots, and a waterproof, but not particularly warm, jacket. The theory being if it rained or turned cold I could add layers as appropriate. If I was to wear heavy gear it would cause issues when the sun beat down. Heat related fatigue can be particularly dangerous on a motorcycle.
The first five hours across England’s motorway network was conducted smoothly. I arrived at Folkestone with plenty of time to catch my train…and then French customs delighted in holding us all up for an hour.
Not to worry. I had been due on the 3.30pm train but ended up on the 4.30pm train, which has half empty as customs was still holding people up for no reason.
I met a fellow traveller on the train. His plan was similar to mine but instead of staying in hotels he was camping – and his Yamaha MT07 was piled sky high with equipment. None of his luggage was in hard panniers. Instead it was all just strapped down. I admired his spirit and sense of adventure and wondered if I’d meet him again (I didn’t).
Unloaded from the train and on to the autoroute it was an hour blast to Lille and my hotel where I ate a so-so dinner, drank a couple of beers and collapsed in bed
Day 2 – Lille to Rickenback (Germany)
By 9am I was ready to go. The sky was bright and the temperature just perfect. I hit the road. This was going to be a long day. 430 miles by various Belgian and French autoroutes (top speed 130kph) and a stretch of German autobahn (top speed whatever you can stretch to).
By lunch I had covered 200 miles and was still feeling quite fresh. The Tiger does 200 miles to a tank but once it’s less than half full I start to think about a refill, so I was stopping every 120 miles or so to refuel. And at each stop the skies were getting darker.
Finally by mid afternoon the heavens opened somewhere south of Nancy. I stopped to pull on my waterproofs and carried on.
The rain was ceaseless. But I was still cheerful. I enjoyed the changes in scenery and landscape as I hit Germany. I love the place. In the rain I hit 189kph (118mph) on the autobahn. Once in the hills leading to the hotel I stopped to take a photo by a roadside shrine, a small statue of Jesus. Across all the countries of the alps these statues would crop up everywhere. Catholicism seems to cut across cultures and nationalities.
I arrived at Hotel Ammenhof at 6.50pm. I was completely drenched. I squelched to my room, showered and changed and hung up all my gear. The rain had managed to find its way around my waterproof trousers and my boots were full of water.
The hotel was a delight. Alpine in design and quite simple and rustic. None of the staff spoke English but it was fun communicating with them, and the schnitzel and ice cold Fürstenberg beer were most welcome.
I had taken my iPad on the trip and didn’t turn on a single hotel television then entire week. I watched some YouTube videos then slept like a log.
Day 3 – Rickenback to Götzens (Austria)
Today was more promising. 220 miles across the north western alps into Austria. My boots were still wet from the day before, and my jeans still a little moist, but I was ready to go. The day was damp, but not raining hard. More of a light drizzle.
The hotel was close to the border so within half an hour I was in Switzerland. The roads swept through valleys with wide expanses of pasture either side. In the pasture lands were numerous barns with overhanging roofs, designed to allow a space around the walls of the structure free from snow.
These barns lined the roads almost the entire trip. They are an ancient system of grain storage over winter. The locations seem random, and sometimes there are lots of them, sometimes not so many. But they all look quite lovely, and add to the general pleasantness of the alpine landscape.
By lunch the rain had just about gone and I stopped at a cafe in a town called Kressbronn an Bodensee on the northern shore of Lake Bodensee. Again none of the staff spoke English but we got there somehow and I enjoyed the first of many ham and cheese sandwiches of the trip.
After lunch I called in on Lindau, an island in the lake itself. By now the sun was shining and the temperature had risen to 25ºC.
The afternoon was a pleasant ride on great roads through Austria. By this point the mountains were rising higher and higher with each mile. Mile high shards of rock peppered with trees, wildlife and the occasional road twisting up and down.
I stopped to take a photo by the road sign for Wank and enjoyed the achingly beautiful landscape as I closed in on Götzens, a ski resort in the mountain south of Innsbruck.
The view from my balcony was of a spectacularly craggy mountain to the north. Dinner that night was a local dish of mixed meats along with more cold beer and the F1 highlights on my iPad.
Day 4 – Götzens to Bled (Slovenia)
I was now in the alps proper. And for the first time I was to cross from north to south, meaning I’d cross some of the highest points.
The day’s ride was going to be around 230 miles and at some point I’d travel over the Grossglockner, a famous mountain pass. In order not to tire myself out too much I opted to take the autoroute for most of the morning, enjoying the view as I weaved through valley bottoms at 130kph.
By late morning I skirted Zell am See and then plunged south towards the Grossglockner. I’d done no research on it and when I arrived found that it was a toll road. At the entrance to the Grossglockner is a tourist village with various attractions. It was now 30ºC and took lunch at a restaurant and just as I was finished and ready to head to the toll booth the road was closed due to an accident on the mountain.
After a delay of 45 minutes in the baking sun the road was opened and I joined about a hundred other bikers in paying £33 to head onto the 45 kilometre long Grossglockner High Alpine Road.
The road immediately ascended. Higher and higher it wound, initially with sweeping bends. I saw the course of the closure – an old VW had set on fire. From the smell I could tell the brakes had overheated and started a fire which must have spread to the engine bay and then consumed the entire car.
I continued to climb and as I did the temperature dropped. Sweeping curves turned to sharp hairpins. The view was spectacular.
Higher and higher, colder and colder. I have been riding motorcycles for a long time and am quite adept in conditions like this. I’m not so fast I’m reckless but I settle into a pace and my mind sharpens so it takes no effort to push and push, until…
Until vertigo kicked in. I’ve always been afraid of heights and often on mountain passes I’ve felt nervous when close to exposed edges, but this was a different level.
My riding started to become more mechanical and when I stopped to take photos and enjoy the view I struggled to knock the side stand down and dismount for fear of falling over and down some slope – even though I was nowhere near the edge.
The human brain can act irrationally at times, and mine was really playing up.
I finally reached the summit, which is 2504 metres above sea level. Bought a fridge magnet and sticker, took a load of photos. And had a conversation with myself about the ride down.
My tactic was simply to look where I needed to go. On a motorcycle it’s easy to look at the road immediately ahead. This is called target fixation and can lead to running wide on bends. But I also didn’t want to look outside the confines of the road and the huge drop to the side. So instead I focused on the vanishing point of the road ahead.
At one point I stopped to touch a glacier with my bare hands. Large swathes of ice abound around the place, kept frozen by their sheer mass through the summer months.
Down I went and the further down the higher the temperature. It had been 16ºC on the summit and 30ºC again as I reached slightly lower levels.
It was 3pm when I stopped for a cup of tea served by a grumpy Austrian lady.
The rest of the afternoon consisted of a pleasant ride through green lands until at 5.30pm I arrived in Slovenia. By 6pm I was at my hotel. I was a sweaty mess. It was 33ºC by now and the hotel was in town and surrounded by endless roadworks.
I showered and was chased around the bathroom by a wasp for a few minutes.
I walked down to Lake Bled and it is indeed one of the most beautiful places in the world. I enjoyed a meal and a few cold beers on a terrace overlooking the lake. Afterwards I walked around the local area and enjoyed an ice cream whilst watching a spectacular sunset over the lake before heading back to my hotel to reflect on the day.
By Matt Hubbard
To be continued…
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