August 22, 2006
Chur - Surava
We were in no hurry this morning, slept late and took our time with breakfast and packing up. I took pictures of our surroundings including some elegantly designed municipal housing, complete with symbolic waterfall. I was a little surprised to see black and brown faces around the shopping centre. This morning I was going to buy a map. We rolled back into Chur centre and found the TIC. I wanted to buy the Véloland Schweiz, Band 6, Graubünden guide. It was not to be found there, but I was directed to a book store, conveniently on the way to the railway station. Barbara bought sun-cream at a pharmacy. We found the book store with no difficulty. As well as the Route 6 guide,* I bought the Kümmerly+Frey cyclo-tourist map for all of Switzerland. This covers part of Northern Italy too; small scale but useful.
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The Véloland Schweiz website advises would-be tourists, that national cycle routes are always indicated at all appropriate railway stations. We were planning to pick up route 6 from the station. At Chur, however, the whole of the station frontage was a construction site. A lot of stuff had been dug up, including our sought-after signs. By studying a combination of the TIC city plan and our newly acquired guide, we managed to pick our way out of town and onto the true path. The way out of Chur was a combination of suburban street and industrial estate, then a tarmac path by the railway line. We were on our way again.
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At Domat-Ems I lost the route and we found ouselves back on the road. The road took us across the river to Reichenau, where we ran into NCR2. We had no choice but to re-cross the bridge and take the quieter of the two valley roads and catch up with route 6 a few km further on. The bridge at Reichenau is just below the confluence of the Upper and Lower Rhine. We were to follow the Lower. We climbed up to Bonaduz, continued through Rhäzüns after which, for a few km, was an enjoyable switchback ride on an excellent surface down to the level crossing across the Rhätische Bahn and into the village of Rothenstein. I greeted another cyclo-tourist who had evidently taken the correct route from Chur. After the village we were back off-road, on a reasonably flat track in the valley as far as Thüsis. We climbed up to the main street and found the supermarket, bought lunch and ate it in the shade of a children's playground.
Using our new guide, I phoned the Gasthaus Post in Surava, about 18km ahead and reserved a room. We set off, now in an easterly direction, towards Tiefencastel, then Surava. The road tunnel on the edge of Thüsis is prohibited to cyclists and so, after having a look to make sure, we followed the cycle path across the Hinterrhein upwards through Sils,with a stiff climb beyond to the junction with the Tiefencastel road at the other end of the tunnel. This was our introduction to the mountain roads. The legend in the Route 6 guide marks this next stretch as 'a dangerous road with heavy traffic'. This is a health and safety exaggeration. It's a fast mountain road, with not much in the way of a shoulder, but not necessarily dangerous. However, there are two tunnels to be unavoidably negotiated on this route. The guide states 'Dangerous tunnels. Turn your lights on. Loading your bikes on a train recommended.' Naturally, I had omitted to mention any of this to Barbara, whose understanding of German is non-existent.
Before we reached the first of these tunnels Barbara had another flat. While I was busy unshipping the tube, another cyclo-tourist, Antonio from Bilbao, in Spain, stopped to see if we were in need of assistance. He spoke little German, so we used a mixture of his English and my inadequate Spanish to communicate. After assuring himself, that we had things under control, he continued on his way. As far as having things under control, this was only partially true. It was now that I noticed that one side-wall of Barbara's front tyre had split in two places. This explained the puncture the day before. I had been busy working, up to the day of our departure and had not thought to check over the tyres. I temporarily covered the splits with two layers of duct tape and patched the tube. We were soon at the entrance of the first tunnel, about 800metres in length. We stopped to turn on our lights. Barbara does not feel at all comfortable in tunnels. She has always felt a little edgy on the London Underground. We had no choice but to ride on through. The traffic was well behaved enough, but what neither of us had expected, was the level of confined noise generated by even a moderate amount of traffic. It was like being the starter at a truck race. Worse, it was impossible to tell whether traffic was approaching from in front, or behind. I found that unnerving too.
I waited for Barbara when we were back in daylight. 'That was horrible,' she said 'We've got another one coming up, then that's it.' I said. Barbara was about to make what would have been pointless protest, when I rode off towards the next, the Solis. This one was worse because it was longer at 1200metres. Again I waited at the tunnel end. 'No more tunnels.' said Barbara. In fact there is one more tunnel on this road, near Alvaschein, but the cycle route directs you off the main road through the village. It's a steep climb and an equally steep descent into Tiefencastel, but worth it. I phoned the hotel again from Alvaschein to explain we'd be a little later than my previously estimated 6pm. From Tiefencastel to the Engadin, is the alternative of the Julier pass, as well as our Route 6 over the Albula. We climbed gradually out of Tiefencastel and after 2km of moderate uphill were in Surava.
I checked us in and we were directed by the proprietor to park the bikes in the garage below the hotel. He helped us carry our gear upstairs and asked us where we were from etc. He spoke some English, but I struggled on in German. We went up to the room, which, as always in Switzerland was spotless and comfortable, if a little heavy on the wood carving. Barbara received a text message from our son, then in Croatia, that he had lost his mobile phone. Could we cancel it for him? Neither of us could remember the customer service number for our network. With the help of the barmaid/server and a customer in the bar, in establishing a connection, I phoned my niece near Leicester back in England and she texted us back the number we needed. I offered to buy the man who helped me, a drink. He refused on the grounds that he was up for work early the next morning. He was a roofer, [that's ein Dachdecker] a fact which took me some time to find out by means of my small dictionary. We chatted for a while, although at times I struggled to understand. In relation to our forthcoming Albula Pass adventure, he told us a story of a friend of his from the village, who set out early one morning to climb the Albula Pass returning via the Julier in time for lunch. I tried not to feel inadequate. I had another beer anyway and fetched Barbara for dinner. After dinner, exercising my German again, we chatted to the barmaid/server. I asked if people in the village spoke Romansch. Yes, but she didn't. She was originally from near Landquart. I mentioned my bemusement at hearing Italians talking to German-speaking Swiss in English.
'No we don't speak Italian,' she said. We went to bed reasonably early; big day ahead.
Today's ride: 58 km (36 miles)
Total: 253 km (157 miles)
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