August 21, 2006
Widnau - Chur
We set out into the morning sunshine and soon found the sign for the cycle path off to the right of Widnau's main street. At the junction we met a Dutch couple who were doing a Swiss camping tour, on very heavily loaded Amsterdam street bikes. Socks had been put out to dry on handlebar ends. They assured us we had miles of flat riding all the way to Chur. The path out of Widnau followed a canal, funnily enough again, giving the immediate landscape a Dutch appearance. A glance upwards to the left or right put a stop to that impression.
Away from the canal path now, near the village of Kriessern, Barbara had a rear wheel puncture. I repaired it with the un-requested help of a man from the village. Given fair weather I can patch a tube and have the tyre back on in about 20 minutes; not record-breaking, but quick enough. Having an assistant does little to improve my times. However this guy was so friendly and would-be helpful, letting him hold a tyre lever seemed the least I could do. This was my first immersion in Swiss-German too, so I struggled to understand most of what was being said to me. However his directions for following the cycle route, to the banks of the Rhine turned out to be spot on. Having patched the tube and being unable to find a cause for the puncture, I shrugged my shoulders and rode on. I should have paid more attention.
We reached the river and turned south, again along the path on top of the flood levee. On the other side was Austria. The sky threatened rain. At Buchs we turned off the path into the town centre to buy food. The bike path passed through the town's industrial area, alongside the freight yards. I took the flyover across the railway line into the town centre and stopped to wait for Barbara. No sign. I turned back and searched down a side road. A man asked if I was looking for the cycle path. 'No, I've lost my wife.' I said. 'That's serious,' he replied. This was in contrast to, when, in similar circumstances, in a village in the Languedoc, back in the early eighties, I enquired of two elderly gents, on their way to a boules tournament in the centre of their village, if they had seen an Englishwoman on a bike. 'In fact, I've lost my wife,' I told them. 'Heh, heh, heh. Come and have a drink with us, then,' they said.
In the first instance I'd missed the tunnel, which took the bike route to the railway station. This time I followed it and found Barbara on the town side of the tracks. I bought bread, cheese, tomatoes, fruit and chocolate and we headed back out of town across the river for a picnic in Liechtenstein. Unlike on Switzerland's borders with EU nations, there was no customs post. Switzerland has a customs treaty with mighty Liechtenstein, or to give it its full title, das Fürstentum Liechtenstein, that's the Princedom [or principality] of Liechtenstein. Their car license plates start with FL.
We found a bench near the bridge on the cycle path and sat down to eat. Within ten minutes the rain arrived. We took shelter in the bike path underpass and examined the extensive graffiti therein. I was puzzled as to why the Croat-Serbian war was so graphically represented. We were soon back outside and before we finished eating the sun was shining. We stuck to that side of the river, passing close by Vaduz's Rheinparkstadion, until we re-crossed the water by means of a covered bridge, before we ran out of Liechtenstein. We continued to follow the river, still, of course, on level ground for perhaps 15km. At a junction with a quiet road we were directed by the Rhine route sign to turn left, away from the river. A loose gravel path continued to follow the Rhine. We were forced upwards almost immediately, the first climb since Friedrichshafen. Barbara was indignant. 'I thought this bit was supposed to be flat.' she said.
We continued to climb up through the village of Fläsch, which is just too pretty and too Swiss. Beyond the village, now on the higher ground we rode through vineyards until we arrived in Maienfeld. I perused a map of the local vineyards on the wall of a corner house as I waited for Barbara to catch up. On the other side of the village the cycling route signs were absent and so, still without a map, we dropped back to the valley floor and took the main road to Landquart. Unlike Fläsch, Landquart, is neither pretty nor especially Swiss. I rode towards the town centre and enquired about accommodation at a slightly seedy Gasthaus, which, bizarrely, boasted an Australian restaurant adorned with yellow, beware of the kangaroos and crocodiles signs. That's a first. Barbara refused point-blank to stay there.
We took off, still on the main road, which now was busy with rush-hour traffic, towards Chur. There was more up and down on this stretch and Swiss drivers are not slow so it wasn't the most relaxing of rides. On the edge of Chur I noticed a sign advertising the Hotel Ibis, one of a French chain of hotels, which if undistinguished, provide a standard of accommodation that would meet with Barbara's wishes. The ad. also claimed it to be Switzerland's only pyramid hotel. The thought of sleeping in a pyramid appealed to me. In the centre of Chur we found a tourist map near the town hall and located the hotel. To reach it involved a ride through the centre of town and then out the other side for two km. to a newly built housing development, where the Ibis pyramid is built atop a Macdonald's restaurant. We checked in, showered and after convincing ourselves to walk back into town to sample a restaurant and the nightlife, decided we were too tired and ate at the hotel restaurant. The food was unremarkable. After a couple of beers we went to bed.
Today's ride: 93 km (58 miles)
Total: 195 km (121 miles)
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