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Report of a motorcycle tour without a motorcycle from the point of view of a passenger who, exceptionally, sits at the wheel of a car as a chauffeur to drive the motorcycle chief and tour organizer through Switzerland.
What's wrong? Harald, the tour organizer and I, his pillion, arrive in Röthis without a motorcycle with a car and crutches. Two weeks ago, Harald fell off the motorcycle in a curve with roll split and now has a broken foot.
Röthis ??? That's not in Switzerland at all, but in Austria on the border with Switzerland - something like that ... So it's a Switzerland tour that starts in Austria. Why this? At the end of the tour it is clear to me and probably a few others why: in Austria both accommodation and meals are affordable. So avoid Switzerland for as long as possible ...
“Dear God, whatever you want to cook out there, it's done!” The tour participants who are gradually arriving also seem to be pretty exhausted when they arrive in Röthis with their mopeds on one of the hottest days of the summer. The result of this heat is thirst. Motorcyclists usually fight their thirst with beer. The beer supply in the hotel's drinks machine runs out after a short time and so do the motorcycle men. With the last of their strength, after some irritation over the definition of right and left and strange orientation difficulties due to dehydration, they drag themselves to the beer source and munching station in the village, where they escape death at the very last second through deprivation of beer and food.
Strengthened in this way, the actual start time of the tour the next morning, as always, shifts by a period that is better not specified. Motorbike men and their satnavs are permanent enemies and generally carry out their battles and acts of war with the TomToms, Garmins and BMW special navis in the parking lot after the official start time.
The only reason to give up and let the sat navs win is the rising heat, which can only be endured in the morning with the wind in your head. The navigation devices cause mischief throughout the entire tour and cause some motorcyclists to temporarily go missing, get lost or take detours. How good that a motorcycle hero who is particularly frustrated with technology has a boring map of Switzerland at hand. It's one of those foldable 2 square meter monsters made of paper with lots of colorful lines on it, which basically always has a fold right on the tour. Together with a yellow highlighter with which the map lines are thoroughly marked, the map is the rescue that leads to the desired destination in Lucerne.
An elevator, which can accommodate a maximum of four motorbikes, is designed to take the mobile pedestals from the street to a night's rest in the hotel's underground car park.
Since this procedure overextends the patience of one or the other motorcycle man, the ride in the elevator is boycotted.
The camp of various mopeds is set up on a real Swiss motorcycle parking space outside on the street. Not familiar with the Swiss motorcycle park regulations, an Allgäu park hero immediately incurred the displeasure of the Lucerne motorcycle world. His motorcycle, which is not completely inaccurately parked at the correct angle, becomes the occasion for a well-groomed Swiss outburst of anger:
Since this procedure overextends the patience of one or the other motorcycle man, the ride in the elevator is boycotted.
The camp of various mopeds is set up on a real Swiss motorcycle parking space outside on the street. Not familiar with the Swiss motorcycle park regulations, an Allgäu park hero immediately incurred the displeasure of the Lucerne motorcycle world. His motorcycle, which is not completely inaccurately parked at the correct angle, becomes the occasion for a well-groomed Swiss outburst of anger:
In order to ensure the planned city tour of Krücken-Harald without causing muscular exhaustion in this very person, I organized a motorcycle without a motor and handlebar, but with four wheels. In this way, Krücken-Harald can be pushed through Lucerne using a mobile sedan chair. The crutches are used by Harald as a pointer for sights and to drive pushers that are too slow.
The nightcap at the hotel's rooftop party, to which the motorcycle crew shows up in Birkenstock flats, shorts and printed moped driver's shirts, makes the Lucerne party world raise its eyebrows in astonishment. In any case, by undermining the dress code and increasing the average age, the bunch attracts attention. And since a real motorcycle man only feels the sound of his machine's boxer engine as music, some motorcycle party wolves leave the location in a hurry and without a nightcap.
The next morning 9 of the 12 motorcycles are somehow not there on the very first pass directly behind Lucerne ... and who is to blame? Of course - the sat navs! So the two motorcyclists, Harald and me, who are still present, have the opportunity to enjoy the view of Lucerne until the group is complete again.
We continue past mountains, lakes, cows over passes and through curves ... Haukur, as a guide, protects his colleagues in a tried-and-tested manner from trouble caused by Swiss flash boxes ...
Then there is the lunch break: while some have to be taught that the Swiss potato specialty is not called Rösti but Röööschdi, others drive away the flies from the holy lunch.
Immediately after the lunch break there is a long-feared superau for water-shy motorcycle men: rain !!! In fact, totally wet water drops come from the sky, which immediately leads to the use of the rain defense systems:
A club-known, particularly water-shy moped man named Wolfgang immediately finds 11 other whining like-minded people. From now on I will always say Wolfgang to all of them - quasi as a synonym for extremely water-shy, moaning moped men. The 11 Wolfgangs drive in the rain over high mountains to Sedrun, where you can dine at high prices in the evening.
The next morning, Goodbye Switzerland. Despite kneeling attempts by the head of all Wolfgangs to worship the weather god, the drive home gets pretty wet ...
In any case, I survived the tour dry in an air-conditioned car, but I had to continually endure driving tips from my not so chilled "passenger" alias Krücken-Harald. He would have loved to ride a motorcycle and was understandably plagued by occasional bad mood attacks in the car as a passenger.
A special word also applies to Carola: she was the only female tour participant and, as a passenger, survived the boys, the heat and the rain without complaint.
Oh yes, and because experience teaches me that hunting passports is at least as important for motorcycle men as hoarding shoes and handbags for me, here is the collection of the trophies shot in Switzerland at a glance:
Schwägal - Ibereregg - Pragelpass - Klausenpass - Vierwaldstätter See - Glaubbergpass - Sarner See - Glaubbielenpass - Schallenbergpass - Thuner See - Brienzer See - Grimselpass - Furkapass - Oberalppass - Vorderrhein - Albulapass - Flüelapass - Fernpass
This report does not claim to be complete and objective. Characters described in it come from my imagination and have nothing to do with living people. Similarities are purely coincidental.
Anja
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