Fussen and the Black Forest

Passing out of Italy into Austria, we climbed up above the snowline for the last time. It was also our final chance to really appreciate the surprising low down torque of the turbo diesel engine in the little VW Polo – perfect for climbing out of hairpins.

  

We had lunch on the banks of a swiftly flowing river full of melted snow and kayakers. Nearby was a modern covered bridge which we explored as it had a very interesting wood/steel composite structure.

Crossing into Germany at Fussen, we came across mad king Ludwig’s fairytale creation - Schloss Neuschwanstein. We outpaced about 10,000 Chinese tourists on our trek up to the spectacular suspension bridge above the castle which afforded a classic view.

Our destination for the night was Freising, just outside Munich. We spent a pleasant beer and bulldust evening with Matt, our West Virginian colleague from our Munich days. Next morning we stopped for fuel on the autobahn just out of Augsburg. The café there had the distinction of serving the crappiest coffee of our whole trip. The “B500” or Schwarzwaldhochstrasse between Freudenstadt and Baden-Baden is renowned as the oldest and best motorcycling road in Germany, 64 kms with 100 bends, many of them hairpins and an excellent hotmix bitumen surface. Unfortunately, vast tracts were wasted with 70 km/h speed limits. At least we were rewarded with spectacular views over the Black Forest and the sister range of the Vosges across the Rhine in France.

  

As we headed west towards home in Luxembourg, things were quieter than usual in the car as we were both aware that our little adventure was coming to an end.

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Garda to Prato allo Stelvio

After watching a couple of hundred of the Mille Miglia entries do ceremonial bog laps of the old town, we left Brescia in the early evening, crossing over to the shores of Lake Garda where we found a camping ground at Villa Garuti in Padenghe with a plain but pleasant restaurant attached. During dinner, we had a long conversation with the proprietors who were thrilled to find that we were from Australia, assuring us that it was the best country in the world in which to live, according to their relatives who lived somewhere in Melbourne.

After our usual brisk trot across the camping ground for our ablutions and our well practiced packing up routine, we had a breakfast overlooking the small port of Padenghe. It was nice to notice a couple of designs on which I had worked all those years ago. Our midmorning coffee was taken at Toscolano Maderno, looking out over the idyllic lake, feeling at peace with the world and quietly hoping that we might be taken for George Clooney-like film stars – unsurprisingly, we weren’t.

 

We wended our way up the west side of the lake along a fascinating road through an interminable series of galleries and tunnels hewn in the rock cut of the imposing cliffs which soar above the lake. Arriving in the pretty little town of Riva del Garda, it was interesting to reflect that the last time I had been here, it was under a metre of snow. An obliging butcher provided us with some tasty panini and boutique beers before we continued up into the mountains above the lake. We had our lunch on the shores of Lago di Ledro under the very watchful eyes of a half dozen ducks.

Surrounded by the majestic Brenta group of the Western Dolomites, we continued north up the Sarca valley, past the ski resort of Madonna di Campiglio, eventually dropping into the Adige valley above Bolzano.

After an unsuccessful souvenir hunt around the spa resort town of Merano, we headed up the Adige valley where we made a last, forlorn attempt to access the mythical Stelvio Pass, coming in from the north. It was well and truly chiuso/gesperrt/closed. We camped the night at Prato Allo Stelvio.

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