Ride report

Four Bikes, One Tunnel, and the Greatest Roads in the Alps

A 2,000-mile ride report — June 2026

There's a particular kind of quiet that settles over a group of riders the night before a big tour. The bikes are loaded. The route is plotted. And somewhere in the back of everyone's mind is the same thought: please let the weather hold over the passes.

This was the Grand Tour — Aliyah, Naveeda, Toby and me, four motorcycles pointed at the heart of the Alps with a simple mission. Catch the great mountain passes. Eat well. Come home with stories. Here's how it went.

Before the storytelling, the planning groundwork: our reference pieces on what to pack for a European motorbike tour, the French autoroute toll system, current fuel prices by country, and keeping the bike from being stolen on tour cover the boring-but-essential bits this report skips over.

Day 1 — Under the Channel

We rolled into the Folkestone terminal early, helmets steaming in the morning cool, and met Toby at the check-in. There's no romance to Le Shuttle — you ride your bike into a metal box, the doors close, and thirty-five minutes later you're in another country. But there's something undeniably good about watching England disappear into a tunnel mouth and emerging into the wide, flat farmland of northern France.

We pushed on to Le Clos de Mutigny, a quiet spot near La Chaussée-sur-Marne with private parking for the bikes, dropped the panniers, and went hunting for dinner and the first proper bottle of wine of the trip. The Alps were still a long way south. That was tomorrow's problem.

Le Clos de Mutigny seen from the front: a cream-painted bourgeois residence with Hôtel Restaurant lettering above the windows, set behind a hedge and railings under a grey sky — Le Clos de Mutigny

Four motorbikes parked for the night at Le Clos de Mutigny — three under silver-and-black covers and a red Ducati Multistrada uncovered, tall trees and an ornate lamp post in the background — Bikes parked for the night

If you're following this route south, Le Clos de Mutigny is worth a booking (also on Booking.com; reviews on Tripadvisor). A quiet hotel-restaurant in a wooded park near the Marne — beautiful food, an honest wine list, and bike-friendly hosts.

Day 2 — The Long Run South

This was the grind day, and every good Alpine tour has one. We'd planned to do it the romantic way — cross- country, off the tolls, watching France unspool one departmental road at a time. Beautiful for the first few hours. Then we looked at the clock at 3pm, looked at the map, and realised we still had 200 km to go to get to Fiesch.

So the autoroute got its turn. A few fuel and food stops, the land started to fold without us noticing, and we crossed into Switzerland in the long evening light. The final climb up to the chalet had us negotiating a handful of tight switchbacks — a little tricky on tired arms after a long day, but good practice for the passes still to come. We rolled up at 8pm — later than we'd have liked, but luckily the Fiesch Coop stays open late on Saturdays. Milk, beer, breakfast essentials. Bikes parked up on the flat slabs at the chalet, out of the way and secure. Boots off. From the balcony you could see the mountains we'd come all this way to ride. Worth every motorway mile, even the late ones.

Two motorbikes parked at Chalet Arnica in Fiesch — a blue BMW GS adventure and a red Ducati Multistrada, snowcapped Alpine peaks rising behind them under a bright blue sky — Bikes parked at the chalet, Fiesch

View from the Chalet Arnica balcony across Fiesch — neighbouring chalets in the foreground, a forested green peak rising in the middle distance, and snowcapped Alpine summits to the right under a clear blue sky — The view from the chalet balcony

If you're planning a chalet base in the Valais, Chalet Arnica is a great place (book on Booking.com; reviews on Tripadvisor). A three-bedroom self-catering chalet on a quiet side street in Fiesch, with a balcony looking out across the Upper Valais Alps, a garden behind the house, and free private parking for the bikes. Ten minutes' walk to the Fiesch cable car for the Aletsch glacier day.

Day 3 — Feet Up

Smart touring isn't all throttle. We took a day to do precisely nothing — feet up on the chalet balcony, a wander down to the local Coop to stock the kitchen, and an ice cream in the sun because why not. The small administrative joys of doing nothing in particular in a beautiful place. The legs were rested. The bikes were checked. Tomorrow we'd earn the trip.

Day 4 — The Holy Trinity: Furka, Susten, Grimsel

If you ride motorcycles, you already know these names.

We strung together three of the most famous passes in Europe in a single, perfect loop. Furka came first — the showpiece at 2,429 metres, all hairpins and exposure and that giddy sense of riding along the spine of the world. (Yes, that Furka — the one James Bond raced through in Goldfinger. It hasn't lost any of its drama.) Then Susten, more flowing than its neighbours, fast and rhythmic, the kind of road where you stop thinking and just ride.

And then Grimsel to close the loop — 2,106 metres of glassy tarmac threading past glacial lakes the colour of turquoise glass, with pullouts every few corners practically begging you to stop and stare. Four bikes, endless switchbacks, brakes warm and grins wide. This was the day the whole trip had been built around, and it delivered every bit of it.

The historic Hotel Belvédère on the Furka Pass — a tall yellow-and-cream hotel building perched on a hairpin bend, snow-capped Alpine peaks rising behind under a moody grey sky, motorbikes and cars parked in the foreground — Hotel Belvédère, Furka Pass

Looking down the Furka Pass road as it snakes through a green Alpine valley between two rocky ridges, patches of snow on the upper slopes and clouds drifting across a bright blue sky — The Furka Pass road dropping into the valley

Day 5 — Cable Car to the Glacier

A day off the bikes. We took the cable car up from Fiesch to look out over the glacier — that vast, ancient river of ice that fills the valley above the Aletsch region, one of the great sights of the Alps. There's something humbling about trading the noise of four engines for the silence up there, the air thin and clean, the ice stretching off further than you can quite take in. Worth every franc of the gondola ticket.

The Aletsch Glacier seen from a rocky viewpoint above Fiesch — a vast curving river of grey-white ice running through a deep valley between dark Alpine ridges, snow-capped peaks at the head of the glacier under a moody grey sky — Aletsch Glacier from the Fiesch viewpoint

A rider posing in the red shield-shaped 'Grand Tour of Switzerland' photo frame at the Aletsch viewpoint, with the glacier and dark Alpine peaks framed behind under an overcast sky — Grand Tour of Switzerland marker, Aletsch viewpoint

Day 6 — Italy via Nufenen and Simplon

Back up high for the Nufenenpass, the highest paved pass that sits entirely within Switzerland, and one of the quieter greats — wild, windswept and gloriously empty compared to its famous neighbours.

Then we tipped over into Italy and chased the day through Airolo, down to Ascona and Cannobio on the shores of Lago Maggiore. Lunch was one of many lakeside restaurants — proper Italian food in the sun, the lake glinting behind the table. When we walked back to the bikes the afternoon heat had done its trick: mine had sunk a few inches further into the tarmac. Helmets back on. Time to chase some cooler air in the mountains.

Inland onto a stretch of properly twisty Italian back-roads — the kind where you stop counting corners and just settle in. One of us put a bike down on one of them. Small mercies: a scratch and a snapped clutch lever, still rideable, no one hurt.

We'd planned to push up the Formazza valley to the waterfall, but the day was getting away from us. We struck the waterfall off the list, pointed the bikes back over the Simplon Pass to the chalet, and called it a well-earned rest. The waterfall would have to wait for tomorrow.

Lakeside promenade on Lago Maggiore — a row of flags including the Belgian tricolour, the lake and forested mountainsides to the left, Italian buildings to the right under a bright blue sky — Lakeside promenade, Lago Maggiore

Day 7 — Back Up Nufenen for the Strudel

Day 7 was the "if it was good, ride it again" principle. Two options on the table: chase down the waterfall in the Formazza valley, or run the Nufenenpass a second time. The waterfall route had been pretty enough the day before, but it's one of the lower passes — busy with trucks and patches of roadworks — and the Nufenen had been the quieter, cleaner ride. Two of us voted to head back up. Quick spin to the top, coffee and apple strudel at the col, the long views down into Italy laid out below. The other two had earned a slower day at the chalet.

Panoramic view from the top of the Nufenenpass — green Alpine slopes dropping into a deep valley with the pass road visible in the lower right, a long horizon of snow-capped peaks across the middle distance, bright blue sky with scattered clouds and a patch of snow in the foreground — The view from the top of Nufenenpass

Day 8 — Loaded onto the Lötschberg

Heading north, we did the thing every rider should do at least once: loaded the bikes onto the car-transporter train at Goppenstein and let the Lötschberg tunnel do the climbing for us. You ride on, kill the engine, and the mountain you'd otherwise spend an hour crossing slides by in the dark.

Out the other side we ran through Interlaken and over toward the German border, finishing the day at Laufenburg — a small town that straddles the Rhine right on the German-Swiss border. Dinner was a proper hearty schnitzel and a mountain of chips. Earned. Home felt closer now, but there was still good riding between us and the Channel.

Motorbikes lined up inside the Lötschberg car-transporter train carriage — a blue, white and red BMW GS in the foreground with its helmet resting on the seat, more bikes lined up behind, a rider standing near the front of the carriage and metal anchor points in the floor — Bikes loaded on the Lötschberg car train

A row of motorbikes parked at the kerb in front of the Interlaken welcome sign and Swiss flags, a leafless tree in the middle of the green, and the forested Bernese peaks rising behind under a bright blue sky — Arrival in Interlaken

The old town of Laufenburg seen from across the Rhine — tightly packed cream, terracotta and yellow houses clustered along a steep riverbank above the curving green river, green hills rolling away in the distance under a moody grey sky — Laufenburg on the Rhine

A hearty plate of breaded schnitzel topped with a creamy sauce and parsley, a generous mountain of golden chips alongside, garnished with an orange slice and curly lettuce, a glass of Swiss beer in the background — Hearty dinner: schnitzel and chips at Laufenburg

If you're stopping in Laufenburg, Alte Post — Hotel Am Rhein-Ufer is right on the river (book on Booking.com; reviews on Tripadvisor). A small three-star hotel on the German side of the river — and one we'd happily go back to. Friendly staff, secure parking tucked down at the bottom of the hill below the old town, an adjoining restaurant that turned out the schnitzel that earned its place in this report, and rooms looking across to the Swiss old town opposite.

Day 9 — Cuckoo Clocks and the Black Forest

The Black Forest doesn't have the altitude of the Alps, but it has the corners. We threaded the Schwarzwaldhochstraße — the high road through the pines — and stopped in Triberg at the famous House of Clocks, home to some of the largest cuckoo clocks in the world. It's gloriously, unashamedly kitsch, and exactly the sort of thing you should stop for on a long ride home. We ended the day in the spa town of Baden-Baden.

The 'Haus der 1000 Uhren / House of 1000 Clocks' in Triberg — a Black Forest chalet-style building with a giant green clock face mounted on the front and a tall pitched roof, a colourful umbrella over a picnic area in front, dark pine forest rising behind under a bright blue sky — House of 1000 Clocks, Triberg

If you're stopping near Baden-Baden, Hotel Rebstock in nearby Neuweier is a great find (book on Booking.com; reviews on Tripadvisor). A family-run four-star tucked in the vineyards above the spa town — air-conditioned rooms (very welcome in the summer heat), a well-stocked bar with a proper selection of beers, and a menu that delivers.

Day 10 — Into the Ardennes

A long day west brought us into Belgium and the Ardennes — green, rolling, forested country with a castle around every other bend, and roads good enough to be worth the slog. The catch: a lot of hydration stops in the heat and a couple of detours that turned a long day into a properly exhausting one. We stopped above Bouillon for the viewpoint over the medieval fortress crouched on its hairpin in the river, then pushed on, glad to roll into Vresse-sur-Semois for the night. Dinner was at Au Roy de la Bière. Earned. The Alps were behind us, but the riding stayed honest right to the end.

Four motorbikes lined up single-file at a quiet roadside pitstop on the long ride west — riders milling around, a small rest area with a green bin, country road and rolling green forested hills under a clear blue sky — Roadside pitstop on the long ride west

Day 11 — Ghent

A shorter hop north to Ghent, one of those Belgian cities that quietly out-charms its more famous neighbours — canals, guild houses, and the kind of beer that makes you grateful you're not riding any further that day.

The hotel had great secure private parking for €19 — all four bikes tucked into one underground bay, covers on. Plenty of other riders had taken the free option, parked up on the street out front. (A pleasant trip-wide discovery: most hotels along the way charged us a single parking spot for all four bikes squeezed together. Worth asking when you book.)

Four motorbikes parked together in a single bay (number 108) of an underground car park in Ghent, all covered with silver Oxford Aquatex motorbike covers, ordinary cars parked in the bays either side — Four bikes, one bay — Ghent

If you're looking for a base in Ghent, Adagio Access Gent Centrum Dampoort is a good shout (book on Booking.com; reviews on Tripadvisor). A modern aparthotel a short walk from the centre — studios with their own kitchen, the secure underground parking pictured above, and a bar that serves properly cold beer at the end of a long day.

Day 12 — Home

One last fuel stop, one last run to the coast, and back into the metal box at Coquelles for the trip under the Channel. We surfaced in England, peeled off one by one toward home in Weybridge, and that was that.

The Numbers

Twelve days. Four bikes. Five countries. Some of the finest roads on the continent, ridden in good company and bloody hot weather.