Switzerland has me again

One could imagine the day off as idleness. But not in Italy. Here, it is important to consistently work through the cultural and culinary program. It starts with the typical breakfast consisting of cappuccino and croissant in the bar across the street. Then it continues to the supermarket to compensate for the morning calorie deficit with some sandwiches. Afterwards, it is important to find delicious smoked sausage and local cheese to bridge the gap until lunch. It's unbelievable what you can get there, I already had such a taste explosion in my mouth that it blew me away. Then it's time to think about the daily ration of ice cream, accompanied by one or two espressos. Once these things are done, the Aperol Spritz awaits as a refreshment before the main menu in the evening - variations of pasta or a large pizza, rounded off with the appropriate dessert, such as a large cup of tiramisu. It's exhausting on the day off, but if you also want to fit in a tour, this requires extremely meticulous planning.

So on the following day, with fresh energy but carefully scheduled, I tackled some nice trails around Aosta. It had a real Mediterranean flair, of course including the obligatory thorn landscape next to the paths. I managed to avoid too many bloody scratches, but don't complain about my clothes having holes. Those weren't the moths.

I mentioned before that Aosta is deep in the valley. Accordingly, the pass that should take me back to Switzerland, the Fenetre du Durand, was quite high. 2800 meters. No matter how I turned it around, I had a killer stage ahead of me. I had to climb 2100 meters in one go to leave inhabited areas and find a suitable campsite. That would be my new record for altitude with full equipment.

So I started pedaling. I could take my time because there was definitely no downhill that day. Along the way, I met two touring cyclists on their way to the Great St. Bernard Pass for a short chat. As usual, they were horrified that I had a backpack. Instead, they prefer to hang dozens of bags on every single rod of the bike until the supposedly agile creature has turned into a cumbersome hippo. As much as I generally feel connected to other cyclists, classic touring cycling would eliminate everything that makes bikepacking so special - going where no motorized vehicle can reach, because those are usually the most beautiful places, then camping up there in high alpine terrain and, of course, riding fantastic trails afterwards.

All of this was also offered by the Fenetre du Durand. Once again, I found a wonderfully lonely campsite, above two mountain lakes, in front of steep cliffs interspersed with waterfalls, and opposite the glaciers of the Combin group.

At sunrise, I set off to cover the last 400 meters to the pass by pushing. When I reached the top, it seemed as if I had reached a different world, like from a cheesy fantasy movie. A secluded valley lay before me, surrounded by peaks whose names I had never heard before and in front of which massive glaciers crawled downwards. What a panorama, and as if ordered, there was a dream trail that let me glide deeper and deeper into this landscape. I didn't encounter a single soul in this enchanted land until I eventually arrived at a huge reservoir and knew - Switzerland has me again. And their engineers have done a great job.