Alps
15 September
The town of Konstanz sits at the end of a peninsula, protruding into the north-western end of Europe’s third largest lake of the same name or Bodensee, to use the German.
Larger than you might think and not as pretty as Meersburg that lies a short ferry ride on the north-east shore, it’s not much more than convenient for an overnight stop. There’s the terrifyingly expensive ‘Orphelia’, a two-Michelin-starred restaurant within walking distance of the town but we’ve never summoned the courage to visit.
Bodensee is shared between Germany, Switzerland and Austria. It’s from here we are heading to the spectacular B200 that winds its way up into the mountains from near Dornbirn, limbing to over 2,000 metres. Even in late September, the snow is piled up by the roadside.
It also takes in the Bregenzenaturepark. Although it’s all really rather peaceful and beautiful, I don’t think I’ll be visiting again. The locals have lost patience with being used as a route favoured by bikers and have imposed a strict 95db noise level. I know this as I was apprehended by two perfectly friendly and professional Polizeidamen in Weißsenbach-am-Lech and asked to produce the papers for my Ducati V2 Panigale. As she suspected, the V5 showed the noise level it generates as 102db.
I thought of protesting with: “Do I look like a pauper to you Madam? This is the full, £4000 Akraprovic titanium system so is at least 112db” but my German is really not up to this. And God knows what the fine would be for such a cacaphony as it was a whopping €220 for a mear 7db infringement.
At dinner later in Gries-am-Brenner, after a gruelling last seventy miles, fighting day-trippers returning to Innsbruck and those trying to escape it on the Brenner Pass, we talked to a retired German policeman and the owner of the Gasthaus Alte Poste.
They confirmed that the antipathy to motorcycles is consistent across the German-speaking people. While Anschluß might be forbidden in perpetuity, coordination of policy against bikers isn’t and many of Germany’s most celebrated routes are now limited to 77db.
The heavenly ‘Tris’ (traditional dumplings made with pasta, parmesan, garlic and spinach) followed by Bambi & Chips at the Alte Poste are definitely worth returning for. But the only route there now is exclusively Autobahn, and so the destination loses some of its appeal.
You could chance it and cane your steed around the great roads loomed over by Germany’s highest mountain, the Zugspitz, as both policeman and proprietor said I’d been extremely unlucky. But get caught twice in a week and you might as well have been to Orphelia for dinner. You’d have to go steady on the wine mind.
