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I do recall though being aware that I was more likely to run out of energy than time with the two big climbs just up ahead. So it could well have been a concious act — realising that I in all likelihood I may be heading for a hotel after the Gavia rather than tacking on the extra m or so of climbing over the Passo Tonale as well. After quickly jogging up the steps to get back into reception and drop the key off, I roll left onto the main road. As expected, there is no traffic worth speaking of — maybe the odd car or coach, none of which pass close enough to bother me though. Before long the route splits right onto a cycle path which takes a curious dogleg into a field which it then rises up as it swings back to follow the road. In the process though I miss a turn and find myself stuck on the road. I can see the path I missed to my right, and decide to walk the few meters over the grass field to get back to it — getting a nice cool soaking of dew on my feet and ankles in the process. My reward is the wonderful, if strange sight of what looks to be a church tower standing alone surrounded by the water of a small bay. I know I must turn somewhere to get back onto my original route, but I find myself following instinct rather than any clear plan. A right branch of the cycle path is signposted that looks to cross the bottom of the lake in the right general direction. Sure enough, a few meters beyond the head or is it foot of the lake it merges with a path coming in from the right and the Wahoo beeps in satisfaction that we are now back on track. And what a track it is. TCR has led onto some amazing paths and trails but what follows is right up there with the best of them. Only at Laudes, 7. What I could have seen, and is also blindingly obvious, is that the valley rises uphill. At various intervals are large signboards which show this to be one part of a much larger cycling network, although my brain struggles to orient any of the branches of path or names aside from the one I am on and the town of Taufers, just up ahead. The trail is gradually deteriorating from decent gravel track to full on mountain bike track when suddenly it does just that. Although the route the other side of the river takes a little decoding until I figure the short right and left dogleg onto the small road across pastures up to the lines of houses above which I assume is Taufers. Firstly, despite being narrow an oncoming pocket sized SUV shows that this is actually a road. I glance at the buildings of Taufers as I ride through, wondering about a breakfast stop. I miss what could have been a couple of opportunities though. The first is what looks through the windows to be a hotel with guests sat at tables inside. The second is a garage which, only once past I realise had an open shop. Plus I can see what seems to be Santa Maria in the distance, although it turns out to the town before Mustair , with no obvious places open. By the time I reach the top of the steady drag into what is actually Santa Maria I am sufficiently starving the packed food being long gone that I am much less shy of just barging into the first definitely open place I see. Which also turns out to a hotel, with residents enjoying their morning meal at least they were until I arrived. The hosts are only to happy to let me join them though — for a not so small fee 20 CHF. The lobby area is smart, and wooden clad in very Swiis style. Up a couple of stone steps to the right, and a low doorway that has me ducking slightly lies the breakfast room, or at least the first chamber of it. I toss my gear on an open table right in front of the coffee machine and survey the goodies. Set out next to the coffee machine and spreading across tables under the front window is an impressive array of pastries, cakes and a large platter of assorted fruit. Those will definitely get raided soon, but before then the second chamber needs to be properly investigated. On my first visit I come back with juices and a large bowl of muesli — both of which are so good, I immediately go and get seconds. The third visit sees me venture onto the cold meats and cheese section, plus a couple of rolls and croissants to stuff them in. There was even various cured fish had I been in the mood, but by now those pastries are in need of attention, along with a third cup of coffee. And finally, several large slices of water melon from the fruit platter and a petite little glass jar of yoghurt which also demands a second visit. It seems rude not to grab a final fourth coffee and juice before I leave — actually drag myself away would be more accurate. I literally could have sat there and done another couple of rounds. Definitely a top notch establishment for a hungry TCR rider. The opening few switchbacks, as with last night into Nauders, I have the legs for. The pass is just too long and too high thought for me to ride the whole way up it. Umbrail Pass may not be the famous way up Stelvio but it is nevertheless completely stunning and deserving of a far better attempt on it than I managed. After the first sequence of switchbacks the road rises out of the trees onto a a small plateau where it crosses a stream on a little bridge before swinging back into a second sequence of turns. Time to grab a couple of shots before heading down to the next. The sheer scale of it took my breath away and I was more than a little nervous rolling down into the first couple of turns. What were nerves minutes before becomes an exhiliarating rush. Far from holding the traffic up, myself and two or three other riders descending at the same time are actually passing the busy line of vehicles. Cutting a tighter line out of one of the corners we manage to get ahead of a coach that is holding the cars up. With clear road ahead there is nothing to hold us back as we charge downwards. The road straightens though towards the foot of the descent anyway and the traffic begins to move more freely, some of it passing us again. One last tight corner brings the coach to a standstill which proves to be handy as it makes for a free right turn for me off the main road and down into town. Down in the valley, devoid of the cooling effect of rushing mountain air, and weaving through the town there is just one single overwhelming sensation. Not some mild, sweaty warmth but blazing, stifling heat. Not a breath of wind stirs along the narrow cobbled streets packed between the old townhouses. A short way through the town I cross into a broad square, with parasol covered benches and tables in the middle. The unmistakeable figure of another TCR rider is stood there, seemingly kitting up to leave. We exchange a few words — on my side asking how the food was, which immediately prompts me to order a coke and some Lasagne. His name is Wouter cap and he seems to be going well and in good spirits. We chat a while, both of us share a similar view of parcours 1 it seems. As my food arrives he rolls off to tackle the parcours. I really should have ordered a second helping of the pasta. I do grab an extra coke but, aside from being delicious, the fuel would have been very helpful. After taking a pee though, I head out keen to get to my CP2 stamp. I want to record parcour 2 as a single track segment in case there is any need to provide my GPS log as evidence. Not the gradient, or the distance, but the afternoon heat. I duck into a small shop to grab a sports drink for my back pocket, an extra water to top up my bottles, and some snacks. The latter are nothing I even vaguely recognise, but the choice at the little store is somewhat eclectic. The helpful lady owner gestures as if to show they will give my cycling strength. Rather oddly, I believe her despite any real evidence she is a cyclist herself. The heat is ridiculous. My progress and time management today has been anything but effective, but big heat and big hills will do that to you. After leaning the bike against a wall I grab a quick selfie as proof of passage before heading inside. I immediately go to the bar and grab a panache shandy to celebrate. Instead I sit on a dangerously comfy couch in the foyer, and chat with Yoli as well as catching up with messages, social media, and the race tracker. The Gavia is infamous for changeable and extreme weather, even in summer. But it seems way too early to contemplate stopping either. As with Umbrail earlier, I get a decent chunk of the way through the next set of switchbacks before the engine starts to falter and I hop off to give it a break. From there upwards it becomes alternating stretches of hike-a-bike on the steeper sections, and spinning my easiest gears up the easier parts. On the way up I chow through a whole pack of Haribo and both of the snacks from the little shop, which turn out to be incredibly sweet, but from what seems to be honey rather than sugar. They also seem packed with almonds, or some other kind of nut. Around the last few corners the gentle breeze picks up into more of a real wind. The clouds around have not yet developed into a full blown storm, but they show every sign of doing so. By now I am pretty much exhausted, but I need to get some warmer gear on for the descent. I lean the bike on the wall of the refuge at the top and quickly delve into the saddlbag to fish out everything I need. With huge relief I find the spare, old base layer is lurking in there still — along with the micro fleece and waterproof shorts. As I do so my fear immediately shifts from the possibility of a storm to the immediacy of what lies ahead. The first couple of switchbacks seem to have been built outwards from the mountainside which exaggerates the effect, making it seem like you are riding out over nothing as you begin to sweep through the bend. Looking down the profile of the road is a properly stunning sight — a narrow dark strip that clings onto a perilous steep hillside which it twists around far into the distance. I am utterly alone — there is not a car in sight, and none pass me throughout the whole 15km drop into the valley. It is cycling heaven — or it would be were it not for that tiny voice in the back of my head wondering how long it would take someone to find me if I misjudged a corner and came off on the way down. Despite doing my best to lay off the brakes so they still have power heading into the sharper bends, on occasion I catch an unmistakeable waft of them cooking. At the top it was smashed to bare gravel in places, but even as the gradient lessens and the road drops into forests and through pastures there are rough patches here and there. Being brutally honest, the hotel had seemed smarter in the pictures, and they no longer have a restaurant. Plus I get to take the bike to the room too — which brings with it a unique moment of pure TCR commedy. The lift to the third floor is too small to wheel the bike into fully, so I angle it upwards instead. But the lift has doors on both sides and, when I get there I realise the third floor exit is on the opposite side. I ended up taking the lift all the way back down to the ground floor so I can angle it the opposite way against the door, which will then allow me to drop the front wheel into the corridor once it opens. It reminds me of a similarly farcical scene trying to get multiple bikes into the tiny lift of a Pizza restaurant in Saldanha with Theunis and the guys on a Cape Audax. For some reason I never fully comprehend, the pizza never arrives. By the time this comes to light I have zero interest in travelling out again to a restuarant, so half of the packed breakfast becomes my dinner for the second night in a row. It leaves me once again with the realisation I will need an early breakfast somewhere. The Passo Tonale is going to sap some energy before I reach the long run down the valley towards Trento, and the easier riding beyond. So I check my cue cards and the maps on my phone as I eat. Or more accurately, try to eat. The problem is the crustiness of the bread which plays havoc with my sore mouth. I end up almost sucking it into a pulp to avoid the pain of having to chew. At least there is some potentially good news. I had noted down a 24hr Esso station on the ring road heading out of town. Yeah, they are pretty full on right?! I read that the Brompton guy melted his rim tape on one of them. Your email address will not be published. Follow this blog! Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed. Skip to content. Leave a Reply Cancel reply Your email address will not be published. Loading Comments Email Required Name Required Website.

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Registration's totally free, of course, and makes snowHeads easier to use and to understand, gives better searching, filtering etc. When you register, you get our free weekly -ish snow report by email. It's rather good and not made up by tourist offices or people that love the tourist office and want to marry it either We don't share your email address with anyone and we never send out any of those cheesy 'message from our partners' emails either. Anyway, snowHeads really is MUCH better when you're logged in - not least because you get to post your own messages complaining about things that annoy you like perhaps this banner which, incidentally, disappears when you log in Username:- Password:. Or: Register to be a proper snow-head, all official-like! Prev topic :: Next topic. Poster: A snowHead. Having just returned from the Trois Vallees, I am wondering if this is the biggest rip off in the Alps? In Courchevel we were being charged up to 9 euros for a beer, and another guest in our chalet was charged 14 euros for a pint of coke! Can anyone top this? Obviously A snowHead isn't a real person. Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see? Half a litre - I reckon that worked out at about 6 quid a pint. You need to Login to know who's really who. Yeah, That's a rip off. It's about 5 to 6 Euros here in Les Arcs - and that ain't cheap Zermatt??? Anyway, snowHeads is much more fun if you do. Was also 6 euros for a hot chocolate, and 9 if you wanted cream on top! Not everywhere was that bad, but they were the prices on the slopes. You'll need to Register first of course. Perfectly nice places on piste-side are available with hot chocolate for 3 euros, there are moderately priced bars in comparision to the rest of the resort , a panini and a drink for lunch can be had for around 6 euro. Of course, it's easy to spend your inheritance on a week's holiday in Courchevel. But you can also be there without blowing an absolute fortune. Then you can post your own questions or snow reports Yep, agree with that, we did find some good places. Unfortunately usually you dump your skis, plonk yourself down on a deckchair and order a drink, it's only when the bill turns up that you realise what you have just been charged! After all it is free. Courchevel is ridiculously overrated - expensive, lacking in facilities, not very interesting skiing yes, I know it gives access to a big ski area but that's not really the point , full of strange people wearing dead dogs. It's only a so-called 'top resort' because Hello magazine says so and for some reason we all believe it. You'll get to see more forums and be part of the best ski club on the net. You would pay 6 euros in any major city in France for a half liter of tap beer lager. Beer at 2 euros a pint like you get in UK pubs is not the norm and probably explains why there are so many drunks on British high streets these days. Ski the Net with snowHeads. I think it's more like Euros per pint in British pubs, but I'm all in favour of nostalgia on that front! This is why I prefer Italy to France. Last week we were in Passo Tonale and a pint was around 3 euros. And love to help out and answer questions and of course, read each other's snow reports. So if you're just off somewhere snowy come back and post a snow report of your own and we'll all love you very much. You know it makes sense. David Goldsmith wrote: I think it's more like Euros per pint in British pubs, but I'm all in favour of nostalgia on that front! When I was on holiday in Bournemouth last summer it was 1. Otherwise you'll just go on seeing the one name:. Beer's shockingly expensive in London. And I thought I lived out in the sticks!!! Quote: Beer at 2 euros a pint like you get in UK pubs Wow! Where do you drink? Not in my local it isn't! In Courchevel we lunched several times on a very comfortable restaurant terrace just across the road from la Croisette, pizza, pasta, the occasional oyster or bit of steak, the odd pud, a glass of wine, coffee, and the bill was perfectly acceptable campared to UK, if not especially cheap, especially given the quality which was first class. Val d'Isere last week, we were paying between 3 and 7 euro for large beers, but mostly 3 to 5 euros. It is worth checking on 'happy hour' prices. Some of the bars had chalk-boards outside with their prices listed. I always feel like I am being robbed when I go to Val d'Isere, although the robbers are all very friendly and polite One thing that sticks in my mind particularly is the Spar. First it is the flashest Spar I have ever been to. Val d'Isere has 4 supermarkets, three are Spars and they have to pay for lots of air-time adverts on Radio Val. It is worth shopping around between them to find the best prices. A worthwhile saving on bottles of nice Champagne. I agree with Arno about fruit prices in Val, they seem very high. Intriguingly much of the fruit is displayed in baskets that hold at most 20 pieces. This suggests to me that they do not sell or expect to sell very much of it. I wonder how much self-catering holidaymakers spend to get their 6 portions of fruit and veg per day? I paid 22 Euros for a bowl of strawberries in last week - works out at 2 Euros per strawberry Still was highly entertaining watching the rich in their fur coats, jewels and boob jobs! Long time since I been to Courcheval - didn't think much of it and haven't returned!! I bought one of those tiny tubes of sun cream with a blob of lip salve at the end today, at Courchevel Don't know what the price is elsewhere but that seemed a complete rip-off to me, given the quantity it contains. The question that springs to mind is 'why? Ian Hopkinson wrote: rob rar. Just got back from Zermatt last week, and the most we paid for a beer was 6. The Northwall bar was 14chf for a 3 pint pitcher. Seem to be concentrating on Europe here - I found the lift pass prices in the US, East Coast quite astonishing when I visited a few times on the back of business trips. CP wrote: Seem to be concentrating on Europe here - I found the lift pass prices in the US, East Coast quite astonishing when I visited a few times on the back of business trips. It is interesting, is it not, how different people can have totally different perspectives on the same thing? I regard USA and more so Canada as generally good value. You have to factor in tipping and sales tax, but that's not rocket science, especially when you're doing a currency conversion anyway, and most things seem to work out cheaper than UK and Switzerland for that matter. They have their drawbacks as holiday destinations, but being a rip off does not seem to me to be one of them lift passes are expensive, agreed. My perspective on the the Swiss as a frequent visitor, although not for a couple of years now , on the other hand, is that they regard visitors as a natural resource to be intensively mined, which they do extremely well, and enjoyably for the visitor. I once had my pocket expertly picked a Geneva railway station; the reason I didn't notice was that I had spent the previous week having it picked even more expertly by hoteliers, mountain restrauteurs and barmen. I know that there are cheap places to stay in Switzerland and that it's cheaper than it used to be, but it's no bargain to the tourist. Obviously there are some places where you can spend a lot of money but if you avoid those then everything is fine. For example, yesterday I bought a pack of 15 33cl bottles of beer at the supermarket for 4. No problem Rob. I forgot to mention I foolishly didn't ask the price before ordering! I'm off to St. Moritz in March, so will have to compare prices Switzerland isn't as expensive for Brits as it used to be where is? Mind you, I think that the worst value meal I have had skiing was a lunch in some cafeteria type place up the mountain somewhere in Verbier. It's not so much that Switzerland is pricey, more that the natives are practised in parting you from your cash while clearly regarding you as a kind of untermenschen. New Topic Post Reply. Snow Snow Snow! Solo Skiers v Groups - Orga Archives Lost and Found Ski Club of Great Britain To one side secret Mountain Hideout snowShops You cannot post to forums until you login You cannot read some forums until you login Read about snow conditions : snow conditions And leave your own snow report : snow report Find advice to help plan your ski holidays : ski holidays The snowHeads Ski Club : Ski Club 2. Terms and conditions Privacy Policy. Snow Reports. Where is the biggest rip off resort? After all it is free After all it is free. So if you're just off somewhere snowy come back and post a snow report of your own and we'll all love you very much So if you're just off somewhere snowy come back and post a snow report of your own and we'll all love you very much. David Goldsmith wrote:. Otherwise you'll just go on seeing the one name: Otherwise you'll just go on seeing the one name:. Last edited by Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see? Ian Hopkinson wrote:. CP wrote:. You only live once, I love strawberries and I'm a she by the way.

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