17 July 2025 (becoming fine with cool wind) 38km

My mat went down, as usual in the night, but I couldn't be bothered blowing it up. I'm finding that I can sleep fine even though half the night is on the ground.

Eyes open at 5.57am with a slight respite in the rain, just long enough for us both to whip to the loos. As soon as we got back in the tent it started raining again. So Ju made us a delicious milky coffee and we snacked on nuts and an apple each.

It's now 7am and still raining. The last forecast we had was for good weather today, so we wait in hope as we don't want to miss the photo opportunities on the Albula Pass. We sure don't want to make the effort of climbing it with all this low cloud clinging to the mountains that surround us.

This will be our biggest test yet. With good weather it will ensure stunning photographs and hopefully some great memories. We only have 35kms today to the next campground, but it will be our hardest climb for thirty seven years. Wish us luck. 

Ju here: At 8am the rain stopped and we bundled up for the cold ride back to Bergun for the day's supplies. It was no hardship visiting this village again, absolutely magical. 

We ate breakfast in the little hut where Regina joined us. It's funny how quickly friendships can form when you have shared interests. Raja and Lio commented last night, “oh, you all know each other?” We replied “yes, we met last night, we're old friends!” But it kind of feels like we are.

Regina left about twenty minutes before us, so we packed up our sodden tent and pedalled down the driveway. Turned right onto the road to begin climbing the Albula Pass, and it started straight away.

It's not good when you feel the ache in your legs from the first pedal stroke. Usually after a night's rest we feel fresh, with no pain anywhere. But this morning we had no easy riding to warm up the leg muscles which to be fair, have taken a bit of a beating these last few days. I thought we would have grabbed a rest day somewhere along the way, but with the weather being so good, we don't want to miss out on a perfect day for cycling. We can rest when it's raining.

We were straight uphill, 1000 metres of elevation in 14kms. The clouds were fading fast and the sweatshirts quickly came off.

As we climbed with our aching legs and the dread of knowing the effort that lay ahead, I noticed this little fella, who looked just like he had been attempting the same and decided, “ah fuck it! I give up”, which was exactly how I felt at that moment!

But we climbed slowly and steadily and maintained that for the two and a half hours it took us to reach the summit.

The traffic was steady and we still had to be vigilant and careful where we took photos, but the scenery was something else.

We made sure to take regular breathers, but they were sometimes no more than a minute, two at most, but it was all we needed to recover to complete the next phase. Back to Pete.

Arrived at Preda, which is the point where the trains stop. We had been told we could take the train and then just do the final piece.....Really? What's the point in that…? By now we had settled into a steady rhythm.

It's great to think that your sixty plus year old bodies will still respond to a major effort and come through.

At 12.30pm we reached the summit of the Albula Pass at 2315 metres. Up there to meet us was Regina, waving and congratulating us.

She took a few shots to mark the occasion.

It was very cold at the top, something we hadn't noticed until we were stood outside the restaurant.

Regina went inside to have something to eat in the restaurant, whilst we sat outside. We managed to snag the only seat in the sun and out of the wind, (which seemed kind of fair as we were definitely the oldest people there, and aside from Regina and two ebikes, the only ones carrying luggage. Even the ebikes had to change batteries!) we ate our peanuts and watched all the racing cyclists come over the top, acting very cool, like it was nothing.

We set off before Regina as we didn't want to get too cold and we go down very slowly. All the racing cyclists fly downhill and it is seriously scary stuff. Even for us as they soundlessly hurtle past you. 

One mistake, a small stone etc, and they would be sailing over the crash barriers at seventy plus kph over a massive drop. Too scary for us. We just tootle down with the brakes on thanks.

At the bottom we rode into La Punt Chamues in the Engadin valley.

Stunning mountains, the Inn river, turquoise in colour, flowing steadily along and beautiful valley riding stretching out before us. 

In Zuoz, we had to do more climbing to reach the supermarket and we felt every pedal stroke.

Being a Co-op we could get wifi, so we were able to post the blog from a couple of days ago and bought some food, before heading off to our camp for the night, a few kms away. 

Passed through the beautiful (but strangely named), village of S-Chanf, with beautifully etched buildings, quaint and sitting perched on the mountainside, with an amazing outlook over the valley. 

These etched concrete features on the buildings in this part of Switzerland are so cleverly done and add a long lasting decorative edge to a building.

Some are really intricate.

Others quite simple.

But the overall effect is stunning.

Chapella camping was an idyllic location that Regina had suggested.Vans and caravans up on the top level and cars and tents, with some caravans on the river level. When we saw the steep drive of about 400 metres down to the tent pitches, we parked up the top and got showers before gliding down to the riverside to pitch the tent.

I hadn't showered last night and after today's climb, I was hanging out for a good shower, which it was.

Facilities were great.

Stood in the shower and washed about ten pieces of clothing.

We'd arrived at 3.45pm, so I knew the sun would only have limited time on my garments, but washed them anyway. 

We scored a cracking pitch with a picnic table right by the river. We duly spread our washing on the table and hung it from the bikes and a nearby tree.

Regina had arrived hours ago and had just woken up from a nap, so we invited her over for a wine and got the tent pitched.

Ju here: There are moments of perfection in life, in fact every day probably has at least one moment of perfection. Whether it be witnessing the smile on a child's face when they see their grandparents, or watching a spectacular sunrise while driving your car and one of your favourite songs comes on the radio.

Well we had an hour of perfection, sitting on the warm rocks by the river, with that freshly showered feeling as the sun warmed us and a gentle breeze lifted my drying hair off my face. Sitting there with the turquoise river, the pine trees and mountains and the good company of Pete and Regina, sipping on a red wine, which tasted so good, well, it just doesn't get any better. Especially sitting there reflecting on what we had all achieved.

We talked about how when you have done a climb like that, how exhilarated you feel. How everything tastes so good and you are on a natural high. You are proud of yourself, because it wasn't easy but you have been rewarded with unbelievable views. And Pete and I especially feel so grateful that our aging bodies are able to do this, especially after Pete's knee blowing up like it did. Now it's like there was nothing wrong with it so we feel extra lucky to still be doing this trip, especially with all the climbing involved for the last week.

The sun started to slide behind the treetops and you could instantly feel the coolness, so our perfect little rest and chat in the sunshine came to it's natural conclusion. My moment of perfection then came to a sudden end when as I went to sit at the picnic table to make dinner, my hand slid on the dry wood and I got about six splinters in my hand. Don't you love life? Anyway, two days later I've only got three little bits left in there.

It was chilli con carne with lentils and rice for five nights in a row now. I'm looking forward to a change in diet! We all ate together at our little table and finished with a milky coffee before the cold forced us to our tents about 8.30pm. Back to Pete.

Regina will go her own way tomorrow to do the Fluelapass before finishing at her uncle's place and we will be going over the Ofenpass.

As Julia and I settled into our tent, expecting three degrees overnight, a bunch of German kids began playing football around our tent.

Twice they hit the tent and twice I told the noisy little gits to bugger off somewhere else.

No sign of mum and dad.

So, as the screams of the little shits ring out around the valley, we bid you a goodnight.