The Route: https://www.komoot.com/collection/180/8-stages-on-the-alpe-adria-cycling-path
You’re missing a beautiful sunrise” I announce to the three silent tents, dewy and pale in the dawn. No replies.
“Guys” I say louder. “it’s amazing” A grunt from one, I hear Harley turn over in his sleeping bag. We’re meant to be up and out of camp in half an hour. Better change tack.
“You’re missing the most amazing ‘gram ever guys.” I say even louder. That gets them. Alex’s head appears out of the tent. Harley, phone in hand, is up. Joanna in her flip flops and socks, Sven with his long hair sticking up in all directions. Know your audience, everyone.
It was a beautiful sunrise though; we were camped high up , looking down on a valley filled with golden mist. The lower hills were navy blue, fading into bands of azure. The high peaks behind are peach and pink, dusted with gold sun, the mist turning bright as the light hit it. The alps wake up beautifully. It was going to be a hot day of climbing, and it was time to get up and get on the bikes.
We were taking a week off work to do the Alpe Adria trail, a gravel route that runs from Salzburg in Austria over the alps and into Italy, ending up on the Italian Coast at Grado- though we were detouring to finish in the more spectacular Venice. The trail took a lot of digging to find, but proclaimed itself to be the “best cycle trail” in Europe. I didn’t need much more persuasion than that. So, with my twin sister, Joanna, our boyfriends Sven and Tim, and two friends- Harley and Alex- we set off in September.
Flying into Salzburg through a whole series of thunderstorms, we set off to our airbnb in stormy wet darkness, and rolled into camp soaked through. So much for missing rainy season.
In the morning, we were greeted with the sound of frantic rain fall, lashing against the windows of the airbnb. We peered outside, and then flopped back into bed. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant ride today. Two coffees, breakfast and a pack of early haribo later, we climbed reluctantly onto our laden bikes and set off into the downpour. It was mountain rain; heavy and soaking, but not too cold. We pedalled through a gloomy seeming Salzburg, admiring a castle which slid out of the cloud for a few moments, and some pretty architecture. Salzburg is (I assure you) one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, but the cloud cover sat at 5 metres up, so my only recollection of it was greyness and the feeling of my waterproof giving out at the elbows. Then we climbed out of the city and into the mountains.
The alps are beautiful. The route winds between some of Austria’s tallest mountains, prettiest alpine scenery, most stunning villages and down some fantastic bike paths. Sometimes I had to pinch myself to remind myself that I was actually living this. We rolled into Hallstatt on the first day, greeted by scenery so stunning it looked like it was out of Lord of the Rings rather than Austria. The tiny medieval town sits right on the dark shores of lake Hallstatt, tucked under vertical cliffs of granite and sheer pine forests. The lone church tower soars into misty air, reflected by the dark waters of the lake. Even in low cloud and rain, the place is serene and magical. The town itself is a riot of colourful quaint wooden houses on steep streets, with no cars allowed. Even the Spar- where we spent an abnormally long time buying “grobes brot” (big bread) filled with chocolate and poppy seeds and as dense as a brick- was prettified, subtly hidden behind a deaccession.
This magical experience was cut short by the angry owner of the campsite, who was so furious that we’d want to stay at his campsite that he shouted at our only german speaker (sven) and slammed his door in our face. We googled the campsite later to see that this was that average greeting for anyone who wanted to camp there, with comments such as: “For some reasons, as soon as the receptionist saw us, he was shouting as us and told us to get out”, “The ground keeper was offensive and clearly didn’t want us to be there from the moment we started to talk with him” “the owner is rude and crazy and does not like young people” “The receptionist was utterly unfriendly, quite aggressive and unpleasant from the beginning with no apparent reason.” I recommend avoiding Campingplatz Klausner-Höll!
All was forgiven the next morning, as we rose to see a wonderful misty sunrise over the lake, with sunlight pouring over the peaks onto the serene lake. We spent a long time having coffee and pasties on the shore of the lake, unable to leave the beauty. Eventually the crowds of tourists shipping in on buses got too much to bear, so we set off out of the valley and over to Werfen.
The ride was a bit like the sound of music; green pastures and cows with bells, trees just turning yellow, and beyond this all, the awe inspiring granite peaks of the alps- blue-black silhouettes against the blue sky. We spent the day on bike paths, slowly climbing and descending several small passes, and stopping for coffee, cake and ice-cream whenever we came across the next charming town. Progress was slow but appetites were satiated.
We took a day off in Werfen, a tiny town which sits in the shadow of the incredible “Hochkogel”, a 2000m high mass of sheer granite. Even their stunning Hohenwerfen castle, sitting pearched on a precipice of 600m, looks like a toy town in comparison. There is plenty to do around there- you can hike up to Hitlers holiday home, or drive out to some spectacular waterfalls. We opted to see the Ice caves, the worlds biggest. It was an epic just to get up to them- a 20min bus up a steep, windy mountain path, then a 15 minute cable car, and another 20 minute walk up and up to a giant gaping hole in the side of the mountain. The ice cave was pretty…cool- excuse the pun- towering ice sculptures formed by cold air getting trapped in the cave. Lit by eerie magnesium, and directed by funny tour guides, it was worth the freezing feet. Bring something warm though!
After this, we cycled over to the incredible Badgastien. The cycle ride spent most of the time on the valley floor, passing ravines and sheer mountainsides, clear waters and immaculate gravel bike paths the whole way. Badgastine is fantastic- other than it’s name, which allows for many jokes about farts- it is an unmissable stop. The town sits on a ravine, separated by a waterfall. It was biggest climb of the trip coming up into Badgastien; you edge up a mountainside at a steady pace, winding up through the town with the view spreading out on to one side. We stopped for photos and a great coffee half way up, gazing at the waterfall falling between houses built on vertical sides. After several hours of climbing, you are rewarded with a train journey over the summit, and then an amazing 10km steep downhill, wiggling down alpine paths to the valley floor. We camped just outside of Spitall An Aa Drau, and found the best pizza of the trip in a back alley tennis club pizza joint. If you get a chance, definitely visit Tennishalle, the pizzas were divine.
From here, we passed through Villach, and off to the Italian border. We had quite a time at the Italian border, I was so excited at getting there I promptly rode into a concrete pillar and fell off, along with all my bags and water bottles, which got the attention of the snoozing border guards. We stopped for selfies and haribo, feeling extremely proud of ourselves. There was a man waiting there who showed us how to gesture like an Italian- it’s apparently all in the shoulders.
We raced off to the first town we could see to get out first Italian Snack (fresh bread, coffee and ice cream) There had been much excitement throughout the trip about reaching Italy and having Italina food. We couldn’t wait to carb load with pizza, bread, ice-cream, and pasta. It did not disappoint.
From the Italian border, we rode almost out of the alps on an 80km downhill which blew my mind. It followed the old Pontebbanna train route, but it had been perfectly tarmac-ed, so cycling was an absolute joy. It was the stuff of every cyclists dream. A long downhill, perfect surface, completely off road, wiggling through tunnels and over bridges, following a spectacular ravine down to the sea, with views of distant lofty peaks. It was the best day of the trip, and perhaps of any cycling I’ve done.
We took a day off in Venzone, at an icy cold, clear glacier lake called Lago De Cavasso. Camping on it’s shores, with beer and pizza mere steps away at the campsites restaurant, we spent a perfect rest day chilling out and attempting to swim (but running out screaming after a few seconds in the icy glaciated water)
From Verzone, we headed out of the alps to Udine, and over the flat (boring) farmland to Venice. We took a ferry into Venice, sailing up the grand canal in a purple sunset. You aren’t allowed to take bikes into Venice officially, but we sneaked them in anyway and walked them through the narrow cobbled streets to our Airbnb in the dead of night.
That evening, after a 120km last leg, we gorged on local pizza, sitting on the banks of a canal in the jewish quarter of Venice. All we could hear was water and the noises of each other devouring our pizzas. It was truly a good end to a trip that tested out taste buds as much as our legs.
If you are interested in a flattish, gorgeous, off road route between two incredible cities, this one is the one for you. More information at : https://www.alpe-adria-radweg.com/en/
To see the route we took: https://www.komoot.com/collection/180/8-stages-on-the-alpe-adria-cycling-path
Even better, the route can be done with no flying. Train stations in Munich and Venice run daily trains to Paris and Brussels, where you can catch a train back to London.
