This ended up being too long, so I have split it at (more or less) the Swiss border.

Expectation management is an important life skill; I didn’t do well at that on our journey to Zurich.   Zurich=Switzerland=mountainous/beautiful – isn’t that right?  After the boring central section across Germany the previous day, I had rather built the Basel-Zurich leg up in my mind: only to be disappointed.

But Zurich to Tirona?

Wow!  Just… WOW.

To get to Italy from Zurich, without going through a long tunnel, you use the Bernina Pass. There are other scenic routes, but this was one of Roger’s  ‘must haves’.  Again, I  was expecting mountains and lakes and rivers and scenic overkill.  And I was not disappointed.

Leaving Zurich, the train followed along the shore of Lake Walensee.  It was rammed – every available seat was taken and luggage was everywhere.  This, and the misty conditions due to the humidity, made photography difficult.  I had thought it was just my incompetence but Roger’s pictures weren’t great either.

We didn’t climb much but there were definitely mountains. This changed at Chur, along with our train.

Leaving Chur (also a full train), we gained height and also scenery.  Sometimes the train just went ‘uppish’, sometimes it went ‘very uppy’ (at which point Roger queried whether it was a rack and pinion train – no) and sometimes it went a but lopsided as it went round corners (or just along the side of a steep slope).  This, in particular,  was a bit disconcerting.

It was: stunning, majestic, beautiful,  awe-inspiring, magnificent…  Take your pick.  Photographs cannot do it justice – and we hadn’t even got to the ‘good’ bit yet.

Steeply (almost vertical) wooded slopes, bare crags at the top, rocky outcrops, deep ravines with frothy, chalky white water rushing across stones, were interspersed with violently green pastures, ruined stone buildings (I hesitate to call them castles) and pretty churches.

It was enchanting and I lost myself trying to catch the ‘perfect’ picture – to the point where I wasn’t actually appreciating the views.

We kept climbing, my ears started to notice, and approached the Landwasser viaduct, where the train curls round just before a tunnel.  The best views were on the other side of the train and I managed to fumble my phone as we went round the corner so I missed (in every sense of the word) the ‘best’ bit.

It got even more spectacular.

Between Bergun and Preda there was a complicated set of helices and tunnels that took the train from one range into another – the Albula viaduct.

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Preda marked an exodus of passengers, all wearing VERY technical clothing, stout boots and carrying serious day packs. There were also a lot of small axes and walking poles in evidence. The atmosphere in the carriage eased somewhat – whether due to the reduction in bodies or potential weaponry was unclear.

And on to San Moritz, and a break.  The best bit was yet to come.

San Moritz is at 1775 metres above sea level; the track climbs to 2235 metres, with peaks at 4049 metres and then drops into Tirano at 429 metres. Roger had decided at the last minute to book seats in the observation car and, as we left San Moritz, it became apparent that this decision had been well made. Should you ever do this journey, take the Bernina Express.

The Bernina Pass – awesomely spectacular.

Leaving San Moritz it seems like more of the same until you notice the glacier peeping out.

You go round a corner and all of a sudden, there it is:

The train climbs past forests, streams, hikers carrying large backpacks and small train stations.

You keep climbing until you lose the trees, and the glacier gets closer and closer.

And you end up in a high altitude plain, with narry a tree in sight. But LOTS of walkers. Few cyclists, funny that.

Up to this point, the announcements have started off in some form of German, but from here they start in Italian. Also, up to this point all water goes north.

It continues to be beautiful and we get the trees back.

Then we reach the watershed. From here, water drains south into the Black Sea or the Adriatic and the language spoken is Italian. (We haven’t left Switzerland yet, I know this because I haven’t had my EE Welcome to Italy message along with a reminder about charges).

And we start going down. Gently, but definitely down.

There is a brief stop at Alp Grum to stretch our legs and take pictures:

We are now firmly ‘on the other side’. Which is as good a place as any to pause…