If carving through Alpine hairpins, conquering legendary passes like the Stelvio and Grossglockner, and experiencing the raw drama of the Dolomites sounds like your kind of riding, then this tour is absolutely for you. We ride some of Europe’s most iconic roads—from Switzerland’s historic cobbled Tremola Pass to the 48 hairpins of the Stelvio—and experience six countries worth of spectacular scenery, excellent food, and unforgettable moments. It’s a true delight for riders and pillions alike.
Fourteen days. Six countries. Umpteen mountain passes. One unforgettable journey through Europe’s most legendary riding roads.
DAY 1: THE JOURNEY BEGINS – EUROTUNNEL TO FRANCE
The crossing was easy. The wind was not.
The wind hit us the moment we rolled off the Eurotunnel train—the kind that makes you grip the bars tighter riders leaning into the gusts. The same crosswinds we’d battled on the Black Forest tour a few weeks earlier.
But we pushed through. Coffee, fuel, determination.
As we carved deeper into the French countryside, the wind eased. The landscape opened up—endless fields, quiet villages, that distinctly French sense of space, golden fields stretching to the horizon, villages so quiet you could hear the click of our indicators echoing off stone walls. Then came the diversions. Multiple diversions. At one point, we followed a diversion that led to another diversion, forcing us to double back in a loop, but in true Columbus style we found our way around without too many more hitches.
Ro and Neil were already at the hotel when we arrived—they’d crossed earlier via Hull to Rotterdam. Over dinner, we swapped stories, checked weather forecasts, and made plans for tomorrow.
Tomorrow: The Black Forest and the legendary B500.
DAY 2: INTO GERMANY – VOSGES, BLACK FOREST & THE B500
A cool morning greeted us as we pointed east across France’s vast agricultural heartland. The roads varied—long, straight stretches punctuated by the occasional wiggle, then proper twisty sections as we hit the northern Vosges.
By late afternoon, we had crossed the Rhine and were climbing through the Black Forest, joining the B500 just before our hotel. The forest-lined roads, the smell of pine, the gentle curves—this is why we come to Germany.
Tomorrow: Austria and a two-night stay with ride-out options that include the Grossglockner and Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest. Decisions, decisions.
DAY 3: THE B500, BAVARIA & AUSTRIAN LAKES
The day starts well with a ride up the B500 past Mummlesee. Part of the B500 was closed but the diversion in place offered an excellent twisty run through a wooded section, so all was good with lots of smiles at our first coffee stop.
Then we came across the road closure. But the diversion turned out to be a gift—tight, wooded switchbacks that had everyone grinning at the first coffee stop.
As we crossed into Bavaria, the landscape transformed: perfectly manicured farmland, immaculate villages, roads so smooth you forgot to think about potholes. Taking the autobahn to bypass Munich, we crossed into Austria, stopping for coffee by a mountain lake with the Austrian Alps rising in the distance.
By early evening, we’d checked into our hotel for the next two nights. Pool. Spa. Mountain views. And tomorrow’s options: the Grossglockner, the Eagle’s Nest, or pure relaxation.
“It’s a tough life on a Columbus Tour.”
DAY 4: THE GROSSGLOCKNER VS. THE EAGLE’S NEST
The group split.
Half headed to Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest—the historic mountain retreat perched high above Berchtesgaden. The rest of us? We rode the Grossglockner.
And what a ride.
Glorious sunshine from start to finish. We climbed through switchback after switchback, the views opening up with every turn. We climbed the famous cobbled switchbacks to Edelweißspitze (Riders Point), where every biker stops for the mandatory photo with Austria’s highest peak looming behind. Then onto the Pasterze glacier at Kaiser-Franz-Josefs-Höhe viewpoint, followed by lunch surrounded by snow-capped ridges and impossibly blue sky.
The Grossglockner really is a bucket-list road. Photos don’t do it justice. And the best part? We get to ride it again tomorrow on our way to the Dolomites.
DAY 5: GROSSGLOCKNER (AGAIN) & INTO THE DOLOMITES
Glorious weather. Again. We climbed the Grossglockner for those who’d missed it yesterday, stopping at Bikers Point before continuing through those sweeping Alpine curves.
Coffee. Photos. More riding.
Crossing into Italy, we lunched within view of the “Tre Cime”—three distinctive rock spires rising vertically from the valley that look photoshopped even in person. The scenery changed dramatically as we entered the Dolomites: sheer vertical walls, narrow valleys, and roads that switch back on themselves in ways that feel almost impossible.
Last coffee stop in Corvara (obligatory photo by the wooden town sign), then on to our hotel for the next two nights. Dinner was pizza. Brilliant, wood-fired, everything-you-could-want pizza.
DAY 6: DOLOMITES RIDE-OUT DAY
Rest day or ride-out?
Everyone chose to ride.
Because when you’re in the Dolomites, you don’t rest—you ride. The roads here are unmatched: tight switchbacks that stack on top of each other, long sweeping curves through alpine meadows, and scenery so dramatic it almost feels fake.
We climbed pass after pass. Sella. Pordoi. Gardena. Valparola. Each one different. Each one perfect. Coffee after coffee. The odd panini eaten.
By evening, we’d ridden some of the most iconic roads in Europe and finished with a meal at a traditional trattoria—the kind of place where the menu is spoken, not written, and everything tastes like it was made by someone’s grandmother.
Perfect.
DAY 7: THUNDER, CHAINSAWS & LAKE GARDA SUNSHINE
“Biblical” doesn’t quite cover it.
Twenty minutes out of the Dolomites, the sky opened. Not rain—hail. Marble-sized ice bouncing off the road while lightning split the sky. We pulled into a hotel car park, scrambling for rain gear as thunder rolled through the valley.
Then, just as suddenly, it stopped.
We’d barely gone five kilometres further when we found our path blocked: a full-sized pine tree sprawled across the road. Before anyone could suggest turning back, a forestry worker appeared—chainsaw in hand—and calmly went to work. Within minutes, the road was clear.
By the time we rolled past Lake Garda, the sun was blazing at 25°C, and the storm felt like a fever dream. Lunch by the lake, espresso at a panoramic outlook, and two nights ahead with nothing but good weather promised.
DAY 8: LAKE GARDA RIDE-OUT
Some stayed to relax by the lake. The rest of us? We rode.
We crossed Lake Garda by ferry—bikes lined up on deck, riders leaning on railings, sun glinting off the water—then looped around the back of Monte Baldo. Temperatures hit 30°C as we climbed to a viewpoint 1,500 meters above the lake. Hazy, but still spectacular.
Back at the hotel by early afternoon, we met the others lakeside for cold beers. Dinner at another local trattoria. Tough life.
Tomorrow: We head towards Stelvio.
DAY 9: GARDA TO BORMIO – ALPINE PARKS & HIDDEN PASSES
We said goodbye to Lake Garda this morning, the shoreline disappearing in our mirrors as we climbed into the Parco dell’Alto Garda Bresciano. The roads changed immediately—narrower, twistier, carved through protected Alpine parkland where the only traffic was us and the occasional local.
Passo San Rocco came first, a tight little climb that warmed everyone up nicely. The views opened up as we descended toward Lake Idro—smaller than Garda, quieter. We stopped for coffee by the water, the morning sun warm on our backs, no agenda except the road ahead.
Then up again over Passo Crocedomini, the road snaking through forest before breaking out into open alpine meadows, where the views stretched for miles.
Last coffee at a ski resort felt surreal in July. Empty chairlifts. Grass instead of snow. A quiet mountain town waiting for winter. Then came the tunnels. Long tunnels. The kind where you lose track of time and emerge blinking into daylight on the other side. When we emerged, we were somewhere else entirely—deeper into the Alps, closer to Switzerland, the peaks higher and sharper.
By mid-afternoon, we rolled into Bormio—a proper Alpine town nestled in a valley, surrounded by peaks. Our hotel for the night and the gateway to tomorrow’s main event.
Tomorrow: The Stelvio Pass. Early start. Big day.
Nobody needed to be told to set an alarm.
DAY 10: THE STELVIO CHALLENGE
We headed out earlier than normal today to miss the crowds, climbing out of Bormio through the famous 48 hairpins, carving up the south side, through the small single-track tunnels, stopping for photos of the view back to Bormio.
This is what we came for—the most photographed road in the Alps, and we’ve got it almost to ourselves.
At the summit (2,758 meters), we browse the shops while the bikes cool down. Terry buys some tea towels—because apparently that’s what you do at the top of Europe’s second-highest paved pass.
Coffee. Photos. T-shirts.
Then comes the debate: take the gentle Umbrail Pass toward Switzerland, or descend the north side—the really famous side, the one in all the photos, the one that appears in every motorcycle calendar, every “best roads” list, every rider’s bucket list?
Unanimous vote: ride the 48 hairpins down the north side.
By the time we reach the bottom, everyone’s grinning. We stopped for photos—every rider lined up their bike for the shot with the entire zigzag of tarmac stretching up the mountain behind them.
Then we push on toward Switzerland for an afternoon of pass-hopping: Flüela (lunch stop), Ofenpass, then a traverse across Switzerland ending on the Furkastrasse, because one legendary road is never enough.
Spectacular riding. This is what we came for. Just another day in the Alps.
DAY 11: THE SWISS SIX-PASS LOOP
Perhaps the highlight of the entire tour—though it’s hard to say after so many incredible days.
Rain and mist at breakfast. We waited at the hotel for it to clear. Still foggy as we climbed the Nufenen, but by the summit, the clouds broke. Clear skies. Sunshine. Game on.
Six passes in one day: Nufenen, Tremola’s historic cobblestones, St. Gotthard, Susten, Grimsel, and Furka in reverse from yesterday and then Nufenen also in reverse from this morning. Each one different. Each one perfect.
This is what we came for. This is why we ride motorcycles.
“If you ride a bike, you need to experience this at least once. Just once.”
DAY 12: FAREWELL SWITZERLAND, BONJOUR VOSGES
One last climb up the Grimsel—this time in thick fog. Pea-soup visibility at the top. We stopped for a photo by the rusty biker sculpture, then as we descended the fog cleared.
Our route took us through the UNESCO Biosphäre Entlebuch—a protected region of mountains and moorland—before looping through Switzerland’s gentle lowlands toward France.
Leaving the Alps behind felt bittersweet. They never fail to deliver.
We arrived at our hotel on the edge of the Vosges with time to spare. We all wandered into town, where Terry added to his tea towel collection. At this point, we’re convinced he’s opening a shop.
DAY 13: VOSGES, MOSELLE & THE ARDENNES
Blue skies. High twenties. We rolled west across the Vosges, following the Moselle River through the Lorraine National Park to our final hotel—a charming spot on the banks of the Semois River in the Belgian Ardennes.
Pre-dinner drinks by the river. Dinner at a lovely Belgian restaurant where Roy and Rob tried the pigs’ trotters.
Verdict? “Excellent.”
Tomorrow: the final ride through the Ardennes back to the UK.
DAY 14: THE FINAL RUN – ARDENNES TO EUROTUNNEL
Beautiful weather. Perfect roads. We crossed back and forth between Belgium and France all morning—Ardennes curves, quiet forest roads, coffee by the Meuse River.
Final run to Calais and we caught an earlier train (always a bonus).
Fourteen days.
Six countries.
Umpteen mountain passes.
One unforgettable journey through the greatest riding roads in Europe.
The Alps changed us. The Dolomites challenged us. The Swiss passes reminded us why we ride.
But mostly, it was the people—riders who became friends, strangers who became traveling companions, moments shared over coffee and curves and countless kilometres of perfect tarmac.
Fantastic roads. Great food. Brilliant people.
What a tour.