Everyone deserves a second chance? So, today was Switzerland’s.

Dr Google had identified Oberalppass on the map (source of the Rhine and my starting point) and suggested, yes, there was a train option. Excellent. The only potential fly in the ointment was how well Swiss Rail would accommodate my sturdy steed? A trip to the train station to enquire seemed prudent.

I maintained a brave face to the trilingual greeting from the nice Swiss Rail lady and explained my plans. Her brow furrowed as she rattled her keyboard. More furrows. Clearly, this was Honours Swiss Rail territory. “I must consult my Supervisor” she explained, and was gone.

Back in minutes, she announced an elongated “Jaaaaah!” (something told me this was going to be complicated). 3 separate trains. No guarantee about the bike. Tight transfers. Deep breaths. “I’ll be okay, won’t I?” (with a crooked Harrison Ford smile). Swiss efficiency retained a poker face.

So off I pedalled this morning to catch the 0806 train on platform 6. A plush carriage presented (with the bike icon on the door, just as promised) and I was away. This was a serious piece of locomotion – think DART on steroids (or, perhaps, some more potent powder). The only problem was that my first transfer point wasn’t on the screen. . . .

A nice train conductor explained I would have to get off at Erstfeld and take another train (the front half, it turned out) to Groshenen. So far so good.

The transfer to the next train allowed only one minute – but it worked flawlessly. This train was a different proposition altogether. It felt like a reupholstered version of a Wild West job – and about as old. Off we went and in less than a minute we were ascending a serious gradient. The train groaned with the effort, making various clanking noises. Alarmingly, it started to slow down, the strain of the ascent clearly evident. Gradually it slowed to a complete stop. And then seemed to shudder backwards as if the brakes weren’t quite up to the job. Images from Wild West films of runaway trains began to appear in my hyperactive imagination. And Tom Cruise’s escapades in his latest movie didn’t help (the vertical carriage scene).

It was then I spotted the Dead Man’s Brake. I never did like that term.

A train appeared at the window headed in the opposite direction and I realised we were on a short section of dual track to accommodate the otherwise single track on the route. We lurched forward and completed our journey without incident.

Andermatt boasted a Radisson Hotel (ski territory) and a much fancier train (The `Glacier Express’, no less) that completed the journey to Oberalppass. Job Done.

Switzerland 1 – Bob 1

Switzerland’s reputation restored.

And off we go – the official start to this grand adventure.