Over the Bernina Line to Tirano and Back

I had wanted to get to Italy on this trip. Part of it was simply the satisfaction of adding another country to the ones I had visited. Tirano, just across the border at the end of the Bernina line, was the place I had in mind.

The day before, I had been in Lugano, not far from the border, but the seasonal bus from Lugano to Tirano had not been running, and I had not found a practical way to get there that day. So on Thursday, 1 February, I tried again, this time on the Bernina Express.

I had booked the train from Chur to Tirano, leaving at 08:32 and arriving at 12:49, and the return train leaving Tirano at 14:25 and reaching Chur at 18:20. As I understood it, the winter Bernina Express left Chur only once a day, so I had to get from Basel to Chur in time to catch it. Luck was on my side, and I made the connection. Chur itself was a long way from Basel. Counting the trains to and from Chur and the waiting in between, I remember the whole day taking more than sixteen hours.

Chur in the morning

By a little after eight, I was on the platform at Chur. The red trains of the Rhaetian Railway were waiting, and the Bernina Express had panoramic carriages, with windows curving up into the roof.

A red panoramic carriage of the Bernina Express at a station platform, with large curved windows, under a covered platform roof. — The Bernina Express at Chur.

Across the tracks stood the Glacier Express, another of the famous trains, in its own red and white livery.

A red and white Glacier Express train standing at Chur station, seen through a train window, with snow-dusted mountains behind. — The Glacier Express across the tracks at Chur.

There were empty seats around me when we left.

The inside of a panoramic carriage, with dark seats and large windows curving up into the roof, and mountains outside. — Inside the panoramic carriage.

Up the Albula line

For the first hour, the train followed the valleys, past rivers, villages and fields with patches of snow. Then it began to climb, and the snow got deeper.

On some of the curves, I could see the front of our own train ahead of me, crossing bridges over the valley.

A red train crossing a stone bridge on a curve high above a winding road and snowy slopes. — Our train on a bridge above the road.

At about half past nine, the train crossed the Landwasser Viaduct, the tall curved stone bridge that runs straight into a tunnel in the cliff. From the window, I could see the front carriages already disappearing into the rock.

A red train on a tall stone viaduct with arches, entering a tunnel in a rocky cliff dusted with snow, with pine trees above. — Crossing the Landwasser Viaduct.

The pass in a whiteout

After the Engadin, the train climbed towards the Bernina Pass, and the weather closed in. By a quarter to eleven, everything outside was white. At Bernina Diavolezza station, the buildings were only just visible through the snow.

A small station building with a red sign reading “Bernina Diavolezza”, almost lost in falling snow, seen through the train window. — Bernina Diavolezza in the snow.

Near the top, I could see the front of the train curving away into the whiteout.

The red carriages of a train curving away into thick falling snow, with almost nothing else visible. — The train curving into the whiteout near the pass.

A little after eleven, the train stopped at a small station high in the snow, and some of the passengers stepped out onto the platform.

I owned waterproof boots, but I was not wearing them that day, and I did not want to get my shoes wet in the deep snow. Apart from a brief moment on the platform, I mostly stayed on the train. It was a lesson I remembered later, when I made sure my wife bought suitable waterproof boots before our days in the mountains together.

Then the train began the long descent towards Italy, through snow-covered forest and along ledges above the valley.

A red train curving along a ledge with a stone wall, among snow-covered fir trees, in falling snow. — Coming down through the snow.

The spiral at Brusio

Lower down, the snow turned to rain and the fields turned green and brown. Just before half past twelve, near Brusio, the train ran through a loop and over a stone viaduct that curves round in a full circle, so that the line passes underneath itself.

A long red train curving round a loop of track in a grassy field, with the start of a stone viaduct and houses at the edge of the valley, under low cloud. — Going round the spiral at Brusio.

Tirano

The train arrived in Tirano at about ten to one. I had made it to Italy.

It was raining. Just outside was the station building, painted yellow.

The yellow station building in Tirano, with a clock on the front, across a wet square under a grey sky. — Tirano station.

I had about an hour and a half before the train back. I had a pizza for lunch, with ham, olives and artichokes.

A large pizza with ham, olives, artichokes and peppers on a white plate, on a table with a striped cloth. — Lunch in Tirano.

After lunch, I walked around the town for a while in the rain. The streets were quiet, and the mountains around the town were hidden in low cloud.

A wet street corner in Tirano with a tall, ornate pale building, traffic lights and a road sign, below mountains in cloud. — A street in Tirano.

The way back

The return train left at 14:25. Not long after leaving, it passed close by a large church with a dome and a bell tower, right beside the line.

A large white church with a dome and a bell tower, seen through the curved window of the panoramic carriage. — A church beside the line, leaving Tirano.

Then we were back in Switzerland, and passing the spiral viaduct at Brusio again, this time from below.

A curved stone viaduct with tall arches above a green field, with a red train beneath it, under a grey sky. — The Brusio viaduct on the way back.

Further up, the train ran along the shore of a frozen lake. At the small station of Miralago, the ice stretched away into the mist.

A small station sign reading “Miralago” beside a fence, with a frozen, snow-covered lake behind it fading into mist. — Miralago, on the frozen Lago di Poschiavo.

In places, the ice had broken up into white patches on dark water.

A lake partly frozen, with irregular white patches of ice and snow floating on dark grey water, below a snowy hillside in mist. — Ice on Lago di Poschiavo.

Over the pass and down through the Engadin, the snow was still falling. By about half past five, it was getting dark, and the panoramic carriage was almost empty.

The empty interior of a panoramic carriage at dusk, lit by warm lights, with blue evening light and snowy trees outside the curved windows. — The panoramic carriage at dusk.

From Chur, it was still a long way back to Basel. It had taken the whole day, but I had been to Italy, and I had crossed the Alps twice to do it.