The Tremola, the legendary cobbled road over the Gotthard Pass, had been on my list for a long time and was the perfect stopover on our way to Italy, even if it was only three to five degrees in the van in the morning. Until late in the evening great classic cars drove past us, taking the hairpins with gusto.
From above in the morning and evening light
The view from above with the drone surpassed everything. At sunrise the first rays laid golden light on the stones; in the evening dusk drew long shadows into the bends.
A road full of history
The pictures from above show how the old road winds up the mountain in tight hairpins – a road where history and driving pleasure come together. The Tremola runs down the Ticino side from the Gotthard Pass, 2,107 metres high, to Airolo; since the Middle Ages the pass has linked Uri with Ticino and, until the tunnels were built, it was one of the most important north–south routes across the Alps.
A yellow waymark in the cobblestones – and the Tremola running up towards the pass.Autumn on the Gotthard: below the rocky peaks an avalanche gallery runs along the slope.A stone arch bridge over the stream, a single car on the slope above.Small beneath big rock: the avalanche gallery at the foot of the snow-dusted peak.The Tremola from the air: cobblestones in tight hairpins around little islands of grass.One of the few straights – cobbles with a centre line and the old stone wall alongside.A hairpin with a white post in the middle – the Tremola at its purest.Twice over: the Tremola's S-bends and the road winding through the rocky valley.On the summit of the pass at 2,107 metres: mountain lakes, the pass buildings and a dam beyond.Hairpin after hairpin around a rocky knoll – from the air the Tremola looks hand-drawn.A dusting of snow on the summit, the long avalanche gallery on the Gotthard below.Beside the stream the road winds downhill, past small huts.Two views of the pass: bare rock and hairpins beside small green lakes.Wide switchbacks over the rocky ridge – on this stretch you stop counting the hairpins.Hairpins around a small hut in the scree, the pale cobbles between grey and green.Dead straight between scree and grass – a rare quiet moment on the Tremola.Backlight over the valley: the switchbacks fade into the haze towards Airolo.Hard against the rock face, one hairpin folds into the next.On both sides of the gorge the Tremola takes the slope in loops.Low sun grazes the switchbacks and the slope up to the peaks.
