Schaffhausen to Zurich, by Eglisau.
9 stunden – 29 ½ English miles.
A diligence runs daily, in about five hours
Given that it took five hours, back in 1837, to do a relatively short journey, which now is achieved in just 40 minutes by train, or in less than three hours on a bicycle, it never ceases to amaze me the time that Murray must have put into researching each route for his “Handbook For Travellers In Switzerland 1838″.
There is another road, somewhat longer and more hilly, on the left side of the Rhine, by Andelfingen – (Inn: Bar) – a village of 2000 inhabitants, and the large manufacturing town of Winterthur (5 stunde), described in Route 9
Living close by, I am more than familiar with both routes, normally using both as a regular afternoon outing in an attempt to shed the winter blubber, only to arrive home fatter on each occasion as a result of the local wine and smiley Spitzbuben (“Horny Boy”) tarts consumed along the way. This, however, was the first time Hammer and I had followed the path with Murray’s notes for company, so we chose to ignore the more interesting but “somewhat longer and more hilly” side of the Rhine; a tough 5km addition through Andelfingen, with its church almost as big as the village itself, and where, despite the passing of 180 years, has seen very little population change. The covered wooden bridge still stands over the Thur and the Restaurant zum Bären continues to serve food with its bakery providing for the less sporty cyclist on their ride to Winterthur, before it joins up with the suggested route into Zurich, which we would take instead.
Day 1 actually follows “Route 8” in Murray’s Handbook, a pleasant way to start his recommended “Skeleton Tour of a Fortnight”, despite the shortage of attractions between Schaffhausen with her Rhinefalls and Zurich, just 56km later.
Schaffhausen was the perfect place to begin the tour, as it is probably the most beautiful city in the whole of Switzerland; its ornate buildings and small pedestrianised town centre, surrounded by the old city walls and the imposing Munot castle, high above with its vineyards sloping down to the Rhine.
Schaffhausen, a town of 7500 inhabitants, stands on the right bank of the Rhine, just above the spot where the rapids and falls commence, which render that river unnavigable as far as Basle. It was originally a landing place and magazine at which the portage of goods began and ended, and owes its origin and name to the boat or skiff houses here erected.
The river remains unnavigable from Schaffhausen, (population now 35,000), unless you’re crazy enough to try and sail a boat over The Rhine Falls, the biggest waterfalls in Europe. Instant death is guaranteed. Talking of which, I love the description the police put out of a jogger who witnessed the death of a 76 year old local who accidentally fell to his death in the falls, whilst admiring the view in 2013:
“The man is about 30 years old, about 190 centimetres tall, of slim build, wearing a grey and blue jogging suit”
Oh, yeah, I forgot the important bit…
“He had a three-day beard.”
Now, I’m not sure how long it takes you to grow a beard – especially if you’re a woman – however I think it is a fairly safe bet that not everybody sprouts stubble at the same rate, and I guess the Schaffhausen Police’s description of a “three-day beard” would be slightly different to that of the Appenzell Police.
Pleasure cruises and small rowing boats sail upstream towards Bodensee (Lake Constance) with the traditional Weidling wooden boats lining the river banks of the town and popular for hitching a ride on – apparently you just ask the boatman as he passes by, presumably getting your pretty girlfriend to wave her thumb in the air, whilst you hide behind a bush (it once worked for me), holding a crude cardboard sign in her other hand which states your preferred destination along the river – “Rhinefalls” obviously being less successful than “Schlatt”.
It is almost exclusively on account of its vicinity to the celebrated Falls of the Rhine, that Schaffhausen is visited. It has little resort, except from the influx of travellers, it being one of the portals of Switzerland, and there is little within the town to deserve notice.
We were confused by Murray’s comments about “little within the town to deserve notice”, not least for the fact the grumpy sod had devoted almost two pages of his “Handbook” in detailing how beautiful the buildings were.
The wall and turreted gateways of the town have been preserved and furnish very picturesque subjects for the pencil.
The city walls, dating back to 1250, still stand in parts, with the Obertorturm, being the oldest original building in town, dating back to 1273. It got me wondering how many modern buildings will still be standing 740 years from now. I dread to think what my hometown of Manchester will look like with some of the build-them-quick-build-them-cheap eyesores that have arisen in recent times; a get-rich quick policy being replicated by Swiss developers at an alarming rate.
Elsewhere, along the city walls, the Schwabentor (to the left as you come out of the station) was added in 1361, whilst the Diebsturm, dating back to 1414, was one of two towers built into the wall that acted as a prison. It became an air raid shelter during WWII, protecting the locals from those American pilots unable to read maps, and has been empty ever since due to having no door. We were left fascinated by this 600 year old structure, which has been built around and blocked in, basically serving no purpose and with absolutely no way of accessing. I presume that it was empty when they bricked it up, however I have visions of the last occupant running back inside unnoticed, to double check that he had indeed turned the oven off and unplugged the iron, at exactly the same time the bricklayer was temporarily distracted by his workmate, taking the lunch order for the kebab shop.
As I say, it’s hard to argue that there is a more beautiful town in Switzerland than Schaffhausen, with its old town being kept intact and dating from long before Murray rode through its gates, making his description just as accurate today as it was to the 1830’s English traveller.
It is distinguished above almost every other town in Switzerland by the antique architecture of its houses, whose fronts and projecting oriel windows are decorated with carvings and stucco work.
Many of them were originally entirely covered externally with fresco paintings, but of these there are now few examples; the house called Zum Ritter, nearly opposite the Couronne, is one of the most remarkable of those that remain.
Haus Zum Ritter still stands at Vordergasse 65 and is now a chemist, its beautiful painted facade looking like some sort of medieval tattoo.
The Couronne, opposite, is now the Coop bank and a plaque on the wall details its original purpose as an inn.
The houses or halls of the ancient Guilds, or Zunfts, are worthy of attention on account of their quaint inscriptions and allusive ornaments.
There were originally ten guilds represented in Schaffhausen, each possessing a most magnificent guild house, from which they would create the rules that crastsmen would abide to when practicising their specialist job. In essence they were almost cartels and, as a result, wielded great control over the city.
Nearly all the buildings were sold in the 1850s, however each still stands with the exception of the Rebleuten (wine growers guild), which was destroyed on 1st April 1944 by 60 tonnes of U.S. bombs – the city’s border location obviously confusing the 50 trigger happy American pilots, who somehow mistook the city for Ludwigshafen am Rhein, some 235 km away. April Fool’s Day indeed!
The Zunfthaus zum Rüden (house of males), which sounds like a medieval gay bar, is now the Hotel Zunfthaus zum Rüden at Oberstadt 20; the Gerbernzunft (tanners guild) has become the Restaurant Gerberstube at Bachstrasse 8; and, the prettiest, Gesellschaft zun Herren, the guild for the most noble families, is now the the Herrenstube at Fronwegplatz 3, which still boasts the stunning Baroque facade.
Other guilds included the shoemakers, the locksmiths, the plumbers, carpenters, merchants, butchers, bakers, doctors, hatters, tailors, fishermen, TV satellite dish fitters, saddlers, and, my favourite, the fork makers, whose meetings at Fronwagplatz 7 possibly also permitted the spoon makers to attend as an invited +1 guest.
Apparently, one uninvited imposter to a meeting at the Gesellschaft zun Herren was asked by a shocked nobleman, “Who are you? And how did you get in here?”
“I’m a locksmith… and… erm… I’m a locksmith!” came the reply, before they hastily redirected him down the street to the Zunft zun Schmiden.
Behind Haus Zum Ritter, Münster Allerheiligen (All Saint’s Church) is the oldest building in the city.
The Munster – originally the Abbey of All Saints – was founded 1052. It is a building in the Romanesque, or round arched style, remarkable for its antiquity, the solidity of its construction, and as exhibiting an unaltered specimen of that style.
The church seemed to have a relaxed door policy, accepting all saints, not just the miracle workers or martyrs for the cause.
The arches of the nave are supported by single circular columns, and those in the centre of the transept by square piers of the most massive kind.
Whilst indeed massive, the church would be less impressive or historic as those we would visit later in the day.
The cloister attached to the church contains a profusion of monuments of the magistrates and patrician families.
Kloster Allerheiligen (All Saints Abbey) is now home to an art museum, natural history museum and a pretty herb garden. A stroll around the cloisters made for a pleasant break from pushing the bikes through the crowds of tourists on the Old Town streets.
The Town Library contains the collection of books of the celebrated Swiss historian Mueller, who was born here.
The Bibliothek am Münsterplatz moved from the original Ministerialbibliothek, a few doors down, to this old grain house at the back of the Münster in 1923. Even to this very day, the library still boasts that “the brothers Johannes von Müller and Johann Georg Müller are among the important personalities that Schaffhausen has produced.” Their “Muller Brother’s Greatest Hits” collection is spread over a total of 240 archive boxes (30 linear meters) including over 40,000 letters. With such an expansive output, God knows how they found time to do anything else in the day, let alone afford the international postage charges… Their astonishing output is bettered only by the FBI’s collection of Hillary Clinton emails.
Johannes Muller was one of the most famous historians of his time and his letters include correspondence with, amongst others, Goethe, Schiller, Georg Forster, the Justin Bieber Fan Club and Humboldt – not to be confused with the Hublot watch company. Talking of which, Schaffhausen’s most famous export, other than The Rhine river, IWC (the International Watch Company), are based by the riverside next to the library.
On the height above it rises the curious and perfect feudal castle called Unnoth or Munnoth.
Despite being a regular visitor to Schaffhausen, I had never been up to the castle, so my reaction on entering it, was one of pure amazement. First of, we had to cycle the steep but delightful zig zagging footpath from town, reminiscent of Lombard Street in San Francisco, which was still part of Mexico, and probably called Calle Lombardo, when Murray would have trekked or hailed an Uber Mule up to Munot.
Its towers have walls of great thickness (18 feet), said to be of Roman (?) construction; the building, however, was not finished in its present state till 1564.
The moated round castle that greeted us, at the top of the climb, appeared rather different to the perspective we had got from the town below, and the Roman influence was obvious. It’s believed that they once had a watchtower here, however the earliest records date back to 1098, possibly explaining Murray’s sceptical questioning of the claim, something he does throughout the “Handbook” when repeating some of the more fanciful Swiss versions of history.
Because of its location on the hill, the moat was never filled with water, however they did throw some fallow deer in there to graze. Hardly as impenetrable as Bern’s bear pits but, if the enemy did still try to cross, they are likely to be killed by falling carrots and apples, chucked in the general direction of Bambi and her mates by the tourists above.
It is provided with bomb-proof casemates, capable of sheltering many hundred persons. Many subterranean passages lead from it.
The castle is free to enter and, on walking through the tiny door, we were not prepared for the impressive cavernous interior, which is lit by the sunlight, shining through holes in the roof. Totally unmanned, there’s no signs leading you around, so we were free to explore like adventurous children.
One of the passages led up a historic steep spiral path, made from shiny white pebble stones, which proved rather difficult for Hammer and I to climb with cycling cleats attached to our shoes. As we took one step forward, and slid three steps back, desperately clinging on to the walls for leverage, we could only comfort ourselves with the fact the return would be considerably faster, deducing that an Olympic speed skating position should also be adopted.
At the top of the staircase, we emerged from the tower, unexpectedly, onto a huge platform, which is used as a beer garden.
A year after Murray’s book was published, in 1839, the Munotverein organisation was formed by a local art teacher as an attempt to preserve the building. Today the club still exists and the roof of the castle plays host to weekly black-tie balls, an open-air cinema and opera performances. For over a hundred years, traditional ballroom dances have taken place in the round, with strict well-defined steps and sequences – something which obviously appeals to the peculiar Swiss habit of following rules, which perhaps can be traced back to the Zunfthauses.
The lovely lady in the rooftop kiosk recommended a Munötler wine to help calm our nerves for the slippery walk back down to the bikes. Made from Pinot Gris grapes, grown on the hillside of the castle, it was to be the first refreshment of our tour obeying the rule that, other than necessary isotonic sports drinks and gels, we could only eat and drink produce that would have been available to John Murray back in 1837.
As we took in the view of the vineyards below, whilst sipping the delicious wine and admiring the panorama of the city and the Rhine snaking past, it dawned on me that our mammoth “Skeleton Tour of a Fortnight” cycle trip would actually commence once we had been reunited with the bikes.
That, in itself, was no mean feat; We had to use all our skiing knowledge – pizza, plough, pizza, plough – as we slid back down the spiral staircase in our cleats, desperately trying to grab a hold of the wall to slow us down and save the poor heavily breathing souls, struggling up in the opposite direction, from being swept swiftly back to the bottom.
We carried the bikes down to the river via the more manageable steps on Romerstieg (behind the castle), which dropped us off directly at another guild house. This time the Fischerzunft (fisherman’s guild), now the Restaurant Fischerzunft, which is well worth a visit, if not for its stunning location alone.
As we climbed into our saddles, we watched the boats come and go from the landing stage outside the zunft house, with the trains on the impressive bridge above passing less often than the tourists would have liked, with their cameras primed in position for the perfect action shot, caught in that dilemma of “if I wait for the next train, I could be here for an hour” versus “if I leave now, it will no doubt come a minute later”.
Diligences go daily from hence to Zurich and Offenburg (on the road to Strasburg and Frankfort), three times a week to Constance. A steamer runs twice a week between Schaffhausen and Constance.
How many times have you ran for a bus or a train, only to miss it by a matter of seconds, and left to think “bloody hell, I’ve got to wait another 15 minutes before the next one, now”? Well, imagine poor old Frau Fischer, back in 1837, slowed down by her heavy grocery shopping from Schaffhausen market, missing the steamer home to Konstanz, and cursing to herself, “For feck sake, I’ve got to wait another three days before I can get the next boat home. I better call my family to let them know that dinner won’t be ready. Oh, hang on, I’ve got to wait another 40 years before the telephone is invented. Nevermind, I’ll be home by then.”
Nowadays, the Schaffhausen URh boats go four times a day, and take 5 hours.Trains go almost every half hour to Zurich (an hour away) and Offenburg is just two hours by train (changing at Singen).
The celebrated wooden bridge over the Rhine, of a single arch, 365 feet in span, was burnt by the French in 1799, and is replaced by one of the most ordinary construction. A model of the original may be seen in the town library; the architect was a carpenter from Appenzell, named Grubenman.
I love the fact that Murray always namechecked random architects, carpenters and artists, possibly as a result of having nothing else to say about the subject, or simply just repeating what he had read in Ebel’s guide. Nonetheless, his writings would have allowed such workmen to then advertise the words “Internationally Renowned” to future clients. However, it has to be said, in this particular case, the original Grubenmann-Brücke was bloody impressive.
The concrete Rheinbrücke Schaffhausen–Feuerthalen that now stands in its place certainly lacks the same imagination, and the name of its architect was probably forgotten before construction was even completed…
SCHAFFHAUSEN ACCOMMODATION / RESTAURANTS:
Opened in 1799 as the tap house to the famous Brauerei Falken, which is now the fifth largest in Switzerland, the beer was originally brewed next door at the tavern “Zum Zedernbaum”. As well as the local ale, today, Restaurant Falken, at Vorstadt 5, serves local specialities including a Schaffhauser Pfanne; a plate of mixed meats, vegetables and rosti.
Couronne, not recommended.
The 3 star Hotel Kronenhof, at Kirchhofplatz 7, close to the Haus Zum Ritter, dates back to 1489 with previous guests including Goethe, Tsar Alexander, General Dufour and Michel de Montaigne. Whilst Murray, may not have recommended it, “very good” reviews online, show it’s improved its game since.
The best mode of visiting the falls from Schaffhausen is to hire a boat from thence (costs 48 fr) and descend the river, which already forms a succession of rapids, by no means dangerous under the guidance of a boatman accustomed to the river.
Nowadays, the best mode of visiting the falls from Schaffhausen is to cycle from thence (costs nothing, other than mud, sweat and gears) and follow the river on the left side through Flurlingen towards Dachsen.
Leaving Schaffhausen, the road runs along the peaceful and narrow Rhine river, which gives no indication of the violence that lies ahead as it passes by the IWC headquarters, with their equally beautiful watches. The shere mention of which will surely see me rewarded with a complimentary sample.
When the increased celerity of the current and the audible roar announce that the skiff is approaching the falls, the steersman makes for the left bank, and lands his passengers under the picturesque castle of Lauffen, situated on a high rock overlooking the fall, within the Canton of Zurich. It is occupied and rented by an artist who speaks English, and charges 1 franc admission for each person.
I’m not sure if the woman behind the admissions counter at Schloss Laufen was an artist, however she spoke English, and charged us 5 franc admission for each person to the Rhinefall.
The advantage of approaching the fall on this side, is that nothing is seen of it until it is at once presented in its most magnificent point of view, from the little pavilion perched on the edge of the cliff immediately above it.
The little pavilion still stands, and its multicoloured windows offered different perspectives of the falls, adding a monochrome glow to the view.
Several flights of very rude and slippery wooden steps conduct from this pavilion to a projecting stage, or rude balcony, of stout timbers, thrown out like the bowsprit of a ship, from the vertical cliff to within a few feet of the fall. It actually overhangs the roaring shoot, and though perfectly secure, seems to tremble under the impulse of the water.
Whilst stood on this “projecting stage”, easily over a hundred times in my lifetime, I’ve often wondered to myself – as is the wont of Aquarians apparently – how they went about constructing it. Now that I know it even existed as far back as Murray’s visit in 1837, I’m even more baffled, and less trustful of his words that it is “perfectly secure.”
Here, covered with the spray, the traveller may enjoy the full grandeur of this hell of waters; and it is only by this close proximity, amidst the tremendous roar and the uninterrupted rush of the river, passing with the swiftness of an arrow above his head and beneath his feet, that a true notion can be formed of the stupendous nature of this cataract.
I never grow bored of looking down at the water rushing beneath my feet, whilst getting soaked from the spray above. The Rhinefalls certainly are a place that you should visit at least once in your life. As I mentioned earlier, I’ve been at least a hundred times (I live locally and it’s on my regular cycle route). I remain in awe of its seasonal changing beauty and the impact it has on the coach loads of tourists who usually stop here first on entering Switzerland. For they are certainly the greatest introduction one would ever need to the most spectacular country on earth and one can only imagine the reaction of the Victorian British, stood here with Murray’s Guide in hand..
The best time for seeing the fall is about 8 in the morning, when the Iris floats within the spray (provided the sun shines), and by moon-light. The river is usually most full in the month of July. The Rhine above the fall is about 300 feet broad; the height of the fall is reduced to 70 feet.
I’ve never seen my own village at “8 in the morning”, let alone the Rhine Falls; for I rise only in double figures and, anything before, my eyes are usually so blurred from lack of sleep, you could tell me the toilet flush was The Rhine Falls, and I’d probably believe you. I have seen it “by moon-light” however (the falls, as well as my toilet), and I can confirm, especially during a full moon, it is truly serene with not a tourist in sight, other than some “30 years old” jogger, “about 190 centimetres tall, of slim build, wearing a grey and blue jogging suit” and with “a three-day beard” (again, we’re still taking about the falls, not my toilet).
That is unless of course you visit on July 31st – the eve of Swiss National Day – when they have a spectacular firework display over the falls; one of the highlights of the calendar which attracts over 10,000 people (so get there early). In 2016, tightrope walkers even crossed the falls before the pyrotechnic display, getting their timing just right, much to the disappointment of the crowd, who were secretly baying for the rockets to make the whole performance that little bit more exhilarating.
Crossing the river by the little ferry boat, and by walking back up to the castle and across the railway bridge, constructed at some skill and cost in 1857, twenty years after Murray’s visit, we got to view the falls from the Neuhausen side.
Its appearance from the opposite side of the river is tame in comparison, and the first impression from thence, made by the finest cataract in Europe, will most probably prove disappointing.
This vista is where the coach loads of tourists get dropped off and, far from proving to be “disappointing”, might well be “tame in comparison”, but it offers a great view of the entire falls, and the castle above.
The river, after its leap, forms a large semicircular bay, as it were to rest itself; the sides of which are perpetually chafed by the heaving billows. Here in front of the fall, on the right bank, stands the Castle of Worth, a square tower, containing a camera obscura, which shows the fall in another and a very singular point of view.
Schlössli Wörth is now a fantastic fine dining restaurant but, with such an amazing view, it’s no surprise that it comes at a hefty price tag (CHF 40+ for main courses). There is also a cheaper self-service restaurant on this side of the river for those on a budget and happy to make do with burnt Cervelat sausages and overpriced ice cream.
From this tower to the foot of the rock on which the castle of Lauffen stands, several ferry boats ply to convey visitors across; charging 4 batz each.
Having come across the river by one of these little ferry boats, I can confirm it no longer costs 4 batz each. The 3 minute journey is now CHF 3 each way, (or CHF 5 return).
Two isolated pillars of rock, standing in the middle of the stream, divide the fall into 3 shoots. Seen from behind these pinnacles seem eaten away by the constant friction of the water, and tottering to their fall; indeed, as the rock is soft, the waste of it within the memory of man must be considerable.
From this side of the river, the two “isolated pillars of rock” are the centrepoint of the view and, as we walked alongside the falls, towards the railway bridge, we got to see the erosion Murray talked about close up.
The boats are much tossed about in their passage, but sometimes approach the base of the pinnacles above-mentioned without risk, provided they keep clear of the eddies.
It turns out, according to the modern day know-it-all, Jimmy Wikipedia, that “an eddy is the swirling of a fluid and the reverse current created when the fluid flows past an obstacle”, rather than angry local fishermen Edward Osterwalder and Edwin Haefliger.
For just CHF 7 you can be “much tossed about” in your passage – cheaper than Amsterdam, I’m reliably informed – or for a whopping CHF 20, the boats will even drop you off at “the base of the pinnacle.” Make sure you ask the ferryman to come back and collect you though, as it can be a cold and wet night stuck out there on the rock in the middle of the falls. Although, in saying that, you will get to benefit seeing the falls at their best, “about 8 in the morning” and “by moon-light”.
Close to the fall is an iron furnace; the wheels of the hammers are turned by the fall, and the draught caused by rush of the water supplies the place bellows.
The “iron furnace”, with its waterwheel, still stands next to the falls. Amazingly, in 1944 the Swiss Government agreed to build a power station at The Rhinefalls, after initial plans in 1887 and 1913 were shelved. Opposition was so great, 15,000 people signed a petition, including Nobel Prize winning author Hermann Hesse and Red Cross President Carl Jacob Burkhardt. The Swiss Government backed down and the site became a permanent tourist attraction for future generations.
It was Murray’s words, “the wheels of the hammers”, that sharply reminded us we needed to get the wheels of the Hammer back on the road again, as we still had a full afternoon cycling ahead of us with the city of Zurich to explore. We quickly rushed over the impressive railway bridge and back upto the castle, where our bikes were waiting.
RHINE FALLS ACCOMMODATION / RESTAURANTS:
There is a good inn close to the Rhinefall… At the village of Neuhausen, 10 minutes’ walk from the fall, there is a clean and moderate small inn, Zum Rhinefall: charges – beds 2 fr, dinners 3 fr, breakfast 11⁄2 f.
Whilst there is now an ugly 1980s building housing a Hotel Rhinefall, it is not the same Hotel Zum Rhinefall mentioned by Murray. For historic accommodation, you can’t do much better than the Dachsen am Rheinfall Youth Hostel, located in the thick walls of Laufen Castle on the opposite side of the river, right above the waterfall itself.
As mentioned, for food, you can’t do much better than the excellent Schlössli Wörth, an fantastic fine dining restaurant with a fine view (CHF 40+ for main courses).
The walk from the Falls to Schaffhausen is very pleasant, and commands (as you approach) several pleasant landscapes, of which the town is the principal object.
Heading back towards town, so we could cross the bridge over to Neuhausen, the route took us along the beautiful riverside, with Schaffhausen, Munot and its vineyards in full view.
Re-approaching The Rhine Falls on the right hand side of the river, we were now following the route of Murray’s “Skeleton Tour of a Fortnight.”
0km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN BAHNHOF
0km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ SCHWABENTOR → flat
0km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ RESTAURANT FALKEN → flat
0km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ OBERTOR → flat
0km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ ZUNFTHAUS ZUM RUEDEN (Oberstadt 20) → flat
1km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ DIEBSTURM (Neustadt 13)10 m
1km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ ZUNFT ZUN METZGERN (Fronwagplatz 7) 20
1km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ GESELLSCHAFT ZUN HERREN (Fronwagplatz 3) → flat
2km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ HAUS ZUM RITTER (Vordergasse 65) → flat
2km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ MUENSTER ALLERHEILIGEN10 m
2km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ KLOSTER ALLERHEILIGEN → flat
2km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ BIBLIOTHEK AM MUNSTERPLATZ → flat
2km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ RESTAURANT GERBERSTUBE (Bachstrasse 8) → flat
3km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ MUNOT 40 m
3km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ RESTAURANT FISCHERZUNFT (Fischerstubengässchen 2)
3km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN URh → flat
3km ~ SCHAFFHAUSEN ~ GRUBENMAN BRUCKE → flat
6km ~ FLURLINGEN 5
8km ~ SCHLOSS LAUFEN AM RHINEFALL(NB, leave bike here)
8km ~ RHINEFALL SCHLOESSLI WOERTH → ferry
If necessary, return to collect bike via bridge and cross back over to right side of Rhine
11km ~NEUHAUSEN 60
13km ~SCHAFFHAUSEN → flat