At the summit of the Stelvio Pass, over 9,000 feet in the sky, there’s a plaque commemorating the soldiers who died here, fighting in the ‘world's highest battle’ during the First World War. Amongst the revving of distant engines, the clinking of beer glasses and the hubbub of mixed languages atop this iconic driving road, it’s an unnerving reminder of the brutality of these mountains.
At this altitude, the air is thin, the terrain is barren, and the climate is volatile. Imagining the occupation of such a place in 1915, not to mention waging war in these conditions, is enough to sober up any adrenaline-fuelled traveller who stops long enough to take notice.
And yet here we are, drawn like moths to a flame, towards the mountain range that has defeated armies, devastated entire villages, and spat out over-exuberant tourists with disregard: the Alps. A picture-postcard of idyllic natural beauty at best, a destroyer of worlds at worst. Our definition of driving paradise.
We start our adventure in the alpine foothills of central Switzerland, in the city of Lucerne. On the horizon, the evening light bounces off the distant peaks as our cars tick cool from an arduous 24-hour slog to get here. We’ve travelled on four hours of sleep through roadworks, torrential rain, French riots and more Péage toll booths than I care to remember. But it was all worth it for that view.
And it’s not just the sight of the mountains that heightens the anticipation – our trio of Elise Cups are also dialling up the excitement. They include Gav’s toxic green Elise Cup S, Jon’s heritage racing green Elise Cup 250 Final Edition, as well as my own vivid green Elise Cup 250 FE. Three of Hethel’s finest, itching to stretch their legs on Europe’s greatest driving roads.
After a dawn chorus of cold starts in an underground car park, we travel southward around Lake Lucerne and onto our first stop: a layby at the foot of the Furka Pass where we’ve arranged to meet a small group of Swiss Lotus owners – our alpine tour guides for the next couple of days.
True to their reputation, the Swiss are impeccably on time. We arrive ‘fashionably’ late to be met with a sensational line-up of Elises and Exiges, as well as half a dozen beaming smiles. It turns out the Lotus community in Switzerland are some of the most welcoming, friendly people on the planet – all thanks to our hosts, Rob & Johanna.
Before the smiles have worn off however, they’re stretched even further. Emerging through the morning mist, an all-black 2-Eleven roars up the hillside, piloted by Bruno Schaffner, of Schaffner Racing (Zurich-based Lotus dealer & fanatic). Both its occupants are dressed in ‘Biggles’ goggles, leather helmets (a legal requirement to drive a car with no windscreen in Switzerland) and grins as wide as their car’s rear wing. If the Lotus party hadn’t already got started, it had now.
In spite of changeable weather, the next twelve hours fly by in a haze of epic scenery, glorious tarmac and flashes of colour. From the Furka Pass – home to the iconic Hotel Belvedere – we race through the upper Rhône valley before a steep ascent up the rugged Grimsel Pass. The mist clings resolutely to the mountains, keeping the visibility low and our senses on high alert, but the adrenaline only serves to heighten the experience. Reaching the Susten Pass around midday, we stop to catch our breath.
As the mist burns away, we’re rewarded with jaw-dropping views across the Uri & Bernese Alps. Not that we have much time for sight-seeing. Up here it’s hairpin-to-hairpin, point-and-squirt style driving. Heavy on the brakes, glance up the hill, clip the apex, open up the throttle and repeat. Over and over and over again.
After a while, it feels as if the car finds its own rhythm – never putting a foot wrong, never hesitating. You have to consciously remind yourself of the limits (and the dangers) of these roads, such is the confidence the Elise imparts. These mountains have a knack of luring you in.
Picking our way back towards the Furka Pass and then eastwards across the Oberalp Pass, we reach our overnight accommodation – a ski resort near the village of Disentis which, given the time of year, is blissfully quiet and surrounded on all sides by lush green mountain pastures.
Cars parked, we grab some food with our new European friends and laugh, tell stories, and enthuse about all things Lotus until the lights are turned off. It never ceases to amaze me how these silly little plastic cars have the ability to bring people together.
The alarm clock strikes 5 a.m. and it’s time to start again. ‘Time for Yoga!’ one of our group, Livio, announces. Thankfully he’s talking about the automotive kind – a few early morning suspension stretches, tyre warmups, and plenty of meditative manoeuvring was on the agenda. An early morning exercise routine I can really get on board with.
After retracing our steps back across the Oberalp and Furka Passes, we reach the Nufenen Pass, the highest paved mountain pass in Switzerland – a sensational stretch of tarmac perfectly suited to the Elise’s driving dynamics. At the summit of Nufenen, a solitary wooden cross stands high on the hillside. A symbol of hope for some, death for others – another timely reminder of the juxtaposition of these mountains. We pause, breathe in the crisp alpine air, then drop down the east side of the pass into the Canton of Ticino, Switzerland’s most southerly and Italian-speaking region.
As we descend, the temperature rises, the landscape softens and before long, we’re sipping cappuccinos in the morning sun as the cars perform their cool down stretches. Livio rolls up an imaginary exercise mat and gives us a knowing smile. Yoga session complete.
Meandering our way back across the mountains, we traverse the Nufenen, Furka and Oberalp Passes again, as well as the Lukmanier, Tremola and Gotthard Passes for good measure. Almost 250 miles of mountain roads in the company of great cars and even better friends. Perfection.
To cool off, we pay a visit to the Rhône Glacier – the source of the River Rhône and a major contributor to Lake Geneva, the largest lake in Switzerland. A 200-metre scramble from the roadside brings you face-to-face with this huge body of ancient ice, which is now rapidly disappearing as the Alps’ climate warms.
The surface of the glacier is covered with white blankets in an attempt to slow down the melting, but a carved entrance grants access to a winding ‘ice grotto’ within. Inside, the walls glow blue and the melting ice can be experienced first-hand, pouring down the tunnel’s walls and dripping from the ceiling above. I question whether sending countless, toasty tourists inside a melting block of ice is helping or hindering, but apparently, they’ve been doing this here for 150 years. Something tells me they won’t get another 150 out of it.
There’s a sad inevitability about the melting of the Rhône Glacier and I can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as I exit the gift shop to be met with a car park full of performance cars and motorbikes, all here to burn fuel for individual pleasure. Guilty as charged your honour. I try to reassure myself that my 4-cylinder, locally built, lightweight car isn’t all that bad, but the glacier has definitely left its mark on me.
Back at our accommodation, more laughter and late-night conversation ensues. We discover that one of our group is a huge Max Verstappen fan who finds it hilarious that we’re still talking about Abu Dhabi 2021. Once again, I take my hat off to the Elise – if it can bridge the gap between Hamilton and Verstappen fans, it must be doing something right!
The following two days take us out of Switzerland and across into the Italian Alps. We wave goodbye to our Swiss friends and shoot for the Italian border, but Switzerland hasn’t finished with us yet. We travel via the Lukmanier and San Bernardino Passes, the latter being a particular favourite of mine. If you park just before the summit and look back across the southern side, it looks like the ultimate go-kart track, draped across the mountainside – a giant playground for anything on four wheels, or two. I can’t resist turning the Elise around and dropping back in, like a skateboarder dropping into a halfpipe. One. More. Time.
We reach the Italian border at an altitude of 8,200 feet on the Umbrail Pass – the narrow, twisty, northern route towards the summit of Stelvio. The smooth tarmac of Switzerland gradually turns to something more akin to our local roads of the Peak District – our shock absorbers working a little harder and our steering wheels twitching with increased energy as the cars skip over the cracks and bumps in the road.
This is the final climb to the top and the cars are starting to complain, their engines working harder than ever before in the rapidly thinning air. The foliage thins out, replaced by a lunar-like landscape. Snow-tipped peaks draw closer, and the summit draws into view – a huddled collection of gift shops and guesthouses, flanked by rows of adventure bikes, hardened cyclists and a smattering of performance cars, all making their pilgrimage to this tarmacked mecca.
Our accommodation for the night sits at the very top of this cluster of human activity. An unusual, temple-like structure which looks like it’d be more at home on Mount Everest – the aptly named ‘Tibet Hut’. With unparalleled views across the eastern side of the Stelvio Pass and its endless switchbacks, it’s the perfect place to drink in the wonder of this place over a hot meal and a cold beer.
Staying at the top of Stelvio also affords another key benefit: empty roads. Past dusk, there is barely any through traffic, which means the only people up here are the ones who are ‘in for the night’ (most of whom are already in the bar). Cue some late-night frolics on the highest paved road in the Eastern Alps.
We stop to take some sunset photos on a closed section of the road, cut off by falling rocks. But as the sun dips below the horizon, the temperature plummets and an eerie silence descends. The mountains are closing in and my thoughts turn back to those poor souls sent here to fight for their lives in the trenches. Time to call it a night.
The next morning, we descended the 48 hairpins on Stelvio’s eastern face, returning back to warmer climes and lower altitudes. Our cars breathe a sigh of relief as we leave the brutal, unforgiving terrain behind and move further east, through Northern Italy and towards our next destination, the Dolomites.
We grab a quick pitstop in Bolzano, hometown of Romano and Elisa Artioli, and catch-up with Matthias – Elisa’s racing driver boyfriend. Unfortunately, Elisa isn’t around (she’s busy running one of her ‘Delightful Driving’ tours in France) but once again we receive a warm welcome from our European friends. Unfortunately, Matthias drives a Porsche, but we’ll allow him honorary membership of the Lotus community, given his connections!
Unfortunately, by the time we reach the Dolomites, the tourist traffic is in full flow, meaning a more sedate pace for this leg of the journey. We travel clockwise around what’s known as the ‘Sella Ring’ – a collection of passes encircling the distinctive, plateau-shaped Sella Group massif. As well as the eponymous Sella Pass, the route takes in the Gardena, Campolongo and Pordoi Passes – a beautiful collection of roads, snaking their way through stunning scenery in this popular skiing and cycling destination.
We make a mental note to revisit this part of the world at a more unsociable time of day and press on, to our overnight stop in the small village of Malga Ciapela, at which point the heavens open. Thunderstorms are common here and when the weather turns, it turns quickly. We’re thankful that our summer tyres have made it to our hotel car park just in time.
As dawn breaks, so does the storm. On damp but drying roads we pivot our cars northwards, to cross the Alps one last time. Destination: the Grossglockner High Alpine Road, Austria. Built in the 1930s, the Grossglockner is a truly remarkable feat of engineering, with a unique link to the automotive industry. One day after its opening, in 1935, it hosted its first hill climb race, dominated by Alfa Romeo and Ferrari. To this day, the Grossglockner is a ‘go-to’ testing location for car manufacturers the world over. Its consistent gradients, smooth surface and magnificent mix of corners provide an ideal testing environment for all kinds of vehicles.
As we approach the road’s 8,000 feet summit, a familiar shape comes into view. A lone Lotus Emira V6 parked by the roadside, covered in sensors and battle scars. We can’t resist taking a closer look. Before long we’re joined by a second Emira, an i4, and the drivers of these test mules hop out to say hello. We can’t believe our luck.
It turns out Lotus has been there all week, battling the mountain’s relentless wet weather in order to run some final tests on Hethel’s last petrol-powered car. They wax lyrical about the Grossglockner and fill us in on the Emiras, but then turn their attention to the three green Elises. “The perfect car for these roads!” they enthuse, with more than a glint of nostalgia in their eyes. They even ask for a selfie with the Cups.
Both drivers jump back in their cars and roar off into the mist for another run. The raucous bark of the V6 and the frantically spooling turbo of the i4 fill the mountain air. It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it. On that note, we realise it’s time for us to leave the mountains and begin our descent. One last alpine rollercoaster ride, before we wave the high peaks – and Austria – goodbye.
The following two days take us west along the Deutsche Alpenstraße (German Alpine Road), a pleasant, meandering route through southern Bavaria and the foothills of the Alps, before travelling northwards on Germany’s famous, derestricted autobahns. We still have one final destination to tick off before we head home, so we keep the pedal to the metal wherever possible. I discover that 140 mph with the roof off isn’t conducive to either conversation or cap-wearing but we arrive at our final stop in Antwerp, Belgium, with plenty of time to spare.
To celebrate the end of our trip, our friends at Lotus Antwerp – Frédéric, Danielle and the rest of the team – have put on a BBQ for us at their amazing workshop. Packed with Lotus cars from every era – Elan to Eletre, and everything in between – this is a dreamland for any Lotus enthusiast.
Frédéric is a tour-de-force when it comes to Lotus knowledge, as well as the biggest seller of Eletre in Europe, but is also humble enough to pick up a pair of BBQ tongs and cook for us, long into the evening. For me, this is what makes the Lotus community so special. No airs and graces, no show, no pretence. Just good people who understand that less is more. We spend the rest of the night eating, drinking and sharing stories of our time in the mountains, until the sky grows dark and our glasses grow empty.
For me, the Alps are a place which has always evoked wonder. They represent adventure and freedom – a place to escape amongst its 77,000 square miles of awe-inspiring natural beauty. To have experienced it one more time, in a car as wonderful as the Elise, is the stuff childhood dreams are made of.
Thank you Europe, thank you Elise, and thank you to every Lotus owner we met along the way. Until next time…
