Reeds, mostly. That is the first thing you notice when you roll down to Les Grèves on the southern shore of Lake Neuchâtel: a soft wall of reed and willow between the fields and the water, with the Jura sitting long and blue on the far side of the lake. This stretch between Portalban, Gletterens and Chevroux belongs to the Grande Cariçaie, the biggest lakeshore marsh in Switzerland, and it only exists because people once moved an entire lake level.
In the late nineteenth century the First Jura Water Correction tamed the Aare and dropped Lakes Neuchâtel, Biel and Murten by a couple of metres. The old shallows fell dry, the marsh crept out onto them, and the archaeologists followed. Under the mud lay the posts of prehistoric lake villages, and the southern shore turned out to be thick with them; several belong to the UNESCO group of Alpine pile dwellings. At Gletterens there is a reconstructed village of thatched huts if you want to see what the Neolithic looked like in daylight rather than in a museum drawer.
The riding around here is gentle and agricultural rather than dramatic. Little roads cut through tobacco and vegetable fields of the Broye plain, tractors appear from nowhere, and the lake road links a string of harbour villages where the speed limit drops constantly. Ride it for the light, which is wonderful in the early evening when the low sun turns the reeds copper and the Jura goes violet. In summer the mosquitoes come out at the same moment, so keep the visor down when you stop by the water. Wind can come across the lake surprisingly hard, and the Joran, the cold evening wind off the Jura, is well known to sailors here.
Nature is the real show. The Cariçaie is a stopover and nesting ground for an absurd number of birds, from great crested grebes to marsh harriers, and the paths and observation hides are made for walking boots, not bikes, so park at a harbour and wander for twenty minutes. Fuel is not in the hamlets: head to Estavayer-le-Lac with its fine medieval old town, or to Domdidier and Avenches, where the Roman amphitheatre of Aventicum makes a fine excuse for a second stop. Across the water on the Mont Vully slopes they grow a light white wine that tastes very good with lake perch, which every harbour café along this shore will happily put in front of you.