Neuchâtel looks across its lake from a long, gentle shoreline, with the Jura mountains rising behind and, on a clear day, the Bernese Alps floating above the far side like a distant promise. The town takes its yellowish tint from the local limestone, a warm honey colour in evening light, and its centre is a tidy lattice of old lanes between the castle and the lakefront. The castle and the Collegiate church sit together on a small hill above the old town, and it was from here that the counts, and later the Prussian kings, ruled. Neuchâtel was under the Prussian crown from 1707 until a republican revolution in 1848, a curious detail that explains its odd, independent character.
This is a town of watchmakers, scholars and wine. The hills along the lake are lined with vineyards, and the local white, made from Chasselas, is crisp and slightly spritzy, while the pale pink Œil de Perdrix is a regional curiosity. In the nearby Val-de-Travers, the absinthe once banned across Europe was distilled in secret and is now legal again, with a gentle smugness. Rousseau lived in the area for a while, and Le Corbusier was born a short way up the hill in La Chaux-de-Fonds.
As a riding base, Neuchâtel works nicely as either end of a day. To the north, roads climb up from the lake through the vineyards to the Jura plateau, with long, open curves, pastures and spruce, and the rolling uplands of the Val-de-Ruz and the Chaumont ridge are quiet and pleasant. Along the shore, the lake road toward Yverdon or Biel is flat and quick but busy. The Swiss vignette is needed for motorways, and you should assume speed cameras are common and tolerance is low.
Fuel, food and parking are all easy in a town of over thirty thousand, though central parking is metered. Lake fish, particularly perch fillets, are the dish to order, and the lakeside promenade makes a good place for a slow coffee before the climb into the Jura. In winter, be alert for ice on the high roads and fog on the lake.