The Matterhorn has the most recognisable shape of any mountain on Earth, and Zermatt sits at its feet, gazing up. It is a village of about six and a half thousand in the upper Mattertal, at 1,600 metres, hemmed in by 4,000-metre peaks, and it is the one resort in Switzerland where the main streets are quiet because petrol vehicles are banned. Small electric taxis and carts hum along the lanes, and the air smells of woodsmoke, pine and horses.
The mountain itself is a pyramid of grey and rust-coloured rock, 4,478 metres high, a steep and unmistakable fang. The first ascent, in July 1865, was by a party led by Edward Whymper, and on the way down four of the seven climbers fell to their deaths, a disaster that shocked Victorian Britain and ended the first golden age of alpinism. Their story is told in a small museum in the village. A cemetery by the church holds the graves of many climbers, and a walk through it is a quiet lesson in what the mountains cost.
For a rider, Zermatt is a destination rather than a road, because you cannot ride in. The road ends at Täsch, a few kilometres short, where a large terminal car park and a shuttle train take visitors the last stretch. Leave the bike at Täsch and take the train, a short ride, then walk up through the village. The Mattertal itself is a spectacular approach, a narrow valley road from Visp with tunnels, galleries and steep rock walls, and the lower Rhône valley around Visp has the nearest main fuel stations. Check the Täsch parking rules for motorcycles before you go.
Once in Zermatt, take the Gornergrat railway, a rack line opened in 1898 that climbs to 3,089 metres in half an hour for views over the Gorner glacier and the whole ring of 4,000-metre summits. Eat Älplermagronen, the Swiss mountain version of macaroni and cheese, or raclette melted from the wheel. Mornings are clearest, since cloud often builds around the Matterhorn by afternoon, and in autumn the larches turn gold. Summer is crowded, and prices are high.