We got through security and into the departure lounge with no time for the breakfast for which we had hoped. Air France today has responded to the low price fares by not doing meals and we just got a glass of orange juice and a biscuit before Paris. On arrival we decided we would get to Orly before eating. The Air France bus did not arrive for some time and then took some time to depart just after. On the periferique, traffic was slow in places and I began to get a bit concerned that we would be late. As it was we got to Orly check-in with a little time to spare. Once in the departure lounge we only had time for a toilet break and buy a couple of sandwiches before we were called to board.
The flight to Bastia was quite pleasant; the flight through southern France was bordered on the east by the Alps, the snow caps looking glorious in the spring sunshine. Shortly after this we flew over what I guess may have been Nice and as we reached the Mediterranean, started our descent to Bastia. Our approach crossed the island at the bottom end of the Cap Corse. We appeared to fly through the middle of a gap in the hills, the lighthouse on the hill nearest me appeared to be almost level and only a few hundred feet from our wingtip. It was quite an impressive bit of flying.
We collected our car and found we had been allocated a megane, which was very nice but the checkout inspection was pretty cursory and we had to point out some damage. We were then left without any instruction on usage. The key was a card which had been left in the car and pressing the start button did nothing. I found that we had to remove then replace the card, press the footbrake and press start. Once under way, at the first roundabout momentary panic as I couldn't find the gearstick. Unsurprising really as I was searching for it with my left hand somewhere in the door pocket.
We made it to Bastia relatively uneventfully, although one or two locals did make the mistake of thinking they could mess with me – and I can behave like a frenchman when necessary! We found our Hotel quite easily but were told they had no reservation in our name!! Fortunately they did have a room available for the 4 nights we required, so all was sorted.
We found a nice little restaurant for our meal, for which we were very ready. Then back to the hotel and an early bed.
Most of the village is pedestrianised and we parked up and walked down to the harbour where there is a Genoese Tower. The wind here was very fierce at times so we didn't linger too long but took some nice photos of the tower and the little harbour.
The route down the west coast proved no easier but we were more than compensated by the increase in the number of 'Oh wow' moments, with the sun bouncing off the turquoise blue water and the roofs of the little villages, it was stunning.
At Pino we took a sharp left hand turn off the main road to cross back over the top of the island. This road was in even worse condition for the first few kilometres, then magically it became a real road of good width with an excellent tarmac surface. We stopped at col de Santa Lucia and parked up. The wind here seemed less fierce, so we decided to go for a walk up to the tour de Seneca.
The N198 passes high over the mountains again from Bonifaccio heading west before winding North. At the furthest point west you look down into the Cala di Roccapina and across to the rock formation of the Lion de Roccapina Rocher.
It had come as a surprise to us that Napoleon was actually from the aristocracy; we saw the house in which he was born, the font in the Cathedral where he was christened and the very exotic house of his childhood friend, Pozzo di Borgo just round the corner. Pozzo ended up opposing Napoleon, fighting with (on the same side) Wellington at Waterloo. Apparently Napoleon was not very keen on Corsica but it appears that although he was unfriendy to them, the Corsicans enjoy his fame – or should that be notoriety?
Driving out of Ajaccio to Cortège, we saw many beautiful sea and landscapes; at this time of the year and in the sunshine, it is absolutely captivating. Amplified, it has to be said by the icing sugar coating that many of the high peaks have recently acquired and which were disappearing under the sun. It is not stretching the imagination too far to see how in peak season, others (in huge numbers) would be attracted too. Though for my taste the numbers would destroy the very reason for going in the first place. Arriving in Cortège, just before 4pm, we successfully booked in to the St Jean Hotel, then went walkabout in the (little) town. We first went to see the two churches, one Roman, the other Orthodox, facing each other on opposite sides of a little valley. Conundrums that have often struck me is that one of the commandments is that images shouldn't be worshipped yet both churches had many – and both churches had extensive and very good trompe l'oeil; in one sense one has to admire the artisanal artistry to achieve this; in another sense, the image is pretending to be something it isn't.
We walked down to the quite delightful and unspoiled harbour (even if there were a couple of pizza emporia) and marvelled once again at the perfect clarity of the water. The walk back up the hill proved to be rather more effort and gave us an appetite. The restaurant below the hotel provided us with a thoroughly enjoyable meal.
From the Tete de Chien the road winds its way down to the village of Porto and from there we made our way inland into the mountains to see the Genoese bridge at Ota before heading up past Evisa towards the Col de Verghio.
The bar in which we had dinner had some very nice music on and we asked for a note of the band and album as it appeared to contain some polyphonic singing for which Corsica is famous.
On the way back down, I managed to stop, get out my camera, change lens and capture a kite before it disappeared over the hill. It was a wonderful moment, even if the shot wasn't. We drove on to Monticello, which was a pleasant enough village with the usual bog-standard lovely vistas but fairly unremarkable apart from the fact that Frank Muir had a place here.
We came down from the mountains a bit like Moses but without the tablets of stone, although with the way the local drivers hog the road, we could well have collected some embedded in the car (stone tablets that is).
Our tour then took us along the coast road before turning off to cross the Desert des Agriates before almost completing our circuit of the island at St Florent. The compulsory tortuous road through this contained its usual level of attention demand but the scenery was quite remarkable. It was like a lunar landscape with bushes. Although on our trips around the island, there have been relatively few occasions when the speed limits could be safely exceeded, I have never been temped – it struck me on one or two of the straight stretches on the Desert that I could exceed 90kph, I was reminded of Ollie's experience and was sure that a gendarme would triumphantly appear from behind a bush having waited a week for a passing car. (He would have filled his book in under an hour on the main road).
By mid-afternoon, the clouds that have constantly shrouded the mountain tops over the last week had dissipated. So hopefully the change in the weather will mean that we should be able to complete the things we want to do in the centre of the island over the next few days.
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