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The island of birth for 'Le petit caporal' and the roots of Bernard Nobili

a travel blog by rickandsuejohnson

I met Bernard at a seminar in Bordeaux in 1996 and found a kindred spirit. We corresponded from time to time and visited each other. Two years ago, we arranged to have a holiday together on the island of his roots on which he spent much of his childhood holidays, to which he returned regularly and wanted to introduce us; sadly Bernard died last year before it could be fulfilled. This trip is dedicated to his memory and to Daniele who soldiers on.
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The snow road to cascade

Vizzavone, France


Thumbs up for Les Cascades
The clocks springing forwards this morning meant that we weren't away until just after 10:00 for our much looked forward to trip to Les Cascades des Anglais. It acquired this soubriquet when it became a required picnic spot for wealthy English on their Grand Tour of Europe.


Parking up by the Auberge at the start of the walk to Les Cascades Des Anglais
The N193 from Corte is a main road but even this had been closed by snow last week; we hoped with the good weather of the last few days, this wouldn't be a problem. Sure enough, the road was clear and with temperatures in the teens, we were able to make good time as the road made its circuitous route around the mountains. The guide book had suggested using a car park opposite an Auberge. Well the Auberge was closed and the car park had over a foot of snow on it, so we couldn't use that! I daresay that our Canadian family would think little of this but I haven't seen so much snow in a long time. I am sure that it was of a type with which I am not familiar, as well – it did not behave as British snow. We found somewhere to leave the car and braced ourselves for the walk. Getting to the path was the first challenge! Over the bank of snow that had been ploughed off the road. You created a base for your foot by carefully pressing the snow down about 4 inches and if it packed tight, put your weight on it. This was OK except very occasionally, once your whole weight was on it, it would suddenly give and your foot sank down a couple of feet, collecting snow in the tops of your socks as you pulled out. Ideally we would have worn snow shoes but we didn't bring any and couldn't be bothered trying to find some.

The snowy track to the Cascades
With waterproof footwear, we reckoned we would be OK anyway. The walk is supposed to take about 30 minutes each way but having to cope with the snow and the terrain – not knowing what would happen when you put your weight on each foot, it made the walk a lot longer and harder. It took us an hour to reach the cascades and a bit more to get back. But it was worth the effort; stunning is a word we have probably overused on the blog; even Grandpa M would probably have agreed that it was fantastic.

Cascades des Anglais
The scenery, the stillness beyond the constant thrum of the water cascading down the river bed, the glorious sunshine, the colours with light dappling the scene through the trees, the clear air and water and the scrunch of snow underfoot all assailed the senses. In over two hours of walking, we met three people; I'm sure that it is very different in summer and we felt really privileged to have it to ourselves. We got back to the car thoroughly exhausted, exhilarated and a little damp of foot.

Views from the walk to Les Cascades Des Anglais
After a bit of rehydration we drove on to Bocognano to give some thought seeing the Bridal Veil Falls – a quick recce suggested that though there was no snow, it would be a bit of a scramble, so we popped into the convenient village bakery for a late snack before returning to Corte.

Views of Mountain Peaks including Monte D'Oro

We decided to go to the same eatery as last night; it is not the most promising exterior and it means going underground. The restaurant is a simple, basic no frills sort of a place but it has an excellent traditional Corsican menu, beautifully cooked and with very cheerful and good service. Above all it is very good value. Look out for Orenga de Gaffroy on the left heading towards the citadel from the Hotel du Nord about 100 metres up.

More Peaks near Vizzavona

permalink written by  rickandsuejohnson on March 31, 2008 from Vizzavone, France
from the travel blog: The island of birth for 'Le petit caporal' and the roots of Bernard Nobili
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On little villages, donkeys and coy mountains

Aleria, France


Santa Lucia Di Mercurio
Leaving Corte we decided to follow one of the routes highlighted in the Lonely Planet “Exploring the Boziu”. A little north of the town we took the D41 heading east and winding and climbing high into the mountains. From Santa Lucia Di Mercurio the view of the valley and Corte in the distance is wonderful. The route leads you through several isolated villages before dropping down to the main road, the N200.

First Corsican Donkey
We spotted our first Corsican donkey in Bastanico.

Half way between Corte and Aleria we stopped to look at a lovely Genoese bridge.


Genoese Bridge


Wild Flowers on the Beach
From Aleria we headed south on the N198 picnicing at another deserted beach to the east of Ghisonaccia with the most amazing wild flowers growing in the sand. It was hot and sunny but large amounts of cloud were swirling around the mountains where we were headed. We turned off the main road at Solenzara and started the ascent. It was a balmy 8º where we had been forced to turn around the previous week, so we were hopeful that we would be able to make the Col de Bavella (1218m). We did make it but so did the clouds!!! Rick managed to catch a few glimpses before the weather really closed in and we descended in rain to retrace our steps for a night in Aleria.

Glimpses 0f Col de Bavella

permalink written by  rickandsuejohnson on April 1, 2008 from Aleria, France
from the travel blog: The island of birth for 'Le petit caporal' and the roots of Bernard Nobili
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Ruined City, Impossible Villages and no ices

Aleria, France

Still suffering from a bit of time change malady and a warm night, we were slow getting underway this morning. However, after a trip across the road to Super U, we had the basics for a snack lunch and hit the road.

Plan of Roman City
First we went up the hill outside Aleria to the old Roman settlement, arriving at about 11, noting that the site of the city closed at 11.30 and the museum closed at 12.00, thought that we should see the city first. However, the museum curators from whom we got a ticket suggested that we saw the museum first; I don't suppose that this had anything to do with them being able to get off to lunch first! The museum had all sorts of artefacts from digs, going back through Roman, Etruscan, Phoenician and Greek periods to the Iron and Bronze ages, with some impressive pieces. The Roman ruins were interesting, but as we were late and as they had just locked up, allowed us 10 minutes which at least gave us a bit of a flavour; although supposedly representing the major city on the island, they were not of the scale of Viriconium, although they were possibly slightly more intact.

We made our way to the beach just north of Aleria and had our picnic lunch, closely observed by two local mutts, who finally got bored with the two bloody tourists who didn't get the message and made a pointed exit.

We then made for the hills for one last time, going through the quite pretty villages above Aleria; visiting Cervione, Cascades de Lacelluline and St Nicolao, finishing up at Moriani plage. It was a wonderful drive, with some suitably exciting bits of scenery and incredibly narrow roads (I have concluded that the white line down the middle is simply to show where the middle is, so that if you don't stray from this, you won't fall off the edge)! The main road through Cervione is remarkable for the fact that it is built onto the rock face on supports.

Wonderful parking
It was also remarkable at the time for the demonstration of the Corsican approach to parking (leave the car where you want, even if there is no space for it); the cars were left for at least the whole for the whole of our visit (¾ hr).
The road from there to St Nicolao runs past the cascades de Lacelluline, which are really spectacular, falling down past the road which runs over a bridge and between two tunnels constructed in around the beginning of the 20th C for the pack mule tracks.
We ended up at Moriani Plage, from where a Corsican Nationalist was deported in 1926. We had hoped to have an ice cream here as the temperatures all day had been in the high teens and were by now 20ºC. Unfortunately, as we were informed, the weather was still too cool for ice creams and we would have to wait for a week or two for it to warm up, so we had a cup of tea instead.

We got back to the hotel and a had a quiet beer on the terrace outside watching the sun slide into the horizon and remarked that we had hardly hoped that we would be able to have done such a thing a week ago. We reflected on what we might have done and what we haven't done and concluded that we have filled our time quite well – my one regret is that I have not recorded what appears to be a favourite Corsican passtime; shooting at roadsigns (I suppose it is a bit like taking them down at the end of a night's drinking and keeping them in your room). I don't know whether it is anti-establishment for Corsican seperatists, demonstrating their skills or simply taking the opportunity to loose off a couple of rounds but a well peppered sign is commonplace off the main roads. Our favourite was one of a warning sign of a cow with hole through the middle of the cow; either the shooter couldn't tell the difference between the real thing and a non-moving object or it was an excellent shot on a dark night from close range. Unfortunately, most of the signs with such battle wounds were spotted quite late on and without somewhere to stop – not that this would have worried the average Corsican!


permalink written by  rickandsuejohnson on April 1, 2008 from Aleria, France
from the travel blog: The island of birth for 'Le petit caporal' and the roots of Bernard Nobili
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Final images

Bastia, France

Up early so that we could be at the Airport in good time to hand the car back and deal with any suggestions that unaccounted dings had been added. In the event, we had a smooth run to the airport and the handin was uneventful – the recipient for Europcar had a look round, did his quick checks and said – impeccable. This is not quite how I would have described the car but it was good enough for me and I suppose in Corsican terms probably no more than accurate.

Leaving the Hotel Empereur was easy too – Monsieur le Patron was a delightful individual and had always made us feel welcome. Madame la Patronne was a slightly different animal – a female, gallic, Basil Fawlty. She appeared to rule the hotel with a rod of iron – everywhere was spotless, clinically so; there were notices in the room setting out the rules – food in the room is forbidden, 'absolument' and transgression meant immediate ejection! On the other hand, there were nice touches like a pack of notes on local things to do and sights to see. At the evening meal, she strutted amongst diners, taking and delivering orders with a brusque efficiency and economy that minimised the efficiency and maximised the economy – I had the temerity of asking for a couple of glasses for our wine that she had forgotten to give us; no apology, just a tutted delivery. On the morning of our first breakfast, we were a bit late down at 9:30 but well before the 10:00 deadline but she was clearly not amused. It was one of the hotels that actually offered cereal for breakfast but they clearly didn't expect anyone to eat it; there were no bowls. Asking her for a couple of bowls for the cereal was not a good idea, her initial clear displeasure with the approach was quickly followed by a huge Gallic shrug of indifference. (Perhaps she is descended from Marie Antoinette?) But she did bring cold milk, perhaps in an attempt to rub in that we should have been there earlier to get bowls so we resorted to eating out of cups! Her demeanour always suggested that keeping her Hotel nice for guests would be easy were it not for the idiots that kept checking in.

When we got back for our last evening, the parking area outside the hotel had one car already in place, next to the hotel, so we parked next to it. We got a call from reception a little later to move it to the side opposite the hotel. There was no explanation but we assumed it was to do with access. The next morning we discovered why there had been a bit of a panic; Madame parked her car along the wall next to the hotel!!


We had an almost brand new and very comfortable A321 for our flight out of Bastia, giving us lovely views over the city, the hills behind across Cap Corse to the sea on the other side and St Florent. The flight was possibly only 1/3rd full but with empty rows 2 rows in front and behind, we had a full row of 3 people! Having crossed the mountains over the Cap Corse, the starboard wing dipped and we just caught our last glimpse of the mountains of Corsica before heading out over the sea to France, cloud cover increasing all the way. Our trip across Paris was uneventful and our flight to Birmingham on a Bae 146 was a tight squeeze, being absolutely packed to the gunwales; still at least we didn't rattle!

We had a wonderful holiday in a beautiful country with very hospitable folk; thank you Bernard – without you, we would be unlikely to have discovered this little gem and thank you Daniele for your very useful itinerary.

permalink written by  rickandsuejohnson on April 3, 2008 from Bastia, France
from the travel blog: The island of birth for 'Le petit caporal' and the roots of Bernard Nobili
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