Maggie has already posted a preliminary blog
here, but neither of us has written much since we got back on Wednesday night. A ten-day techno-holiday kind of takes the blogging juice out of you, and since we didn't have a computer, I sent exactly one email during our ten days in Corsica, letting my folks know we were having fun and asking them to pass the news on to Maggie's parents.
Those who have travelled with me may remember that since I first visited my parents in Europe in 2004, I have kept a journal of my experiences and reflections. These little notebooks come in very handy when I wish to be reminded of the exact date of an event, or my thoughts at the time, and their back pages are usually covered with important addresses, train schedules, packing lists and so on. At present I'm in the midst of filling the eighth volume, so of course this served as my analogue blog, or
anablog, I suppose one could call it. No batteries, no internet connection required, just a steady supply of Moleskine pocket-size notebooks, and a steady flow of Conway Stewart brown ink.
I thought I would share a few excerpts from this anablog, dealing with our adventures since leaving Brussels by plane last Saturday, July 25th.
Sunday, July 26th.
9h10. Wow, what a stressful day yesterday. Lots went very well, but we did run into some trouble at one point, getting into a weird washed-out road, and then, after escaping from 9 km of that, getting a flat tire!
The campsite here is very nice: the mobile homes remind me a bit of holidaying with my Grandma when I was a kid. We're going to do a quick shopping and then I'll drive down to the airport to return the car, and take the bus back here.
14h. @*&%$! I made it to the rental place on time but this is a comedy of errors... the bus to Porto Vecchio was full, so I'm on the bus that goes first to Bonifacio... arrgh, this is a special, poetic kind of hell: stuck on a Corsican bus, going the opposite direction to where I want to go, with Celine Dion on the radio... yes, Celine, I know your @#$@ing heart will go on!!! Can this possibly get any worse?
14h20. Oh yes it can. "Do you believe in life after love? I really don't think I'm strong enough, nooooooooo".
14h55. The last bus to Ghisonacchia left at 14h; the driver says he'll take me a few kilometers up the road, but that I shouldn't have too much trouble hitch-hiking the 65 kilometers or so to the resort.
Monday, July 27th.
17h10. I've been here at the beach by myself for the last hour or so. Maggie is going to pick up the kids from their programmed activities, so I've had some decompression time this afternoon; I needed it after yesterday.
I made it home by 17h30. Three rides: one by the bus drive for perhaps 10 km, then another fifteen by a very nice Parisian couple who were going to Favona, and the last 40 km or so by a French hiker on his way to meet his son at a "refuge" or hostel up in the mountains. I stopped at the Spar store on for some groceries and walked the rest of the way.
This place is really quite lovely and I greatly appreciate the calm and quiet. The beach isn't too crowded, with beautiful views of the mountains to the south.
23h30. Well we had a very funny time tonight. Duncan got on very well with O., a little girl about his age whose parents are both teachers in London; Joe of English and Ros of French and German. They are really very nice, and O. had drawn a special picture of Duncan, whereupon he reciprocated with a drawing of his own. The kids played badminton in the little roadway this evening before Maggie and I took over a big wedge of Roquefort and a Boursin, and a bottle of rosé, and we worked through it and a bottle of theirs while we talked. What floored me was that first Ros had managed to pick out the Canadian, and in fact even the Toronto
accent, and secondly, once our non-American citizenship had been established, that Joe asked me about The Kids in the Hall.While visiting with these entertaining neighbors I realized that from a cinematic point of view we were providing a clear illustration of How the English Socialize
: four people talking loudly and laughing uproariously, downing big tumblers of rosé, clustered around a candle and a big chunk of runny blue cheese, and at the "cabin" behind were four French campers, quietly sitting under their porch light to share in a hand of cards, four identical columns of smoke from four identical cigarettes rising above their whispered conversation. It struck me as quite funny!
Thursday July 30th19h48. We had a very great day today and just finished a very enjoyable chat with Frederic and Agnes and their two daughters C. and J. They are from Toulouse and came here on the ferry. Frederic has offered to take us shopping in town tomorrow as we have no car at the moment. In a few moments we'll head over to Eric and Sylvie's; they are from Bordeaux, and have a son, A. who is fourteen and quite fond of card tricks.
I must say that any sense that the French are anything other than extremely helpful and sociable is completely unfounded; our neighbors are very eager to meet us and to share aperos, and so far Maggie isn't at all upset or embarassed at my tendency to make friends and socialize. Quite the contrary she is doing a lot of the talking! Her French is developing every day we spend here, as is mine, although we both have started to mimic the Provençale accent a little bit, adding an -eng sound to the end of words like bien and pain.
Saturday, August 1st
18h. In Solenzara. Duncan is asleep in the back seat, Malcolm listening to his iPod. We stopped to get some fever medication for D. who seems not to be himself. Today was spent getting the car, shopping, including a visit to the poissonerie to get four different fish (Dorade, Dentelle, Loup de Mer and Racie) which we will grill, followed by a trip up into the mountain pass of Bavella. The first stop there was a pool where we could jump off into the deep cool water; next we carried on to some pools and cataracts that were incredible to swim in. There was even a natural waterslide!
Monday, August 3rd
15h24. At "Le Royal" pizzeria in Bonifacio for our first and last lunch out as a family. This city is fantastic. The limestone/chalk cliffs are weathered in a beautiful way. We had to climb all the way to the top of the citadel, and the view was spectacular.
This morning we went on a tour of the whisky distillery (the only one in Corse) for a free degustation of three varieties, including a single malt; they also had good charcuterie
and cheeses, and honey and confiture
. We got samples of these to take back to Brussels, then hit the road to come here, a journey of perhaps an hour and a half.
The time in the car was well worth it; I wish we had more time to explore this wonderful city, which I understand has been inhabited for some thousands of years, and seems to greatly resemble one mentioned in Homer's Odyssey
.
Afterwards we drove back north, and took a bad, twisty road that looked like it belonged in a roadrunner cartoon to La Rondinara,
a circular bay with crystal-clear water and a white sand beach.
After a quick dip we came home to finish packing up for our departure tomorrow. Our very generous neighbors Frederic and Agnes are going to drive us the 75 km or so to the airport and then continue on to Bonifacio themselves.
So that's the skeleton of our trip to Corsica: no bandits, and only a few problems to deal with. Overall it was very restful, and we're still kind of in holiday mode here. Maybe Maggie will fill in a few more blanks in her next blog, after we've sorted through the approximately 500 photos we took. As for me, today was a day of internet banking, email sorting, and planning for the next couple of seasons, including some emails to agents and opera companies. And a gin and tonic, of course; after all, it is summer!
Bonnes Vacances!
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