The home of Napoleon Bonapart; luxury beach island; these were about the old things I knew about Corsica prior to going. My sister had visited the island during the (Northern hemisphere) summer during 2012, and it looked superb. My partner was coming to visit for 3 weeks during the (Northern hemisphere) winter and once I had the idea of a Christmas gift of a Corsican tour, there was no turning back. We set of on January 2nd, 2013 and returned 7 days later on January 8th. We flew from Orly Airport with Air France to Bastia. During the winter, most airports on the island except Bastia and Ajaccio close, and we went to Bastia as it was less expensive. We left a fresh Paris (about 4 or 5 degrees C) and arrived to a much nicer 12ish degrees. In mid-winter, this is about the standard temperature at sea level, with nice days getting up to about 16, which is much more agreeable than the negative temperatures on the mainland. We hired a car for the week, with AVIS as they had reasonable prices and snow tyres were included in the price, which are required by all companies for driving in winter. After picking up the car, I got into the “wrong” side of the car and prepared for my first experience driving on the other side of the road.

View Corsica in a larger map

Day one: The north/north-east

The highway from the airport to Bastia was very deceptive, as it was new and it good condition, coaxing you into believing that the roads are both new and good. Additionally, there was order on the road, so when we reached Bastia, we were not prepared for the complete chaos that awaited us. It turns out driving in Corsican cities means there is no rules. I will give examples to illustrate the point. It is perfectly acceptable to double/triple park your car, even if this results in completely blocking the road system, and just pop out to grab a coffee. If you are at a stop sign, and you cannot safely turn out into traffic, be prepared for someone to come from behind you, drive on the wrong side of the road and just forcefully merge into traffic, often with screeching brakes. It turns out this is the only way to enter traffic. Oh, and you are allowed to park anywhere at any time. Needless to say the first few hours were pretty darn stressful.

As we were to circumnavigate the island, we decided to go counter-clockwise, meaning the north tip was our first destination. We wanted to find some accommodation up there to stay the night, but the place we had booked in Macinaggio was closed over the winter for renovations, which they told us only a few days before departing. So we ended up staying in San-Martion-Di-Lota, just outside of Bastia, meaning our trip was a loop. We headed straight up the coast and followed the highway which turns inland at Macinaggio. Not long after this we turned off to a town we saw in the hills which looked like a typical Corsican town, namely perched atop some hills in this almost Spanish style. This was our first experience with what would eventually become the normal style of road: a single car width, two lane road in a state of disrepair. Littered with serious potholes and sporadically dispersed speeding Corsicans. We arrived at the town Quercioli where we got out to have a walk. It was not the nicest town by any means, but I think we wanted to get out and about. We ended up at a nice ruined church/cathedral atop a hill, but we had to trespass through a convent to get there, so prepare for some smiting. Back in the car, we found a route to get out to the north tip, a town called Barcaggio. It was pretty serious driving to get there, but the towns along the way were pretty. There was not much at the top though, a small port and an island. We followed the road along to Tollare, which warranted driving into the carpark, doing a u-turn and driving out. We headed south down the western side of the tip, found some lookouts but nothing mind-blowing. We returned to our accommodation, and ended up having dinner there – which turned out to be a phenomenal restaurant with a really nice waiter who was really keen on South Australian wine and guided us through some Corsican wine and food.

Day two: To Calvi

Road works on the road outside the hotel led a timely checkout, then it was off to Calvi via the inland route. Driving through Bastia to go west was again a pain and we followed the signs, which turned out to be our undoing. It is here I should mention how important it is to have a good road map. We had the Michelan 345 1:150 000 map, which was fantastic, and I with its star system for attractions I will forevermore utilise them. We climbed via the roads to Serra di Pigno, which was really nice. There is a view over Bastia, but much nicer is the view of the hills to the west and all the mossy granite formations in the area. Along the roads around here there were just so many places to pull over and admire the landscape. Stunning mountains, coastline and villages are littered around everywhere. The next major stop was l’Île-Rousse via Saint-Florent, which was a little problematic to find a parking spot due to road works, but it is really worth it. One can only imagine what it would be like in summer, clear blue water and a nice beach. There is a beautiful point with a lighthouse and down on the water there is a ruined fishing house (or similar) which was ace to explore, although it was a tad windy. Back in town, it was just seedy. Without tourists, only the locals remained. There was a lot of people around 50 to 60, playing either boules or gambling (if not both), drinking both coffee and alcohol and making miscellaneous noises when one passed them – somewhat like a furby. Another problem one encounters during winter is that everything is closed. Only a few key shops in towns were open, which often was bad for us as we could never find places to have dinner. We had lunch at a pizza restaurant which was really seedy, but the pizza was okay. Then it was off to a lake in the mountains, which turned out to be a dam in the mountains, and was not nice at all. Luckily, on our way to Calvi, we went via a lookout near Col de Salvi. I don’t think I will ever forget going around the bend which allowed for us to see the view and impending sunset. It was the most spectacular sight I have ever seen. We ditched the car in a field and just stood in the middle of the road watching.

Col de Salvi. One of the prettiest things I have ever seen

In Calvi, we went to the citadel at dusk, which is an amazing place, but the place was just dead. We were literally the only people in the entire fortification, which is a little eerie. Dinner consisted of a few mandarins each as everywhere was closed, which thankfully was a practice that was not repeated.

Day three: The coast with the most

Not far from Calvi: the beginnings of Scandola

As soon as we left Calvi, things really started to move to the next level. We had purchased an auxiliary cable, so we could listen to music without a ludicrously stupid USB control interface provided by the car stereo. We also purchased litre bottles of drinking yoghurt and biscuits. Shortly after, things were taken up even higher by the landscape. The stretch of coast between Calvi and Ajaccio is definitely one of the highlights for me. The national park Scandola is the jewel in the crown, however it is only accessible by sea and tours do not run in winter. Still, we were more than content with what was on offer. We stopped in the township of Porto where we had intended to stay, but nothing was open and in retrospect it was lucky. It was pretty, but nothing was open. Interestingly, there were a lot of eucalyptus trees in this area, including some mountain ash. The coast and the mountains are inseparable here, with imposing peaks right up to the shore. The Calanches of pink granite are really a sight to behold. We descended to a beach pebbled with pink granite, right on Anse de Ficajola, but when the map and road signs warns of a dangerous road in Corsica, this means something else. If you suffer from any height related fears, I would highly advise against descending, particularly in summer and there are lots of cars! More than just that road, the roads in this entire area were probably the most treacherous of the island.

We soon found ourselves arriving in Ajaccio, the birthplace of Napoleon. It was the first “big city” since Bastia and I hated every minute I was there. The traffic was terrible, the road system was illogical and it just didn’t click. I am sure if you had some time there you could came to like the place, but we spent as little time there as possible. We went to the Les Sanguinaires, a set of 4 islands off the most westerly point, which would be the first time (of a few times) that we would just miss the sunset, but see the sky in its red/purple glory. There is a beautiful tower alongside the raw coastline, which was really nice to explore until it was dark. We found a really nice Corsican restaurant, in which the owner thought we were Canadians, as we spoke French with funny accents. But she was delightful and gave us the local traditional liquor on the house.

Day four: From Bonepart to Bonifaccio

We left bright and early to head to the most southerly point of the Island and by extension, France, excluding foreign territories. We went first to Propriano, which is a nice seaside village and then out to the pointe de Campomoro. It was a long drive for about 10-15km and the fact the weather was deteriorating was not aiding the situation. We arrived, and walked up to the tower, which for getting there was okay, but the tower itself was so exposed. We were both having a lot of trouble just staying upright. We had no method of communicating and we being battered by sand in the air. The violent weather made for some large waves which crashed fiercely into the rugged coast, but after about 30 minutes, it became hard to bear, so we left. The road then headed inland so there was not so much coast to see, and the mountains really began to flatten out. It is here one finds the identifiers of the old Corsican civilisation; namely in the 6000 BC region. The theory is that some people from what is not the UK managed to get over to the island, most likely getting stuck there and then starting a new colony. There are stone alignments along with shelter like structures, but they were for housing the recently departed, not the living (apparently).

The southern coast was again different in landscape, with the granite being traded for sandstone and then eventually limestone. Bonaffacio is perched atop the cliffs in a manner that almost defies logic. Since the original town, a large amount of erosion has occurred making for an amazing sight. We explored the town, again by ourselves and just after missing the sunset. Luckily, we managed to find a bar and had some dinner and a few well deserved beverages.

Someone pretending to be a monolith — *Someone* pretending to be a monolith

Day five: Beaches!

We began the day with a cliff top walk, which was just amazing! The cliffs are high, the water so blue, Sardinia is just a throw of a stone away; it is some nice country. Unfortunately, throughout the duration of our walk, the wind just kept on picking up, and after an hour or so, we could not exchange many words are we could barely hear each other. Then it was back to the road; our final destination for the day was Solenzara, midway up the east coast. The stretch between Bonifaccio and Porto-Vecchio is renowned for its beaches, and it did not disappoint. Even though it was not that many degrees above zero, and we were in our big winter jackets, we found ourselves marvelling at the beauty of Rondinara beach. The turquoise water was crystal clear, there was bright white sand and not a person around. We spent about an hour just relaxing; I was brave enough to go in the water up to my knees but that was more than enough. The phrase “fresh” springs to mind.

A short drive up the road was Porto-Vecchio, whose claim to fame (at the time) was that it was to be the starting point for le tour de France in 2013. The banners around town let you know that was happening. It was a quaint village and we had a tasty burger with some local youths. From there we headed up into the Alps. The route was more-or-less toward Zonza, and it was just stunning. The weather was clear, enhancing the previously obscured view of the Alps. We stopped at the Cascades de Piscia di Gallo, which were about a 40 minute walk down some pretty serious terrain, but totally worth it. The waterfall is a point source at the top due to a volcanic process whereby only a tiny chute is produced, and after erosion becomes a tunnel. The landscape was really different once again, heading to igneous rock with deep canyons, in a style that can only be described as “American”. We were both struck by the striking similarity of the landscape.

Then we continued to climb and really started to get some altitude, and with it, some real peaks. What one does not realise is how quickly the temperature drops with altitude. It was winter, so it should be cold, but due to the sea, the lowlands remain around 10 or so degrees, but within 10 minutes of climbing, we were in the negatives and snow was everywhere and the road was quite icy. The main peak in the area was Col de Bavella, which made for some good photographing and if we had a bit more time we would have climbed it, but the days just were not long enough! We descended back to the coast – which was only 10km away, making for some spectacular scenery – and arrived in Solenzara. In a phrase: “don’t go there”. The place we stayed required entering through a seedy TAB style pub (gambling machine oriented bar), which during the night became a super seedy disco which raged into the night and there people there were just plain obnoxious. The town consists of 3 shops, we had some average food and the highlight was leaving.

Day six: Gorgeous gorges

Near Zonza, we dabbled with the Alps, but now it was time for the real deal. Situated in the centre of Alps is the town of Corte. The drive took us past some amazing old bridges, but unfortunately, the closer we got to the Alps, the worst the weather got and it really peaked just as we arrived: no visibility, really heavy rain and a strong, gusty, ice-cold wind. We went for a drive in the area and found plenty of hill top villages but it was so miserable it was hard to do anything. Luckily the weather did clear up enough, so went to explore the many gorges in the area. These are really something else, deep cut and fast flowing, with valley floors usually around 600 m and peaks above 2000 m, usually rising in only a few hundred meters. We took an unmarked road along one for about 30 minutes until the road abruptly ended with a helicopter pad and a sign for a summer scout camp, but luckily the second try was much better. We drove until the snow got too deep to proceed without chains; we ditched the car and went walking next to the river. Few found some beautiful spots amongst the snow filled pine forest and for some time the clouds lifted allowing for the peaks to be viewed, even if it was quite brief. After walking ourselves out, we went to our lodgement. We had booked a hotel on-line, which looked really nice and was really well priced. We arrived to an open door, but no-one was there. There was simply a phone, saying “pick me up”. I did exactly this, and sure enough, someone answered, but sounded confused. 5 minutes later, someone appeared and after a brief discussion, it turns out we were the only ones in the entire hotel and that he was expecting us the following day due to some error between the booking site and his personal calendar. But it was no big issue. We ascended to our room, which was lovely and we just milled around for about an hour before going to get some dinner. We got into the lift, went to the ground floor and the doors opened and a “ding” signalled our arrival. It was then that we noticed a sound that was a little out of place: exaggerated moaning at an extraordinary volume. The sound promptly disappeared prior to our rounding of the corner to reach the reception desk and making eye contact with the only other individual in the building. Needless to say we could not stop laughing at the fact we had unintentionally waltzed in on the owner/receptionist watching pornography; I have never been able to quite make sense of the situation. I occasionally still chuckle about it. But we got some nourishment and returned for our rest, but the proprietor had conveniently disappeared before we returned.

Day seven: Coming full circle

We enjoyed a breakfast in the hotel in the morning, supervised by the proprietor and his wife, which was pretty tasty and then it was off to see the last of the island. It was the only “perfect” weather day we had, with blue skies all day and a very pleasant temperature. As we were staying in one of the gorges, the view of the surrounding area was breathtaking. We were staying in the Alps, heading north to visit some mountain towns and more gorges. We entered into a gorge on our way to Calacuccia, and this may have been my favourite; the rock formations we amazing and the view of the tallest peaks of the island just in front of you were very pleasant. The township was odd, mainly consisting of a large dam which also formed the main road through town. I also remember that in all the shadows, there was a thick layer of ice, which had melted in the sunny patches. During some photo taking, we were also swarmed by a herd of cows in the middle of the road. Such is the country. We then headed to Asco to do some hiking, and everything about this place was amazing. The tiny village, the old bridge (Pont Génois) and the country were just ace; it was a nice place to finish the main part of our adventure. Should you find yourself in the area wanting to see the old bridge and go for a walk, drive through the town and there is a turn off afterward, rather than adding 30-45 minutes for walking to/from the town.

A little hiking in some phenomenal country

Then it was back to Bastia. We stayed in the centre of town, which is just a nightmare. There are no advantages to doing so, so don’t do it.

The next morning, we dropped the car off at the airport; the guy did not even look at the car, he just signed it off. That is what I call doing your job with care. We got on the plane and returned to a white Paris (well, a white France) with one of the heaviest snowfalls of the winter occurring that day and for the following few days. Sights like that make the winters here worth it!

Corsica

To wrap this up, I want to summarise Corsica. Without a doubt the prettiest place I have been. The dynamic landscape is something that has to be seen to be believed. The hilltop villages with roads only just wide enough to fit your car thorough and any mistake will put you in an unhappy Corsican’s living room. Eating fresh Corsican mandarins; enjoying the local wine and cheese; the coastline; the beaches; the mountains; the crazy locals. The islands’ history has been tumultuous, shaping the attitude and lifestyle. Combined with the natural beauty of the island, it makes Corsica something worth experiencing.

Adventures