Toussaint Vacation.....The Corsica Edition

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Finally, we arrive on the "ile de beaute". Here are all the stories you've been waiting for, and probably some you haven't!

The flight from Marsailles put us into Bastia at 10:10 or so. I’d done my research, and I knew that the last shuttle for Bastia from the airport was leaving at 11:00. If we missed it, there wouldn’t be any more. I also remembered from my last visit how flexible the Corsican time table is, so with Hamilton looking at me like I was insane, I insisted that we board the bus at 10:20 and wait. Sure enough, the bus pulls out of the parking lot, thankfully with us on it, at around 10:30.

Friday morning was Bastia, where we explored the Citadel, the old Port, and the Place St. Nicolas snapping photos like the shutter happy tourists that we are. We started out with gorgeous weather that thankfully continued through the whole trip. The one word to describe most of the towns in Corsica, (besides gorgeous, that is), is “steep”. That could refer to the prices of most accommodations and meals, but I mean it more in the sense that everything seems to be built either on top of or into a mountain. You constantly have the sensation that you’re Moses scaling Mt. Sinai.

That afternoon, we headed to the station to catch our train to Corte, which is in the center of Corsica and thus smack-dab in the middle of those aforementioned mountains. I’d been looking forward to the train ride all morning because taking the train in Corsica is unlike any other experience I’ve had in my life. Imagine, if you will, two conjoined tin sardine cans rattling their way along perilous mountain roads, mere inches from sheer cliff face, but all the while providing you with the most spectacular views you’ve ever seen in your life and the sensation that you’re flying. They usually have to stop and hose the train down at a few spots to keep it from overheating, but for the 20 euros from Bastia to Ajaccio, it’s the most breathtaking and complete tour of the Corsican landscape you’re likely to get. So we whizzed through the Maquis (thick brush and plants that cover most of the island), the Clementine groves, and pastures of goats and sheep on our way to the heart of the island.

If Bastia is small, Corte is Lilliputian. It’s essentially one street of restaurants, shops, and bars, and then one massive hill that leads up to the Citadelle. For future reference, I don’t think there are any towns in Corsica that don’t have a citadelle. It dates back to the Genoese occupation that lasted until the French took over near the end of the 18th century. There’s also a very tiny university in Corte that was founded by Pasquale di Paoli (more about him later). It was already pretty dark when we arrived and checked into the hotel, so we dropped our bags and went out to try and find a good restaurant with typical Corsican cuisine. Now, since Corsica depends so heavily on the tourism industry, lots of things like hotels and stores and restaurants shut down at the end of September and don’t open again until the late spring. I had a guidebook with several restaurant recommendations, but every one we tried seemed to be having its “fermeture annuelle” or yearly closing. We finally did find a cute little restaurant in the Place Paoli with a wood oven and stone walls where we were sitting elbow to elbow with our fellow diners. I had an omelet with Brocciu (Corsican cheese made with sheep’s milk) and mint, and Hamilton had chacuterie, which is basically a lot of different kinds of ham. For dessert, there was cake made with chestnut flour. Chestnuts are a huge food staple in Corsica, and Paoli once said “as long as we have chestnuts, we’ll have bread.” The Corsicans grind them into flour for baking, preserve them in alcohol, candy them in sugar, and cook them in stews. After the meal, we ended up talking for a good while with a family sitting one table over. They were from Toulon, but the dad had done his military service (back when it was a year and not just a day) in Corte.

So, by now I’m sure that most of you are wondering who this guy Paoli is that I keep going on and on about. Pasquale di Paoli was the great Corsican general (yes, there was another one besides Napoleon) who devoted his life to fighting for Corsican independence. He started a university, founded a national bank, raised an army and a navy, and helped unify a horribly schismatic country. Before Paoli, the Corsicans were so busy with there own little individual beefs about who had stolen their uncle’s cow 3 generations ago, that they couldn’t get any motivation going against their Genoese oppressors. James Boswell, the English writer who would later take on the epic biography of Samuel Johnson, went to Corsica in 1765 to interview Paoli, and sharpened his quill, so to speak, on documenting the General’s government. His work on his journey to the island helped raise awareness in England and Europe about the Corsican struggle, and Paoli became the representative of his people the world over. He chose Corte for the seat of his government, and the citadelle there has since been transformed into the Musee de la Corse, a museum of Corsican anthropology and history. On the outside of the museum is another Paoli quotation: “If liberty were obtained by mere desire, the entire world would be free.” The museum has several permanent exhibits on the history of sheparding, metalworking, money-printing, etc in Corsica, and we were lucky enough to catch their temporary exhibit on…..what else? My hero Pasquale di Paoli, of course! After we finished with the museum we were able to walk up and tour the citadelle, which afforded us some absolutely striking views of the mountains. I have to say that Corte was probably my favorite town we visited during our stay. Paoli and mountains, what more could I ask for?

The next day found us on the move again, headed for Ajaccio, birthplace of that other Corsican you might already know something about. Napoleon was born in Ajaccio, but he left when he was 9 years old. You can still go and tour his birthplace, which has been turned into a museum. Sadly, we couldn’t, because said museum was closed on Monday when we tried to go. We still managed to make the most of the beautiful weather and the beautiful city, though. Ajaccio is certainly the most “touristy” place we saw, but it’s not without charm. It has beautiful beaches and a cute little “old port” area. Sunday night, we walked around the town, then found a place to catch the sunset, which is always the main attraction of any day in Corsica. There’s nothing more perfect than watching the sinking sun hit the mountains, bounce of the unbelievable blue water, and then disappear from view, leaving the sky a wash of ochre, violet, and pinkish-orange. Before dinner, we went to a bar and had an aperitif. Hamilton tried Muscat, which is a sweet white aperitif wine produced in Corsica. At dinner that night I tried terrine de sangulier, or wild boar pate, which was very good.

The next morning Hamilton and I hit of the market at Ajaccio, which Christine had told me was really good. Since it was Monday, there weren’t as many vendors, but there were still a few. We were looking to buy some Corsican products to bring back to the states with us, since Corsica is most known for it’s jams, it’s chacuterie, it’s cheese, and above all, it’s booze. They make an incredible variety of alcoholic beverages there, and that’s where Hamilton and I almost got into trouble. We went to the market early, planning to buy some bread and fruit and such for breakfast once we got there. Hamilton also wanted to buy some Muscat like he’d had the other night, so we asked one of the vendor’s what she’s recommended. Well, she let us taste her favorite, and then another one she had. Then she had us sample an aperitif made of chestnuts, and one made of Myrte, which is a fruit of the Maquis that is very aromatic and like a super tart blueberry. She also had us try a red table wine, and was headed for the “eau-de-vies” or strong after-dinner liquors, when we told her thanks, but we’d tried enough. We didn’t think it was such a good idea to end up tipsy at 9:30 in the morning, before we’d even had breakfast. I ended up buying some figatellu to bring back to the Canterots, because Christine had told me she liked it. Figatellu is a liver sausage that can be prepared dry or fresh, and they were able to vacuum pack it for me for easy transport. I also bought some jam of arbouse, which is another fruit of the Maquis that has absolutely no English equivalent of which I am aware. The closest the woman could come up with was “coings”, which is another French fruit with no English equivalent. My other Corsican purchase was a keychain that reads (in Corsican) “often conquered, but never submissive”. The store owner seemed impressed that I could read it, but Corsican is almost like Italian, just with a lot of superfluous U’s thrown in, so I can thank Dr. Allen for my linguistic prowess.

After dropping our stuff back at the hotel, we went to the municipal library, built by Napoleon’s brother, where there was a neat exhibit on the history of the press in Corsica. We also went to the Grotte de Napoleon, where there’s a statue of the Emperor in military regalia, inscribed with all his military victories. (speaking of Napoleon, there’s a quotation by a Corsican comedian that says, more or less, “Napoleon was only half Corsican. He only ever crossed one arm”. This alludes to the rather “laissez-faire” attitude of the populace concerning just about everything). Anyhow, after the statue, we took a little hike (always UP of course) to the bois des anglais, which is a very pretty wooded area looking out from a breathtaking altitude over Ajaccio’s harbor. We finished up the day with some shopping and another amazing sunset before we headed out for one last “Corsican” meal. We went to a restaurant recommended by my book that miraculously wasn’t closed and had unbelievably affordable prices. The highlight of the meal was a local fish called Mostelle, cooked in a tomato and green peppercorn sauce, then “gratinee” or topped with cheese and broiled.

Tuesday morning saw us up at the crack of dawn to catch that quirky little train back to Bastia. If we missed the 8:30 departure, our plane was leaving without us. We had a slight panic attack (or I did, anyway) when I realized the hotel reception desk didn’t open until 8. Paying for the room….kind of important. Luckily, the hotel was only a 5 minute walk from the train station, so we went and bought our tickets, and while Hamilton waited at the station with our bags I walked back to the hotel and skulked around outside the door until the owner rolled up on his motorcycle at a quarter til eight. The train ride back was the perfect way to end the trip. Even knowing there were still hours of travel to go, the train ride felt more like a parting gift from the island than a necessary step in departure.

We finished up with lunch in the old Port, looking out on the water, and took our good sweet time about it because we were both tired of dragging our bags all over creation. Then, we waited for the bus to take us to the airport, but this time the Corsican timetable flipped again, with the driver refusing to let us on the bus before it’s scheduled departure at 4:00. He needed time to drink a café and buy cigarettes for the arduous half hour ride ahead of him. The flight back was mercifully uneventful and I arrived safely, if exhausted, in Bordeaux on Tuesday night, then took the train back to Pau the next morning.

So while this entry can’t possibly cover all the wonderful moments of my vacation, I can’t chain you to your computers and make you read my blog forever, either. Hopefully the pictures will say what I can’t. I’m going to St. Sebastian in Spain on Sunday with the Canterots, so you’ll get to hear all about how I make a fool out of myself when I’m somewhere that I don’t speak the language. A la prochaine!

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Photos

Bastia
Me at the citadelle our first morning

The Old Port
Bastia....from a high altitude, of course

Musee de la Corse
Entrance to the Shrine of Paoli

Hello!
Just to give you an idea of the scale. These mountains were enormous!

The Citadelle
Yup, Corte's got one too, but this one was the seat of Paoli's government

Welcome to Ajaccio
Back at the beach and hanging out in Napoleon's hometown

Bibliotheque National
These were the guards outside the library. I couldn't resist

The beach
Check out how blue the water is behind me!

Sunset
Hanging out on the rocks, waiting for the show to start

Comments

[Murdock]

favorite part of this post:
the beautiful pictures. wow. Especially love the one of you with the mountains for scale. Hehe.

[gima]

I, too, like the "look at the big mountains" picture. The description of the sunset is amazing. Aaaand the tipsiness before breakfast... too funny...

[Christina]

Oh, it makes me so nostalgic to read about Corsica! I have such fond memories of the train putt-putting over the rugged landscape, stopping occasionally to let the cows move from the tracks.