Seven Kilometre Hike to the Supermarket


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Europe » France » Corsica » Calvi
August 18th 2016
Published: June 14th 2017
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We walk down to the dock to buy tickets for an afternoon boat cruise to the Scandola Nature Reserve south of Calvi. Issy's very keen to get an outside seat on the boat in the fresh air away from the diesel fumes. Issy and boats have often not been a good mix, and white paper bags have sometimes been required. We decide that we must get back to the dock early so that we can be at the front of the queue and be sure of getting a seat in the fresh air.

We wander around Calvi looking for somewhere to get a light lunch. We've noticed that restaurants here don't seem to be big on light lunches; most of them only seem to offer the same full blown meals at lunch as they do at dinner. I wonder if most French people eat full blown meals for both lunch and dinner. If so I hope they get a lot of exercise. We noticed when we were in mainland France last year that we hardly saw any overweight French people, and Corsica doesn't seem to be any different. We conclude that most French people probably don't eat full blown meals for both lunch and dinner, which leaves us wondering what they do eat when they don't want a full blown meal. Maybe they just grab a bread stick from the local boulangerie, and munch on that. French people do seem to be big on grabbing bread sticks. We saw a lady walk into a restaurant a couple of days ago and take a big one off a table. She didn't order anything, or eat at the restaurant, and she certainly didn't pay for it. No one seemed to bat an eyelid. It's almost as if breadsticks are public property. I wonder how the man at the boulangerie makes any money.

We go back to a restaurant we had lunch at a couple of days ago. Issy orders a ham and cheese sandwich, and I order the same herb omelette that I ordered when we were here before. When it comes out it looks like it's half the size it was last time. Issy says that maybe they've put it on a bigger plate this time so it just looks smaller, but I think it's more likely that I didn't leave a big enough tip when we were here before.

We get back to the dock in plenty of time and stand in the queue for the boat. Issy is very happy; there are only four people in one family group in front of us, and she knows now that she'll be able to get a good outside seat. After a few minutes, the family in front of us wanders off, so we're now at the front of the queue. We're also now the only people in the queue and it's nearly time for the boat to leave. We start to wonder why. I then happen to glance along the waterfront and notice a large queue in front of another boat which wasn't there when we got here. I start to get a sinking feeling. I tell Issy to wait while I investigate. Sure enough it seems that we've been standing in front of the wrong boat. The family in front of us is now sitting in a restaurant. They weren't ever standing in a queue; they were just admiring one of the boats. Issy doesn't look very happy. I think she can smell diesel fumes already, and the boat's engine hasn't started yet. She's already looking for a white paper bag, and we're still on the dock.

The sea is choppy, but the boat is quite big, and thankfully for Issy it isn't rocking up and down too much. The spectacular coastline is rocky and rugged, and there are very few signs of any human habitation. The cliffs at Scandola are sheer and massively tall. The boat's able to get within a few metres of them which suggests to us that they must also extend a long way down below the waterline. We cruise past a small fortified tower on a small island just offshore which is also surrounded by sheer cliffs. The tower looks like it's probably been there for hundreds of years. The old time locals must surely have burnt their way through quite a few pairs of boots getting the bricks up the cliffs to build it.

The boat only has a small speaker system, so one of the crew members comes around to each group of passengers to tell them about features of interest. He's very friendly and helpful. Issy seems to have taken a liking to him, which I think this might have something to do with him having a good supply of white paper bags sticking out of his pocket. He points out a small village high on the cliff at the south end of Scandola which he says isn't accessible by road. The only way in and out to get supplies is either by boat, or by hiking seven kilometres inland over the mountains. I suspect you wouldn't be too happy if you got back from the supermarket and discovered that you'd forgotten the milk. Our friendly crew member tells us that he's only 20, and is progressing towards becoming a maritime captain. He says that he'll be spending some time in Alaska next year on a fishing trawler as part of his training. I hope he's got some warm clothes to take with him. We chat to him in English because his English is an order of magnitude better than my French. He says that he needs to learn "maritime English", as it seems that maritime law dictates that all conversations at sea involving sea captains who don't speak the same language are conducted in English. I wonder who made that law. Whoever it was, I suspect they weren't French. Our friendly mate keeps apologising for his English. It's me who should be doing the apologising; we're in France, and my French is virtually non-existent.

I think that we've become addicted to mussels. We go back to the same restaurant for the third time, and again we order mussels. I decide that we need at least some variety in our lives, so I order a beer that I've never heard of before, called Monaco. I take a sip. I assume that they've given me lemonade by mistake. The only thing beery about it is its colour. I wonder why anyone would decide that it was a good idea to make beer that tastes like lemonade. I make a mental note to never order Monaco beer again. After we've finished our one kilogram bucket of mussels we have a main course, and then finish our meal off with coupe desserts that also come in buckets. I tell Issy that she'll need to push me up the hill. I ask her whether she thinks it‘s possible to eat so much that your stomach bursts. She tells me that she once saw them try to burst a stomach on an episode of "Myth Busters", and they couldn't. I wonder how hard they tried.

The wifi in the hotel room is a waste of space. We haven't been able to access it all day, and tonight is no different. We realise that we've become very dependent on wifi. We can get very slow access if we sit in reception. We’ve been spending a lot of time sitting in reception.


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