Corsican Camo and Tufoni

Lisa climbing at Isla Rosa

We headed back through the cosmopolitan trash heap of Marseille to the airport to pick up a rental car for our "vacation" to Corsica. We had to go to the airport because it was the only place that we could find that would rent us a car without a young driver charge which would have doubled the cost. After a couple of trains and a bus we got the car no problem, which is actually quite remarkable because we later found out that the mob of strikers had blockaded the airport the same day. We drove back through our campsite, picked up our stuff, and headed to Toulon to catch our ferry.

St. Florent

The ferry was about 10 hours over night, which we spent camped out on the floor as opposed to paying for a cabin. It was slightly more comfortable than our nights at the airport. We arrived in the port city of Bastia on the North tip of the island with no real plan. We decided to take a scenic route to Calvi, a tourist town on the West Coast. We took back roads but even the main highway on Corsica was a back road by most standards. Along the way we stopped at a small fishing village then in the town of Ilsa Rosa where Lisa forced her way into a book store as they were closing for siesta and we bought a climbing guide. It turned out that there was a crag right in the town we were at. The climbing was unmemorable but the setting was unforgettable. The crag stat below a lighthouse above a crystal clear cove with mountain views behind.

Lisa posing in a tufoni

After some climbing and a nice dip we headed to our campsite in Calvi. The next day we headed inland for some more climbing. (We finally had a car and a guide book, we were going to make use of them!) The climbing here was better, and the view was from the top of the mountain we had been looking at the previous day. The climbing itself was bolted granite cracks. In America bolting a crack is frowned upon because it can easily be protected with clean removable protection, but since we only had sport gear we were happy to hqve the bolts. After climbing we started to explore inland a little and check out a wine route. Other than signs telling us we were on the wine route it seemed to not exist. There would be a sign for a winery, then nothing there. When we finally found one, it seemed as no one was there. Eventually another couple arrived and must have made more noise than us because a garage door opened with a small tasting bar instde that felt as though you were in someones garage.

Calvi

The following day we slowly made our way towards Ajaccio, the largest city on the island, stopping to admire crazy red granite walls that fell straight into the sea that looked like if you were to flood Eldo with turquoise water. We also stopped to climb on a beach, just a beautiful as the last couple had been. Corsican rock is famous for tufoni, rock fins as thin as a quarter inch thick. While they are great fun to climb, they are nerve racking because they vibrate if you even breath on them!

Even tough Calvi and Ajaccio are only about 60 miles apart, the drive was over four hours along roads so curvy and full of holes they made four wheeling roads from home seem like highways. We planned on camping near Ajaccio that night, but found all campsites closed (and primitive camping is illegal.) We ended up getting a hotel with Internet so we could look up open camping for our next destination. Ajaccio was unremarkable and we left early the next morning to climb a granite mountain called Gozzi. It had rained the night before which meant that we got soaked bushwhacking for an hour up to the base of the climb. Once we were standing at the base, the rock that had looked bomber from the ground was covered in moss and water streaks. It also looked as though the scramble up to it was more of a challenge. We decided it wasn't worth shivering up so we headed back for the car. While we were changing our of our wet cloths we were ambushed and Lisa's shoe stolen by a very fierce lab puppy.

Lisa bouldering near Bonifacio

After playing with the puppy for a while we continued south to Bonifacio, the far south tip of the island. Again it was a slow windy road but we were in no hurry because we had found four campsites that said they were open. When we arrived we went to the tourist info office so they could direct us towards the campgrounds. We were informed that they were all closed. All? Yes all. We confirmed this by driving around for two hours looking at all of them. We ended up staying in a hotel in Porte Vechio, a 30 minute drive north. We stayed there for 2 nights. It ended up being a good thing because all three nights we spent in hotels it poored. Every other night was perfect.

Bonifacio

The next morning we went to a beach with bouldering. It poored so there was no climbing to be had but it was seriously gorgeous. The weather cleared and we headed to actually see Bonifacio. Bonifacio is probably the coolest town I have ever seen. It is old run down Mediterranean building precariously perched on a a hundred foot white cliff trying not to fall into the sapphire sea below. The same cliff band continues for 10 miles with only a light house in the view. The only down side is no climbing because the rock is to soft and crumbly.

Bonifacio

We drove around looking for a beach that was supposed to be beautiful but never figured out how to access it. We spent the evening watching the sun set behind the hanging buildings. (Less romantic than you might think because it was mostly me telling a shivering Lisa "only a few more minutes until the light is perfect, then we can go."

Bonifacio at sunset

The next day we headed inland to Bavella, Corsica's most famous climbing destination. It was unreal. It looked like a combination of Chamonix and Estes Park but with a view of the sea! As we drove up to it we watched the thermometer drop to just above freezing and we were planning our escape back to the coast. Luckily just as we started climbing the sun came out and it ended up being a perfect day. That night we headed to a camp site up halfway up the east coast, having called ahead to confirm they were open. When we arrived we were surprised to see a huge billboard advertising it as a nudist resort. Luckily it was cold so there were no nudists. (I guess the fat German men dont like the cold!)

Climbing at Bavella

On our last full day we went inland to the Largest inland city, Corte, where we climbed for a few hours then explored the town. We liked Corte much better that the larger coastal cities because it had a much rawer feel. The down side of this being all of the graffiti of the liberation groups. (Corsica does not want to be part of France and they don't hide it. The french in all of the road signs has either been painted over or more eloquently replaced by bullet holes. They also seem to love camo, one in three men wearing it, which I think has something to do with this.)

Corte

While in Corte we just strolled around, making friends with another black dog that wanted our lunch (he didn't know I have 3 black dogs trying to take my lunch at home, so it was easy to resist.) Before catching the ferry back to the mainland Friday night we went climbing on top of a mountain above Bastia. It was a nice way to end the trip with views of both coasts until we were interrupted by some very loud cows. Since we were now finished with our sweet tent (we tried to send it home but could not communicate with the lady at the post office) we gave it to a group of guys climbing. They were very thankful and even tried to give us a bag of pot in return. (Thanks but no thanks.) After another shitty nights sleep on the ferry we returned the car (mirrors intact) and were back to "reality."

Our new friend from Corte