Tuesday morning and after a lazy start to the day, we decided to explore southern Corsica.
We drove around the bottom of the island to Bonafacio, a gorgeous town poised on the white cliffs overlooking the crystal clear water below.
|Bonafacio on the cliffs|
We climbed up stairs and entered the old town through the ramparts to the sound of ethereal music as a busker played an African thumb piano.
|I wore it first…|
|Wandering through the streets|
We wandered through the narrow alleys with steep stairways and picturesque washing hanging from above exploring hat shops and home wares before buying a couple of traditional Corsican pastries, sandwiches and delicious Corsican water (Orezza) and clambering down steps to the stony beach below.
|A collection of lovely antique tins|
Under the rocky overhang we ate lunch absorbing the incredible scenery surrounding us. Corsica had started to revealed itself and we fell more and more under the magic of her spell.
After lunch (rashly throwing caution to the wind and not waiting for half an hour) we carefully picked our way through the slippery rocks and swam in the incredible salty Mediterranean waters.
It was warm, saltier than the South of France and incredibly beautiful. I floated in the added buoyancy and lost sight of Letad as he swam off to explore.
Ten minutes later I realized I couldn’t see him and started to worry he’d got cramp from his sandwich and drowned, the classic honeymoon mistake.
I pulled myself up onto a rock and cast my eyes across the horizon but to no avail. And then turning, suddenly there he was. No cramp, he hadn’t drowned and all was well. I was quite relieved!
|Le Grain de Sablé|
We made our way back to the lovely car with welcome air conditioning and decided to wind our way around the coast to Sartene, an austere inland town of granite buildings clinging to mountainous cliffs which contrasted perfectly with the coastal beauty but bustling tourism of Bonafacio.
We stopped for an astronomically expensive cold drink in the Square of Liberacion and relaxed as we watched children playing. We meandered slowly back to the car stopping only to buy a bottle of Corsican rosé in case of emergencies. The wily Corsican shopkeeper charged an extra Euro for a cold bottle. The perils of being a tourist!
Back at the hotel, we showered and made our way to the beach for dinner. We sat at the water’s edge at a rustic restaurant and shared a carafe of wine and a pizza as the moon glinted on the waves gently breaking next to us. We talked about life, death and the meaning of both as the enormity of the universe surrounded us.
It had been a fantastic day and we’d laughed, relaxed, swam and fallen more in love both with each other and with the magic of Corsica.