Crossposted at HuffingtonPost.com. Comments not included.
When I dream of Corscia
, I see a horizon with sparkling blue sea
touching electric blue sky as I smell the fragrant maquis in its
breezes. I slip into cool water and take a long swim, wondering at the
sea life around me.
The Lone Wolf and I fell in love with Corsica on our first trip to the island, when we had cruised there on a ferry from Nice. We drove our car off the boat and into the city of Ajaccio, where Napoleon Bonaparte had sent some of his plunder to his uncle, the powerful Cardinal Fesch. This collection plus more is housed in Cardinal Fesch's palace and is a very well-hung museum .
On this trip, we had decided to go north, first to Calvi and then to explore the Cap Corse. My guidebook had enticed us with this:
While Corsica is traditionally an agricultural and cattle-breeding island, the Cap Corse headland is staunch fishing country. The region's fisherman travel far out to sea to catch lobsters, and seafood is the region's gastronomic delicacy. The landscape and way of life of this region is much like the French region of Brittany - but with sun."
You can see the appeal.
You can read Parts 1 and 2 of our trip, here and here.
The morning L.W., the Cheese Princess, and I left Calvi, we were armed with a perfect little route through the mountains that our new friend, the owner of our favorite Calvi restaurant, A Candella, had given us. He didn't include our first actual stop but we heard the siren call of Domaine Orsini as we drove by and had to turn in. What a sophisticated operation for Corsican products (not unlike the Napa Valley)! They had private seating areas for each tasting party with spitting buckets built into the coffee tables, and you could degust everything from candy to jam to wine. Was it fun? I'll say.
Second stop was for more degusting at the Domaine D'Alzipratu, which wasn't as tourist glitzy but a more classic country-French-looking cellar. We tasted some incredible red wines at this vineyard owned by Cecilia and Pierre Acquaviva. (What a fabulous family name, and I would secretly like to name myself this.)
I drove further up through the mountains, where we almost always had a
stunning vision of the sea. The roads were narrow and steep, doable if a
little nerve-wracking at times.
I had to get used to driving on mountainous scary roads when we lived in the South of France in a village called Collioure, which is three villages up from Spain on the Mediterranean side. Many times we took visitors to Figueres to see the Salvador Dali Theatre-Museum or to his coolly crazy beach house outside of Cadaques in teeny Port Lligat. (Oh, how I'd love to own it.)
Driving along the Costa Brava was better than the Cote d'Azur because it's not as built up. The Lone Wolf would be tooling along the curvy mountain roads, and I'd say, Oh my God, that's beautiful BUT DON'T LOOK! He couldn't always go on my guided trips for friends and family, and I had to learn to get over my fear of driving heights. Hence, I was driving on this trip.
We arrived at the restaurant where we 'd planned to stop for lunch
sooner than we'd thought, so we opted to drive ahead to the charming
village of San-Antonino which sits on top of a mountain with splendid
views all around.
Pork but specifically wild pigs are big in Corsica. Since we come from
the land of the Arkansas Razorbacks, we kept our eyes wide open and
searching so we could see some. The last time the Lone Wolf and I were
in Corsica. I chased some pigs down the road trying to get a good
picture of them. They were spooked and wouldn't give me this
satisfaction as L.W. drove along behind me and laughed.
We loved this head of a sanglier (wild boar) though we really wanted to see his great-grandson in the flesh. But we opted for a simple restaurant with the view below.
We were on our way to Pigna and famous music box shop Scatt'a Musica
that entices people from all over the world.
L.W. became a little cranky about riding on the slow mountain roads, but
when we arrived at our lovely Hotel Pietracap
outside of Bastia, he perked up. This was a hotel that we all loved,
with our comfortable modern rooms and balconies with a sea view all the
way to Elba, a pool that lapped up our hot bodies and imaginations as we
all laid by the water and read our Stieg Larsson books.
This is where we spent our next few happy days. The first night we were
there, our hotel concierge steered to us Chez Hugette for
dinner in Bastia. Let me just say that we loved it so much we dined
there twice in the old harbor as the sun went down, and the lights went
up. Gorgeous...not to mention the exquisite seafood.
Among the delicious dishes we ordered: local oysters, soupe de poisson,
calimari, octopus, and lobster that filled our taste buds with
happiness.
One of our favorite stops in Bastia was the Cap Corse store. The Cheese Princess had become quite fond of Cap Corse as an aperitif before dinner.
We decided to take a day to drive around the Cap Corse (the trip was
supposed to take four hours without any stops), and we would break for a
lovely lunch along the way. The day was sunny and hot, and the road
snaked along the sea as we motored to a village called Macinaggio, where
we stopped to eat. We'd hoped for a bit more seaside charm but time
was ticking, and we decided we'd give a restaurant called U Culombu a
try. The food was okay...fine. The problem was that the waiter tried
to stiff us for 10 euros when we paid. The Lone Wolf paid him while I
took the change without checking the bill. (A travel no-no.) When L.W.
looked at the cash I handed him, he beat it back to the place and
talked to the manager. He got his money back, but we were all soured by
the feeling that this was a place that tried to rip-off tourists. I'd
skip the whole town.
The drive around this wild headlands is a feast for the eyes. The west side reminds me of driving up Highway 1 in northern California. You know how gorgeous it is--but exhausting, too.
The next time, we'd skip driving around the whole peninsula--and take
the western route to cliff-side village of Nonza. Have lunch (without
wine) and drive back the way we came. One's wits must be in
full-control. Meeting a tour bus on this route is hideously
frightening.
The Cheese Princess and I wanted nothing more than to take a ferry to
Sardinia and continue on. One of these days, my dear...one of these
days.
Domaine Orsini
Email: [email protected]
Telephone: +33 4 95 62 81 01
Domaine D'Alzipratu
Email: [email protected]
Telephone: +33 4 95 62 75 47
Scatt'a
Musica
Email: [email protected]
Telephone: +33 4 95 61 77 34
Hotel Pietracap
Email: [email protected]
Telephone: +33 4 95 31 64 63
Chez
Huguette
Email: [email protected]
Telephone: +33 4 95 31 37 60
Cap
Corse Mattei
Telephone: +33 4 95 32 44 38
---Beth Arnold in Paris
