our honeymoon
27 july 2003

our honeymoon started on an interesting note- with a change of plans. we were packed and ready to go, a bit tired from all the wedding excitement and hustle bustle of the previous months. we had planned to go with carol to the airport as our flight left shortly after hers but when i got up on tuesday morning, i saw that gary was seriously engrossed in something at the computer. i had kind of a bad feeling about it. he nonchalantly informed me that the french transport workers were on strike {once again} and that our flight to nice had been cancelled. our flight from nice to ajaccio, in corsica, however was still going. this was obviously a problem since we had to get to nice to make this happen.

i later found out that he knew about this strike the night before and that it might affect us. he chose not to tell me, probably a wise decision being the worrier that i am. my husband has a lot more patience than me and dealt calmly with the run around he was getting on the phone from the airlines, finally rebooking us for friday. i insisted that we start our honeymoon NOW and that i was not interested in giving up two days of my precious holiday time. so he asked me to take carol to the airport, assuring me that by the time i got back, he would have something worked out. and so it was.

GARY TOURS, SPECIAL EMERGENCY HONEYMOON PACKAGE was underway! he tortured me by not telling me where we were going but three trains later, we arrived at a tiny town called nieuweschans {don't try to pronounce it} and checked into the fontana hotel and spa. YES!! by now the weather had turned sunny and warm and we spent two relaxing days melting into the comfy bathrobes, swimming naked in the silky pools, and steaming away stress. we even spent one afternoon walking over to germany, a few kilometers away. crossing the footbridge, we encountered a couple of elderly women on bicycles and started chatting with them in dutch, of course. i proceeded to tell them that "we are going to marry three days ago". point being i was just so happy about our new marital status, i wanted to share it even in the wrong verb tense. they seemed amused. we did lose that time in corsica but this was a great alternative and we were happy for the chance just to hang around and catch up on some reading.

our first activity in corsica was having lunch at a restaurant high above the sea, twinkling turquoise in the noon day sun. it was heavenly, feeling such warm air coupled with the scent of the ocean. that was everything i was longing for. en route to our hotel, we stopped to explore the greek church that was representative of the people who settled there in the town of cargese. it's not one of the overly populated tourist destinations, which made it extremely appealing to us.

we spent three tranquil days there going back and forth from our room overlooking the sea to the beach, a mere 30 metres away. the sand was pure white, the water crystal clear. you could open your eyes while swimming and see straight to the bottom. cargese must be a well kept secret, judging from the lack of people there. actually our timing was right, the season hadn't really started yet. there was one odd feature we discovered about this beach however. after a few hours of beach time,

i headed for the shower only to find that i had a very black and sticky substance stuck to the bottom of my foot and it was not coming off. the more i rubbed, the more it was spreading onto my fingers, even onto the shower door. the adventures of "tarfoot" had begun. we have no idea if it was tar or sand that had turned to some weird consistency or something else altogether but we were both plagued by it a few times during the trip and once it even managed to get inside my bathing suit. gary came up with a solution to remove it: alot of soap and a very course nail brush. we later discovered that butt wipes or humid toilet paper as they call it here, worked alot more efficiently.

we chose corsica because it afforded us the beach in addition to the mountains. it was at one time part of the coast of provence but drifted slowly away and came to rest in the northernmost waters of the tyrrhenian sea with the cote d'azur. the mountains are tall and rocky, some with tones of red reminiscent of and just as striking as grand canyon colors. the area around the town or porto is called les calanche de piana, which are giant pillars of red stone rising straight out of the sea and making for one of the most exquisite hikes imaginable. the trail was covered in small rocks and we had to navigate our way over them while paying attention to where the next cairn was, encountering switchback after switchback. the scent of pine was abundant. in fact we were reminded of colorado often that day. we hiked for almost three hours, coming upon these huge vertical boulders and having to scramble to go higher. the top of the mountain was about an hour away but we had to look no further to view the sea posing as a most breathtaking backdrop to the mountains.

this is something we hadn't seen in colorado. we were content to eat our lunch of corsican cookies and yellow apples shaded by one of those behemoth boulders at that spot and after a hearty rest, started our return journey. i had some screaming blisters afterwards but never mind- it was more than invigorating and certainly worth it. we were mobile and had our own beach umbrella, chairs, and well stocked beach bag, enabling us to stop at any available beach and soak our weary feet, reviving ourselves apres hike. this became our new favorite way to travel.

you can spend hours driving around the island, taking in the diverse scenery and we did. gary drove those hairy roads, narrower than most of the mountain roads in colorado and we were both amazed at how fast cars came swinging around the blind bends. we had a few near misses. one perfect sunday afternoon, we were drooling over the majesty of the mountains and came to park at the head of a gorge. we walked along the creek, eyeing little green lizards hopping over the pure white rocks, and watching a little kid swimming naked with his dad. we soaked our hot feet in the cool water. the late afternoon sunlight was streaming yellow, making it a great time for taking pictures. i've always loved the feel of that time of day, so calming to me. we drove through a few towns, mostly tiny ones, screaming with charm, many of them tucked into the hills distinctly resembling tuscany. and why wouldn't they? corsica was under genoese rule for more than five centuries and only became french in the 18th century after 14 years of independence. there are still many genoese towers visible on the island and in some places you can enter the protected citadel, where there is a pretty lively scene within the fortress.

driving along the coastline, you see the maquis, thick underbrush, omnipresent. we were a little late- in early spring the scent of lavender, myrtle, and rockrose is supposedly overpowering. we missed it by a few weeks but we did get to taste myrtle beer, which was uniquely flavorful and the second best way to experience this herb. both chestnut and olive trees are in abundance also, and many products are made from them. the black olives have a distinct flavor, sweet yet pungent. driving from galeria, a tiny coastal town to calvi, a very popular spot, the landscape became intensely vivid. i kept thinking of those posters and album covers from the 70's, the surreal ones geared towards enhancing any LSD trip. the blues and greens of this coastline were of such hues. not a cloud appeared in the sky that day and just outside of town, we stopped at a shrine with the snowy white virgin mary, rising heavenward towards the velvety blue sky. we also had a nice view of the harbor and couldn't wait to get into town.

calvi was a pleasant surprise. it had become popular even before st. tropez was "the" place to be seen. for this reason, we thought it would be tacky and touristy. but it had a wonderful ambiance to it and we headed straight for quai landry, a colorful promenade with lots of great restaurants and a perfect view of the marina. supposedly christopher colombus was born here and there is a bust of him next to the citadel. calvi was founded by the romans in the 1st century AD and was the most powerful stronghold for the genoese starting in 1278. the ramparts are in tact and surrounding the shops and restaurants inside the citadel, the views are magnificent. in fact, corsica is a place where there is a view every minute. and of course you can't go to france without acknowledging the food. we had many meals of freshly grilled fish, soup de poisson, baked cannelloni, a corsican specialty, more italian than french, and perfectly baked pizza, thin crusted and topped with seafood. bread was served with every meal and we found some cookies, similar to biscotti, which we couldn't live without while there. one night we had chestnut mousse and two days in a row we had exceptional apple pie, very different from the american variety. what can i say? it's impossible to have a bad meal in corsica, another reason for not missing out on this jewel of an island.

the beaches are something to get excited about also. we parked our little beach chairs etc. on what seemed like a local family beach. soon after getting comfortable, the wind picked up and our striped umbrella uprooted itself and almost decapitated a woman not far from where we were sitting. gary ran after it before any damage was done. this was pretty embarrassing and from then on, he went to great pains to really dig that thing in. this beach was quite a scene. we saw parachuters jumping every half hour or so, kids playing with giant water toys that we never had when we were young, hikers stopping to dip their weary feet in the sea and then continuing on the trail parallel to it. we were greatly amused by a man in a kayak, rowing out and greeting swimmers with "bon jour". what a friendly little beach. another thing that amused us about calvi was the supermarket. i bought a very nice pair of shoes there- one stop shopping. we even had our laundry done there. the man at the shop spoke french, german, spanish, but no english or dutch. it was becoming comical trying to communicate with some of these people. one day we stopped at a restaurant and the woman insisted on conversing with us even though she spoke no english and we spoke no french. we had the dictionaries out and she even made her daughter get out her school books, as she was learning english. that was indeed exhausting and finally we had to excuse ourselves and move on.

as i mentioned, there are many quaint towns and i kept thinking we were in italy. it was most apparent as we drove along the strada di l'arigiani {route of the artists}. all street signs are in french and corsican, which looks just like italian mixed with czech, and in many places the french town place names {above the corsican names} have been spray painted over. there is still a movement actively fighting to gain independence. the route is actually a series of beautiful hill towns, inhabited by craftsmen and artists, each being famous for a particular specialty, such as glass blowing or the pottery. we stopped in pigna and walked among the warrens of stone residences, going up and down steps, taking in the smell of sizzling garlic. huge clay pots filled with purple bougainvilla were displayed and a lazy cat could be seen drowsing in the midday sun. very mediterranean, very italian!

one of the most interesting places we landed ourselves in was a dot on the map town called nonza. the landscape changed noticeably from the rich tuscan style to remote and rocky desert as we headed north. we didn't make it all the way to the tip of the island, called cap corse but stopped at nonza, which is built into a cliff rising dramatically from the sea, panoramic views all around. the beach is covered in black sand, due to tailings from an old asbestos mine washing ashore in the 60's making it unsuitable for swimming and giving it a sense of isolation as you look down onto it. to access our room we had to walk down at least 100 steps, lined with mammoth prickly pear cactus, so we only took a change of clothes with us and left the heavy suitcases in the car. we couldn't imagine our wheely bags or our bodies surviving the trek back up. this was really a place out of another century. there was one restaurant open for dinner and oddly enough our waitress, a gorgeous young blond, spoke english quite well. she had only arrived that morning from her home in strasbourg and told us she had come to work there for 3 months. we tried to figure out why such a young woman would choose these sleepy surroundings, as charming as they were, and we decided her parents had sent her there to keep her out of trouble.

we enjoyed our evening there and then drove to bastia in the morning. we breezed through patrimonio, a town famous for making wine. at 9:30 in the morning, we were surprised to find one of the wine shops open with an elderly man gluing labels onto the bottles. this was reason enough to buy some rose, at 4 euros a bottle, which turned out to be quite good. the image of the friendly fellow pasting labels gave it even more character. bastia is one of four major cities on the island and is a real city with a huge parking problem. it took us a solid half hour before gary was able to squeeze impressively into a spot. and this was after they built the tunnel that alleviated alot of traffic. i'm glad we persisted though because it was a great place to shop, which we found refreshing after being in the smaller towns. i ordered yet another delicious nicoise salad while sitting next to the harbor gazing at all the tall ships, leaving gary to his newspaper. onward to porto vecchio, another popular destination with the right atmosphere. the old town is centered around a lively square and at night is teeming with people. there are millions of great restaurants, which we had come to expect. after dinner we glutted ourselves on ice cream- some unlikely, delicious combination of pear, vanilla, and cinnamon as we surveyed the friday night scene serenaded by periodic church bells.

the next day we were on the move again, splurging on a hotel more like a resort a little bit out of town. it had a great pool, private beach and included dinner and breakfast. we wanted to stay in this area as the beaches were supposedly some of the most beautiful to be found. the private beach was indeed lovely and calm but we didn't stay long; we were anxious to check out plage de palombaggio. the road leading to it was worth the trip alone and our first glance confirmed what a jewel it was. the water was glittering below the sun, the sand was soft, and there were giant acacia trees spread out among the beach. it's amazing how relaxing the scent of the sea can be; the afternoon glided by as we played paddle ball and read our books. we liked it so much we returned the next day after a short hike into the forest in an area called l'ospedale, where there used to be a sanitorium making it a haven for people who were convalescing. the village of ospedale is a real "mom and pop" place and we had lunch there and afterwards browsed the general store, stocking up on some corsican specialties such as chestnut flavored honey and pate.

another of the fortified cities in the south of corsica is called bonifaccio, a fascinating place because it is perched on a promontory, its cliffs carved out of white chalk and layered with limestone. there is a famous "chunk" that detached itself about 800 years ago. standing beside it you realize it looks like nothing else you've ever seen, almost pac man shaped with teeth carved into its right side. you can also see the italian island of sardinia from that point. unknowingly we had come to town on a festival day. next to the harbor was the usual animated scene enhanced by a parade with everyone dressed in medieval garb and as the night wore on the entertainment got more varied with flame throwers, fireworks, and singers. gary liked the belly dancer the best. it took us until the next day to actually find out what the celebration was about. it seems they were commemorating the arrival of charles of quince in some faraway century but it wasn't clear who he was exactly and what contribution he made to the city . we were pretty curious about this but no one could offer any real details; it probably would have helped if we could speak french.

another of corsica's diversties are the megaliths or ruins. they date from about 6000 years ago and are in the form of alignments, called menhirs. we toured several sites in the blistering heat of the day to find giant stone slabs poking angularly out of the earth. these are thought to be ritualistic, important in burial practices during this period. the monuments were sculpted by different populations, for example some have faces, some are armed with weapons, which were made in the period of invasions, some are just plain. we also saw a dolmen, which looked like some type of dwelling, incredibly well preserved and having been discovered as recently as 1840. we thought it looked distinctly like fred flintstone's house.

since we hadn't gotten tired of going to the beach, we found, quite by accident, tizzano, a small fishing village with a perfect hotel overlooking the water and some decent restaurants, so we stayed there a couple of days. one of the highlights of our visit to this beach was our attempt to play paddle ball. we kept being interrupted by a pretty cute dog who REALLY wanted to get in on the game. we eventually had to stop, he just wasn't catching on that he wasn't invited. he then sat in front of us pouting, until finally he found some frisbie players to pick on. our holiday was now winding down and we thought we might finish it out in yet another beach town but we never made it that far. when we drove through sartene, we knew we had to stay there. another corsican treasure of a town set halfway up the hill over the valley of the rizzanese river, it offered us the right mix of serenity and activity. we booked a splendid hotel with a grand view of sartene and a very inviting swimming pool. we could also access the mountains from there.

we were dying to get up into those mountains again and so we drove to an area that is a hiker's paradise, passing through many of those lovely stony hilltowns. it is possible in corsica to hike the entire island via the GR-20, a path going from northwest to southeast, which is divided into 15 stages. it's also possible to pick up part of the trail, which we almost did in the area called col de bavella. this is a thrilling landscape with jagged peaks shaped like needles, glowing red at sunset. these are part of the highest mountain range in south corsica, even more spectacular when hiking them. we started out on that stretch of the GR- 20 but then realized it was going continuously downhill. we thought it would be better to save the downhill for the return trip and so we took a different trail. it was a difficult hike, so abundant with needle shaped rocks, we had to work to find the trail. it was challenging and inspiring and when we reached the top, we had a real sense of accomplishment. my knee has just about recovered from coming down that mountain but i have no regrets. the awesome sight of those powerful mountains lives on and besides, i don't know when i'll have the chance to hike again.

our last day in corsica presented us with a bit of an unusual adventure. we were having breakfast in our wonderful hotel, when a very handsome ginger cat sauntered up to us. i, of course had to pet him and probably should have stopped there but i let him come up onto my shoulder for closer range petting. what a sweet cat! not really as it turned out. when i put him down, he took a little bite out of my husband's leg! gary, who had been quietly reading his paper and ignoring the cat, was now bleeding everywhere. it didn't look good and so i had no grounds for defending the cat. we tried to find out who owned the cat and whether its shots were up to date but the nice woman at the desk just didn't possess enough english vocabulary to assure us it was okay. we decided it was best to check it out and on the way to the hospital, we noticed a large group of picketers. nothing new in france. when we got there, we saw a banner draped over the front of the building with the words, "personnel en greve". gary whipped out the dictionary- ON STRIKE! this was strike two for us as you may recall from the beginning of the story.

i couldn't believe it and had to take a picture. it was eerily quiet in the hospital, which felt kind of disconcerting since absolutely no one was around. at last we found "urgencie" and gary was assured he didn't need another tetanus shot, having had one three years ago. we found this to be pretty amusing but the downer was that he now had a conspicuous white bandage on his leg and wasn't allowed to swim.

i however, spent the entire day at the pool, sorry sweetie, and loved every minute of it. that night we went into town and after dinner watched the pinks of the setting sun fade into our favorite horizon. we hated to leave that special island but it wasn't so bad coming home......we still had more wedding presents to open!

with love,

deb