Corsica is a large island in the Mediterranean, a department of France. Down its spine lies a rugged range of granite mountains and along the spine is a rough track named the Grand Randonne 20, 190 kilometers long and with 25,000 metes of ascent and descent. It is without doubt one of the worlds great high alpine treks and for this reason I set off in May 2010 on a solo quest of this great route.
My hotel was the Hotel L’Aiglon who was a bit grim and expensive with an included breakfast that I could not have as my bus left early. Still it was great to lie down though I slept poorly due to all the adrenaline I’d been pumping all day. I was up at 6:30 and went out for a recce to see if I could fine St Catherine’s car park where the bus to Bastia left from. It was a nice morning and after wandering up some steep narrow streets I located it not far away.
At 8:00 I boarded the bus for the 3 hour run north to Bastia. We drove along a coastal plain through pretty Mediterranean style villages to the bustling city of Bastia. I had a map I copied off the internet of the town and located the bus stop for Calvi outside La Gare. As it was not due to leave for some hours I checked in my pack to the Left Luggage at La Gare and wandered off to the Information Office where I asked about getting ‘Alcohol a Bruler’ for my Trangia stove. I was directed to a sports shop in a lovely plaza of old buildings but it was closed till the afternoon. Then I had a brain wave and hunted down a large supermarket on the north side of town and with the help of a kindly Frenchman found the elusive fuel.
It was now lunchtime so I had a nice meal there and went off to inspect the citadel that was not nearly as impressive as the one at Calvi. Then I got the bus to Calvi and got stuck in a long traffic jam for ages arriving at 7:00 at Calvi. There were some Americans on the bus that I spoke to and a very loud, opinionated Frenchwoman. Arriving at Calvi I immediately got a taxi for 38 euros to the Gite Municipal at Calenzana, a mountain village at the start of the GR20. I was so happy to arrive there after such a circuitous route from New Zealand.
The Gite Municipal I had read about and it was most pleasant place and only cost me 15 euros for a bed in a room with several other beds. I parked my gear there and went for a walk up the road to the village where I bought a pizza and a drink in a small restaurant. I felt relaxed and as happy as I could be knowing the mountains were close by and tomorrow I would be up there. I wandered back in a light shower and had a wonderfully refreshing sleep.
It was Saturday 15th May, my first day on the GR20. It rained during the night but cleared up by the time I got up at 7:30. I made breakfast in the large kitchen and then packed up and started up the steep street through the village. I stopped at the Spar supermarket to buy some ‘chestnut spread’. My pack was heavy with over 7 kg of provisions, 2 liters of fuel, tent, stove, crampons and ice-axe. It was cloudy on the tops with occasional spits of rain. It is 20 kilometers and 1610 meters of ascent to the Refuge d’Ortu, a hard day according to the guide. It took me 7 hours. There was cloud on the tops with the odd clearance. I saw some wild goats high up. I climbed up a scrubby slope with ever expanding views of the village below and the coastal plain.
Then over a pass and into another valley climbing up towards high rocky mountains. Up and up through pine forest and over a pass and then a sidle on the far side through Laricio pines to climb up small cliffs to another pass the Bocca a u Bassiguellu. This was a pleasant grassy pass with forest a short distance below and looked like a good place to camp though it is forbidden on the GR20. The day had brightened though cloud hung around the tops and valleys.
A path to the left climbed gently past tall pines and then sidled on the right side of the ridge. I climbed into mist and wondered how long this was going to take. Eventually I arrived at the Refuge d’Ortu di u Piobbu at 1570 meters in a clearing.
I met some Frenchmen there but was too tired to communicate with them. There were 2 bunkrooms and I took the back one that had only 1 other occupant. I had a nice dinner, wrote my diary up and had an early night and great sleep.
I awoke at 7:30 to a better day. It was cool and there was snow on the tops now clear. I had a quick breakfast, left 1 liter of fuel and set off as the others were getting up. The path dropped down to the creek and then sidles up and around the low angled ridge ahead. This was covered in leafless birch trees and further on dropped into a side valley. Here the route ascended the bouldery valley among banks of snow. Higher up it crossed the creek and up rock walls on the true left and seemed like it was going to cross a pass up ahead but alas this did not happen. Instead it wandered all over the place and then shot off to the left up a long snow covered slope to a pass called Bocca Piccaia at 1950 meters. There was an awesome view on the other side of sheer rock peaks across the Ladroncellu Valley. I plonked my pack down on the snow and had a bite to eat.
I was a bit shocked by the view that looked like hard mountaineering.
As it was warm and sunny I had a hot chocholate and some biscuits and went off for a wash in the creek where I also washed some clothes. As I was cooking dinner I got talking to a German hiker called Deok from Turingen and got distracted. Next thing we noticed the wind had blown the flames of my stove and melted the tube of my Platypus bladder. What a nuisance! I then borrowed a sharp knife and managed to splice the tube so I could still use it. At 19:30 I went off to sleep on a mattress I had pulled into the hut and slept soundly with the aid of a sleeping pill.
On Monday I awoke at 7:00 and left at 8:10 dropping downhill through stately tall pines to a suspension bridge over the Spasimata Gorge. Then it was up the Spasimata slabs that had chains on them in places. It was nice scrambling though hard with my heavy pack. Up ahead were impressive rock peaks now bathed in sunlight against a background of blue sky. The German party passed me moving fast with their small packs. I climbed up into the sunlight and some warmth up small cliffs and then moved further over to the left into the shade and up leafless Alder bush to a level platform above tiny Lac de la Muvrella at 1860 meters. This was frozen in a hollow below and beyond was a steep show slope leading up to rocky gap at 2000 meters on the side of Muvrella Peak.
I had a spell here and noted the track led downwards and then left across a rocky partially snow covered slope to a pass called Bocca I Stagni. Here I caught up with the Germans who went off to climb Muvrella. I had lunch and then set off down a rocky track to the tiny houses far below that was Haut Asco.
Haut Asco is a ski resort with a hotel and a huge Refuge Asco-Stagnu. It has road access and I could see some cars below, a disappointing sight after the ruggedness of the previous 3 days. There was an impressive range of peaks across the valley and among them was Monte Cinto, the highest peak in Corsica at 2706 meters. I wandered into the Refuge that was enormous and found it empty so I picked a small room on the top story.
Then I wandered around to check out the scene and had an ice cream and coffee at the hotel le Chalet bar. I went back and had a shower and washed some clothes. In the evening I had a three-course meal at the restaurant for 20 euros. I slept poorly maybe because I wanted to get away early and climb Monte Cinto and also the place felt like a morgue.
I started at 5:45 up the track to Monte Cinto. Needless to say it was very quiet as I stole out and up the lonely track winding up the pines towards the high peaks. This dropped down to the creek on my left to cross a bridge and then climbed up rocks to a valley with an odd leaning tower of rock ‘La Tour Penchee’. The track continued up the left hand side of this valley to the snow that was frozen. On the way I startled some Mouflon above me.
Higher up I lost the cairns and paint flashes so decided to cut out onto snow slopes leading towards the head of the valley. I climbed some small cliffs and then stopped to put on my crampons. Up ahead was an old moraine wall that I climbed and on top found a marker cairn.
Directly above me was a huge rock and ice face and to my right steep snow led around the base of these cliffs to a steep snow/ice face. I move off to the right up increasingly steep snow slopes. The higher I got the more exposed it seemed. Directly above were rock walls riven with ice leads that looked quite technical.
I remembered I had on my light-weight Grivel alloy crampons and light weight Aerotech ice axe so I did not feel confident I could scale this safely. The alternative was to crab sideways to easier slopes and this is what I did. Then I was on easier slopes and I climbed straight up to an easy snow ridge at 2600 meters.
The snow on the other side was very soft and way off to the left lay the summit ridge. There were no footprints here so it seemed like no one had been up for some time. I climbed along towards the summit and eventually came to a subsidiary summit with some wooden markers tied to a block of stone. There was a steep rock face dropping to the ridge a hundred feet below. Without the help of a rope I did not feel confident descending it solo. So I back tracked to the ridge and tried to get around this tower of rock. Alas the snow was diabolical so I decided to retreat.
Back along the ridge and I descended the steep snow face down the middle. This was quite intimidating as it was very steep and frozen and necessitated in me front pointing almost the whole 1000 feet down to easier slopes. Then it was an easy walk down the valley back to Haut Asco. On the way I caught up with Deok and his Austrian friends and had exchanged pleasantries. Back the Hotel le Chalet I bought some supplies and had dinner back at the Refuge.
On Wednesday I woke to a cloudy day. I was sluggish and made a slow start. It was very quiet as I made breakfast downstairs in the huge dining hall. There was a chill in the air as I closed the door on the refuge and started down the steps. I had not even left the village when I remembered I had not packed the bottle of fuel. Where could it be? So I dumped my pack and ran back up to the refuge and crawled under the bunk to retrieve the overlooked bottle. Near one that!! Then 5 minutes later I realized I’d not seen my cellphone so I pulled everything out of it to find it at the bottom of the pack. This was a poor start for the day and did not bode well.
The track gently climbs up the valley through forest to an open area with high mountains at the head. Looking back I could see it was raining down valley and I was worried about crossing the Cirque de la Solitude up ahead. The path wandered across an open slope of juniper scrub and spiny broom. It was a slow grind up to Col Perdu flanked by brooding dark peaks with cloud descending to their tops. Deok passed me going fast and we exchanged pleasantries. Then I was climbing snow to a small pass and below me was a frozen tarn. On the other side I could see Deok climbing up snow slopes to Col Perdu. At 2183 meters it looked like it would rain any minute so I pressed on as fast as I could.
Standing on the col the view down to the cirque did not look too bad. There was a straightforward descent on rock and snow. I could see some climbers heading up steep snow slopes on the far side towards some cliffs.
The route higher up was difficult to see. As there was a line of steps I took my crampons off for the descent. It now looked grim, dark descending clouds beginning to spit and I’m alone in the cirque. I hurried along climbing the steps to chains on the cliffs above. I moved over slabs to the left onto snow slopes that went straight up to a col, the Bocca Minuta.
What a relief, almost an anti-climax. On the other side were easy snow slopes dropping down to a valley. It was trying to snow as I set off following footsteps in the snow. Later I dropped below the snowline and eventually arrived at the Refuge de Tighjettu. I heard it long before I arrived as workmen were using a generator and doing some work on it. I continued on down the valley on a good track and presently came to the Auberge U Vallone. There was a house there and a large marqui style tent. No one was about so I carried on in pleasant conditions down the valley. However once I turned the corner into the Foggiale Valley, the weather deteriorated with rain and later snow. Some Frenchmen passed me as the rain came on so I stopped and put on my shell gear. I stopped in the lee of a tall pine tree for a spell as it now blew horizontal rain up the valley and got very cold.
Above the scree and bouldery slopes the paint splashes ascended cliffs into whiteout. Suddenly Deok appeared. He told me he had lost the way and it was too dangerous to proceed. However though conditions were miserable I decided to push on. Now it was snowing and I reached a gully running with water. Up this I climbed to snow fields where I found footprints. Higher up they disappeared just as I reached a col. The guide suggested one had to ascend to 2050 meters so I climbed further up from the col and stumbled onto a track covered in snow but with steps. In a full blown blizzard I hurried along wishing the Refuge de Ciottulu di I Mori to appear. Then after some time I spotted it and arrived absolutely covered in snow. I had to take off my pack and jacket and knock off all the snow before I entered. There were quite a few people there. I got a hot drink and wrote up my diary. There was a French-Canadian man and his partner in the refuge and they said that they would head down to Castel di Vergio where there was a hotel. I was told t was only 2 hours away so I decided to pack up and leave too.
I sped off into the mist and fierce wind and shortly regretted this decision. I was freezing as I raced along almost running. Then the track dropped down slowly to the Golo Valley where I caught up with the pair who left earlier. On and on we went for several hours down the sodden valley into forest where the path wandered all over the place. It was a 3 hour ‘run’ to the Hotel Castel di Vergio which we reached just on dark. I booked into the Gite in the basement of the hotel. What a welcome sight. The room had only another couple and was warm and spacious. I pulled my wet pack apart and hung my damp clothes on the radiators to dry off, had a hot shower and crashed minus dinner after a 14 hour day from Haut Asco.
This was old territory as the previous year I had walked down from here to Albertacce from this hotel. I did not intend to leave early but everyone seemed to be out the door by 8:00 so I got under way early. The storm had cleared and there was a bright sky though the air was cold. Just down the road was the track to Bocca San Pedru that climbs up through the woodland. The forest was of Laricio pine and beech trees with dappled sunlight on the forest floor as I climbed slowly up to San Pedru. It was a pleasant climb though the wind was cold. There was a small shrine on the col. Here the route is up the crest of the ridge to re-enter the forest higher up. Above bushline on the ridge I stopped for some food and took photos. From here it was a path on the side of a rocky slope that climbed to the grassy Bocca a Reta.
The day had warmed up and the sun was shining on the surrounding mountains. Ahead the land dropped down to a gentle valley containing a blue lake, Lac du Ninu.
Snow lay on the ground but the green grass showed though in many places. I ambled down past a small shrine and across the flats. Further down the path lay along the banks of the Tavignanu River where beech trees grew. I contemplated heading off down to the creek and camping which in retrospect would have been a good move but instead I carried on. I crossed a grassy plain, the Pianu di Campotile and then up the next valley to the Refuge de Manganu. It was closed due to maintenance so I pitched my tent nearby. It was sunny with some cloud and I had a restful afternoon. At one stage I was startled by a ? large cat that came into the vestibule but I did not see it clearly. It scampered away when I sat up. Later some French people arrived and went into the hut.
In the evening the wind got up but that night a full gale was blowing and it was difficult to sleep. The tent flapped unmercifully and I eventually put in ear plugs to try to get some sleep. In the dark I awoke and noticed a lighter area in the side of the tent and I thought to my self “that’s strange” and when I reached out my hand found a hole in it. I was shocked and switched on my headlight to discover several food bags gone. Then the chilling realization struck me I’d had a visitor, a feral cat or fox had torn the tent and taken food out. I jumped up and raced outside to discover my scattered food bags, all torn and supplies strewn about. I gathered them up and noticed only the bag of sweats were missing. Back in the tent I repaired the hole with duct tape and left my light on as I was uncertain if the scavenger would return. But the gale was as bad as ever so I collapsed the tent and moved quietly into the refuge where other climbers were sleeping on mattresses on the floor. I lay down on my thin air mattress and slept fitfully for the rest of the night on the frigid floor till dawn.
As most of the climbers were still asleep I pulled all my gear outside to do a proper pack and to check I had not forgotten anything. I had a quick breakfast and was away by 6:30. I was not feeling great what with the poor night and lack of sleep as I climbed up the valley. Although I was first away soon the other caught up with me travelling light. I met a guide and his client coming back who stopped for a chat. They had left in the early hours of the morning in case the weather turned bad. Thomas, the Czek passed me. Up ahead the track was on the side of a stream on the true right and at the head of the valley snow slopes climbed to a notch in the ridge the Breche de Capilellu at 2225 meters.
On the pass I stopped for a spell and talked to Thomas. He seemed ill prepared for the steep snow conditions and made heavy weather of the scrambling on rock lower down. There were footprints in the snow leading off to the right and down along a ridge to another pass called the Bocca a Soglia.
Down to the left were the frozen lakes of Lac de Capitellu and Lac du Melo. There were footsteps across snow-covered slopes to the left of the col and higher up we eventually came to the Bocca Renosa. From here it was a gentle climb across snow to the Bocca Muzzella with extensive views to the south.
The snow was soft as I descended the Stazzanelli to the ridge overlooking the Refuge de Petra Piana. There is a choice of two routes here, a low level route via the Ruisseau de Mangatellu and up another valley to the Refuge de l’Onda or a high level one via the Serra di Tenda. Thomas dropped off to Pietra Piana and I continued on down to the Bocca Mangellu and climbed slowly up the long ridge to Punta Murace. I did not feel well and suspected I was developing a viral infection. There were quite a few summits along the range and an awkward loose descent off one peak. Then for the last peak the route was up a steep snow face and here the steps were went in different directions and it was obvious people had difficulty on this section. I decided to head straight up so put on my crampons and my ice axe. Over the crest there was an easy path almost level for a while and then dropping to Bocca d’Oreccia. I could see the Refuge but as it had only a small number of beds I dropped down to the Bergerie below it and camped in a paddock there.
Saturday I awoke to a nice sunny day but felt tired and had a cold. I had breakfast and slowly got organized and then headed up the hill. I climbed up slowly gaining height up to the ridge about 700 meters above me. Off to the left was the summit of Monte d’Oru that I was keen to traverse but I felt too sick and tired to do so. Near the ridge was a plaque to a young Frenchman who had perished in a snowstorm at that spot years ago. The photograph showed him standing high up on a snowy peak with a dog. It was very sad. From the ridge the route went left down the ridge before leading off down snowfields to rock slabs and alder scrub. Lower down the path entered pine forest and dropping beside a beautiful rushing stream. I met Thomas the Czek again and we moved on down the valley. In the Cascade des Anglais there were day hikers and eventually we crossed a few bridges and arrived at Vizzavona.
I was uncertain of where to stay and eventually booked into the Gite in the Bar/Restaurant de la Gare. This was OK but not great. There were inadequate washroom facilities. I met a nice German couple, Thomas a medical student and Sophie, a teacher who were staying there. I had a miserable night with my nose that ran continually and kept me awake.
I felt dead next day from lack of sleep and my viral infection. Thank goodness I did not have to walk today. At breakfast I asked Chris, the Canadian to let me use his Blackberry and sent an email to Belinda. I had not been able to find any internet at Vizzavona. After a breakfast of bread and coffee and I saw Thomas off on the train to Corte. I then decided to camp in the local campground as I felt uncomfortable in a Gite with my runny nose and cough and spreading germs around.
It is beside La Gare on the other side of the tracks but there is no toilet that was a nuisance. Despite this it was in a sunny position and quiet with shade under the pine trees. I tried my cellphone again and to my surprise it worked. Earlier I could not get any connectivity. I sent a text to Belinda and got a reply that raised my spirits no end and exchanged several more. I also sent a text to Fisch advising him not to bring an ice axe or crampons and less food but he was already on his way. I went to the Epicerie in the Bar/Restaurant and bought some food. I bumped into Deok and that evening joined him for dinner at the Hotel I Laricci. We had a nice three-course meal. I slept soundly that night in my tent.
Monday morning dawned another fine day. I switched on my mobile and got a message from Fisch that he was in Ajaccio and would be in on the morning train. That was great news. I packed up and met him on the 9:10 train at La Gare. He looked great and was in no rush to hit the trail and that suited me fine. We had a leisurely coffee at the La Gare Restaurant and then booked into the Hotel I Laricci.
We said goodbye to Deok who was still there. We went off for a walk and then had lunch at the hotel and then checked into our room. It was on the third floor and was in its original style and a delight. The Hotel must be very old and exudes great character. The staff was very friendly and helpful. We went for a walk on the Sentier Achaeologique to a cave where Neolithic hunter-gatherers lived 7000 years ago in the very heart of Corsica. There was not a lot to see. We had a nice meal that night back at the Hotel and went to bed early.
I felt a bit better next day but by no means fully recovered as we set off up the hill. Thankfully it was an easy gradient all the way through beech forest and Laricio pine to bushline. From here there were extensive views back to Monte d’Oru as we reached the Bocca Palmento at 1645 meters. We contoured around a spur to the Bergeries d’Alzeta. The path continued to contour around further spurs now in beech and later tall Laricio pine forest. Finally there was a zigzag climb upwards to a road and the Refuge d’E Capanelle. It was quite small and we should have probably stayed there but instead we descended to a gite lower down the Gite d’Etape U Fagone. Here we were given a very cramped room of 4 bunks. We shared it with a nice French couple.
Across the small valley where we stayed was a ski lift and our route next day was upwards beside it. It gradually climbed to a partially frozen lake, Lac de Bastani beyond which was the summit of Monte Renosu. We climbed up snow slopes to the summit ridge and then it was an easy stroll to the crucifix on the summit at 2352.
Behind us was a stream of people and soon the summit was overwhelmed. It was time to move on! We stayed on the ridges all the way to Punta Capella and from there took our own route down to the junction of the GR20 and the variation via the Bergeries des Pozzi. We had a leisurely lunch and then carried on to the Col di Verdi where there was road access and all that entails. We scoffed a penache and then set off for Refuge de Prati. There was a steep climb up through pine forest to a higher valley of birch forest and then a bouldery slope led to the Bocca d’Oru. A short while later we reached the Refuge sited on a grassy plain to find it bursting with people, a guided party complete with mules and guides. We camped nearby.
Woke early with cloud below us on the coastal plains and no wind. We slowly got organized as a large party fluffed around with their guides and mules. We had breakfast and broke camp. Soon we were climbing up a steep track to a high point on a ridge. The route then continued along sloping rocky slabs on the left side of the ridge before zigzagging back to the crest of the ridge. A party of French soldiers passed us. The track contoured along the ridges and in 3 hours we descended to the Bocca Laparo that was pleasant spot with verdant beech forest.
A strong westerly was now blowing as we made our way along the east side of the high range ahead. Oddly enough the east side was cloudy and the west clear though very windy. Then we were climbing up steep slopes of Punta Bianca and Monte Furmicula. The latter is bare rock and very barren. The route wandered along a rocky ridge with many ups and down among small cliffs. It is called the Crete d’Acqua Acelli. At the end of it the route descends into a valley to the Refuge d’Usciola at 1750 meters. There was a gardien in residence and the refuge was decorated in Tibetan prayer flags.
We stayed in the refuge. I must have picked up a stomach bug as I had stomach cramps all night and some diarrhoea.
Further on the ridge continues as the Arete a Monda that is a long rocky ridge with a few summits interspersed. Below to the right was a village called Cozzano a long way below us. At the end of the ridge we dropped to the Bocca di l’Agnonu in the bush. Here we stopped for some food and drink. The path continued in forest dropping down to the left to a ‘source’ that is a supply of drinking water usually a pipe out of a spring. In the beech forest we saw lots of pigs and some wild bulls. The route eventually leaves the forest for the Plateau du Cuscione. This is an extensive grassy and scrub covered plain where the locals graze their animals in summer. The path leads to a footbridge over the Ruisseau de Furcinchesu and then up to the site of a former refuge at I Pedinieddi Aire de Bivouac. This is the only place on the whole of the GR 20 one is legally allowed to camp. We stopped here for a while and met a pleasant German couple called Stephan and Sissi also walking the trail. Stephan was from Freiburg and was studying internal medicine and nephrology. I think Sissi was a teacher.
Further on was a big climb over Monte Alcudina 2134 meters which was now in cloud and uninviting. It was a matter of first gear and switching off as we ground our way upwards. The summit had a fallen concrete cross on top. We did not delay and carried on along the ridge to the steep descent to the Refuge d’Ascinau at 1530 meters in the next valley. Across the valley I could see the Aiguilles de Bavella that were very striking.
The refuge was crowded and I vacillated between camping and carrying on. In the end I found a quiet place near the refuge to camp in so we stayed. We had a penache and later cooked our meal in the refuge. The gardien was aloof and told Stephan not to use his gas burner in the hut. People kept arriving and I was so pleased we were camping outside.
We left early and had planned on a high level crossing over the Aiguilles de Bavella. This proved to be a hard grind up to the aiguilles. Once there it was an interesting route around the aiguilles with a delicate climb up a steep slab with a chain in one spot.
The view all around was of steep pillars of rock and Laricio pines. Then there was a steep descent down a loose rock gully to the Col de Bavella where we were overwhelmed with the tourists with numerous cars and buses. There is a village here where we stopped for a meal. As it was quite early we pushed on to Refuge d’ l Paliri in misty conditions. We left on a road and then a narrow path climbed up for several hundred meters to a narrow gap, the Foce Finosa looking eerie in the mist. From here it was downhill and then a sidle to tall pine forest where the mist cleared. Shortly afterwards we came to one of the most spectacular refuges on the whole trip, the Refuge d’ L Paliri situated at 1055 meters on a ridge with spectacular views all around of pink granite perks and gorgeous Laricio pine forest.
We lazed around, then had a cold shower and slept in the refuge with a room-mate who snored abdominally.
Our last day was a long haul to Concha, the village at the southern end of the GR20. We dropped all day into the maquis that is the low bush and herb all in flower. The day was warm and off to the left the blue Mediterranean beckoned. On we marched loosing height, down and down meeting large numbers of hikers making their way upwards. At first we traversed to a gap past spectacular pinnacles of rock and then to the right descending in pine forest to suddenly climb to a rocky gap, the Bocca di u Sordu. The path then continues to the ruined Bergeries de Capeddu where there was an incongruous skip of rubbish in the woods! From here we dropped through open scrub to the Ruisseau de Punta Pinzuta that we crossed and then down its true left bank.
Further on the route crossed the creek and climbed steeply over another ridge and sidles around the head of a valley and then down its right flank to the Bocca d’Usciolu. Below were the terracotta roofs of Concha. We arrived at 14:30. We went into the Gite d’Etape La Tonnelle and had a penache. Fisch was in high spirits. We booked into the Gite, demi-pension and spent the afternoon roaming around the town that was deserted being a Sunday with everything closed. Our room was very cozy in a lovely house behind the main building. Next day we took the navette to Porto Vecchio.
Next morning we had the usual French breakfast of bread and coffee. On the navette we struck up a convervation with a couple called Jean Baptiste ad his Chinese wife Xiaowei.
They live in Paris and he worked in a bank and Xiaowei was an underpaid architect. As we had no plans for Porto Vecchio we decided to spend the day with them till their bus left for Figari. Boy could they eat!! We found a nice room in a hotel and had a 3-course meal in the citadel that evening. Next day I saw Fisch off on the bus to Ajaccio and later that evening caught my bus to Figari and my flight back to London.
An account of the GR20 running from Calenzana to Concha, a distance of about 190 kilometers, across the spine of Corsica. The first half was walked solo by Stanley Mulvany and from Vizzavona he was joined by Fischer Thomas 15-30th May 2010.
