After the month in the cabin, Isabelle and I split up to meet later in Sardinia. On my first night back on the road I couldn’t find a secluded spot so close to the capital Ajaccio. I ended up camping next to a “no camping” sign in some outdoor recreation area next to a beach. A cooling swim felt amazing after climbing uphills all day in summer weather.

 The views were nice and the water was warm.

When I was preparing to sleep, some young guys were pointing flashlights at my tent, clearly curious about something and talking among themselves. Peeking through the opening, I tried to gauge whether they were dangerous and planning to rob me. They started sneaking closer. That was scary, so I moved my passport under the mattress and tried to think of a battle plan.

Then one of them mimicked very exaggerated sex sounds and they all ran away giggling. Just some harmless kids. I was simultaneously annoyed and relieved.

 EAU NON POTABLE.

The following night I wanted more privacy, so chose to stay next to one of these chemical water tanks. Every winding small mountain road in Corsica seems to have at least one of them, always elevated a couple meters above the road. Around them can always be found even ground, and sometimes the tank provides perfect cover from passing traffic. Later I finally figured out they must exist for fighting forest fires, and it’s not the best area to hang out in case one occurs.

From Propriano I turned towards the mountains inland, to get away from heavy traffic between Ajaccio and Bonifaccio. A reliable source told me that the road over the mountains was much better for cycling and camping, despite the hills. I waited far into the afternoon to avoid climbing in the heat. At sunset a pair of beekeepers told me to turn back to the main coast road, because there were too many mountains ahead. After explaining that I’m a photographer looking for nice views, they changed their advice to go via Levie and Zonza, the toughest of my three route options. I thanked them and continued up the hill, mostly walking the bike.

 Sun going down in the mountains.

It got dark and I couldn’t find any ground suitable for camping on a road carved into the side of a hill. I found another tank, but it was protected by a gate and visible from the road. I passed a town called Sainte-Lucie-de-Tallano and kept climbing.

Saving the batteries in my headlamp, I moved by moonlight. Until I saw something moving ahead. I turned on my light to reveal that for the first time in my life, I was face to face with a wild pig. It wasn’t huge, only about the size of a labrador, and quietly standing staring back at me. I made some vague noises and got no reaction, so after some more staring I just started moving towards it. It ran away. I turned off the podcast I’d been listening to and cycled on slowly, hearing rustling and hooves in the dark forest on both sides of the road.

A few minutes later there was another water tank, and this time without a gate! But as soon as I stopped I heard another pig from somewhere very close to the place I would’ve put my tent on. This one wasn’t quiet. It was growling, and sounded monstrously large in the darkness. I got the hell out of there quickly. Fortunately I’d reached the top of the hill and the road turned downwards. Now there was more open ground, but for the next half hour every time I stopped there were pig sounds in the bushes. Great.

At 1am I came to a town called Levie and found a bar that was open. I asked for advice for my predicament, and the owner and several customers said I should go to the football stadium a couple kilometres outside of town. I’d be safe there, and no one would bother me.

So I head there. Upon arrival I see that the “stadium" is just a fenced in field with goal posts. And of course I hear several wild pigs running away. Great, thanks for the advice guys. I scanned the field with my beam and found one still inside, apparently trapped by the fence. It looked scared and I was getting sleepy and frankly tired of all these pigs, so I just entered the field while it went around me in a big circle and exited through the gate.

After some thought I figured I’d be safe enough. In the forest it would be more dangerous, because they might be protecting their own territory. Whereas even a pig would understand that a football field isn’t its home, and when a human enters, visiting hours are over. But mainly I was just too damn tired to care.

I pitched my tent in a corner of the grass and slept without interruptions.

 Turned out to be a nice campsite in the end.
 Palm trees at the beach.

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