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The Corsican Coast Road

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The Corsican Coast Road

Before finding our cabin for the month's rest we cycled along one of the most beautiful roads I've ever seen. The D81 road from Calvi was full of twists and turns. A narrow paved road between a rising mountain and a straight drop down to the sea. Peeking over the edge you could see seagulls and kites gliding below, with waves of salt water patiently grinding away at the rocks.

During the low season of winter this road was practically unused. However, far too frequently old remains of crashed cars reminded me of the dangers of roads like these. In Corsica it seems to be common to simply leave any destroyed car on the site of an accident. I've already seen more of these tragic remains than I can remember.

This didn't end well.

Despite these solemn reminders of the transience of life, I was having a great time. Isabelle and I had decided to split up for a couple days, to enjoy our separate adventures and get some important solitude. The first afternoon I discovered the ruins of a castle. It turned out to have been the home of Pierre Bonaparte, Napoleon's cousin. It was built only 150 years ago, despite looking like it had been abandoned for twice as long.

I happily spent the night there, in one of the most exotic camping places so far. Bright moonlight washed over the landscape. I peered through the holes that used to be windows, listening for any sounds of wild pigs in the fields below. My stay was undisturbed. The roof had collapsed long ago, so I fell asleep looking at the stars above.

Château du Prince Pierre Bonaparte

The views got even better further south around Piana. The light wasn't so good for photography while we were there, but I plan to return soon for another try, so I'll hopefully talk about that area more in a future update.

This road and Corsica in general has been some of the best that cycle touring can offer. Quiet roads, long distances between villages, plentiful nature, and gorgeous views enjoyed with a generous amount of time and freedom. That's all I ever wanted, so there's no need to hurry eastwards from here yet.

There's only a couple more days of resting left before it's time to return to the road. It has been great to recover and take my mind off the trip for a while, but I imagine getting back on the saddle will feel amazing as well.

A lot Corsican nature is just dry thorny bushes, but in some areas they actually have trees and forests as well.
If you can look at this photo and not get the desire to go on a bicycle adventure, there may be something wrong with you.
When I decide to settle down somewhere, I would like to have a view of both mountains and the sea.

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A Vagrant's Christmas

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A Vagrant's Christmas

After several weeks of being uncharacteristically social, I yearned back to the life of sleeping outdoors as a vagrant with a bicycle. So before Christmas we spent a couple nights in a tent. On the second evening the wind was so strong that we had to take refuge in a half-built garage beside an empty house. Three walls and a roof protected us perfectly from the storm raging outside.

Stomachs full with a delicious sausage and pasta dinner, we settled down to watch a documentary. Halfway through the film our concrete cave was suddenly filled by car headlights. Crap. The house wasn’t so empty after all. I exited my sleeping bag nervously. My French vocabulary was wildly insufficient for explaining why there were suddenly two people, a Cocker Spaniel, and a tent with Christmas lights in whoever’s garage it was.

Garage camping, or "glamping" as I like to call it.

Outside there was a woman who looked scared enough to call the police, but fortunately she wasn’t alone. Neither she nor the man she was with spoke English, but he just laughed it off and wished us a good night. Our luck held up once again. This scene certainly could’ve played out much worse.

The next morning was December 24th. While having breakfast, I was wondering why the dog trailer looked strangely tilted. Then I realised one of the tires was flat. Presumably due to me digging out some sharp rocks and spikes from the rubber the previous day. Merry Christmas.

A gorgeous flat tire lit by the beautiful morning sun.

After changing the tube, we continued a couple hours to near Orange where we had rented an Airbnb cabin for the night. We spent the evening drinking champagne in a sauna and a jacuzzi. Not exactly a traditional way to celebrate Christmas, nor the type of life I’m looking for most of the time. But sometimes it’s nice to enjoy a little luxury, just for a change.

One of France's numerous castles in one of France's numerous sunsets.
Avignon at sunset.

A few days later we passed Avignon and its famous half bridge. I gained a sudden appreciation for old architecture, and decided to make a detour. Isabelle found a place to stay and I continued at night towards Pont du Gard, a famous Roman aqueduct. I arrived at midnight to find the gates closed and a guard’s voice in the radio phone telling me to come back at 9am. I wanted a photo of the landmark at night, so that was unacceptable.

Google Maps offered an alternative way in, via the forest nearby. I pushed my bike through footpaths, trying to be discreet and unnoticed with my headlight. When I found the aqueduct, I discovered it was lit by brightly coloured lights. The colours changed slowly, and I took a time-lapse of the show while looking around.

There was no-one else there, so I had the whole aqueduct to myself. For a 2000-year-old building, it was extremely impressive. The massive size, and the fact that it was still standing two millennia later. All that with the tools and materials that had been available so long ago. The Roman empire accomplished some magnificent things in its time. And yet it fell down, just like the aqueduct eventually will.

Everything is impermanent. This bike trip, our lives, and all the nations and empires around us. So it’s better to spend our limited time focusing on things that matter. Whatever that may be. Or at least to relax and enjoy the ride.

The lights of Pont du Gard at night.
 

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