What I like about Corsica

The pictures speak more or less for themselves. Corsica is a rough island. It's highest peaks are around 3.000 meters. Some are covered with snow all year round.
The population is small and mostly concentrated in a few towns and small villages, leaving the rest of the countryside for nature. The roads are well kept, but narrow and winding. Driving an overall distance of 50 kilometers along the westcoast will take 200 kilometers of road. If you reach an average speed of over 30 km/h you must be either a local or a suicidal maniac.
If there's no road where you think there should be one, there's probably a good reason. Take any shortcut, and you will likely end up trapped in brambushes, hanging like a spider on a vertical wall or balancing on the edge of a canyon. In my opinion, leaving the beaten track is great, but not if you'd like to get anywhere.

I've been there for a couple of years now, always on my own, always in low season. Late may and early june are perfect: Nice weather but not too warm, and long before the French and Italian beachcrowds start spoiling the place.

Like I said: Rough country.

The Peaks

Yes, Corsica has mountains. For me, their sheer size is mindboggling, whether I'm looking at them or spending a day climbing one. Pictures could never do them justice, but that's no reason not to show them anyway. These are taken in Haut Asco, a "skiing resort". Well, yes, I did find the remains of a skilift, that may have operated in some far history. On an average day in early june, you meet one or two people during a day of hiking.

Canyoning

Photographing streams is difficult. I find it almost impossible to make a picture that does any justice to the place. Still, I gave it a try.
I like climbing these streams. I have good canyoning shoes and a walking stick, but no real climbing gear. Whenever I would need that, I just call it a day and turn back. That leaves enough kilometers of rock-hopping, wading and short climbing challenges to keep me happy for days.

At the parkingspots, downstream of the rivers, you might meet some people. The first five minutes you'll walk through their shit and toiletpaper, but walk half an hour upstream and all traces of humans and civilisation are gone. I wish I had places like that in the Netherlands, to leave humanity behind me and meditate, read or think.

Sea kayaking

The mediterranian can look peaceful sometimes - but in a matter of hours it can change in quite an exhilerating ride in a kayak. Be prepared.
While the east coast is basically one long beach, the west coast is rocky. Rocky, as in lined with towering cliffs, sometimes half a kilometer straight up from the sea. Once more, it boggles the mind to think of the powers that have created this place, and the time it took. A story says it was created by the devil on an angry day. I'd say it was created by some god on a happy day. In the roughness and the obvious violent powers at work, there is so much detail, so much beauty, so much variety... If I actually believed in a god, I would thank him for creating this holy place, this temple.

Culture Mostly, I prefer nature above culture during my vacations. I don't visite the cultural sites and don't photograph them - but this little church I couldn't resist.
It carries a sign saying that entering is dangerous ("NE PAS ENTRER - DANGER"). I think that's good advice for any church: Entering religion can be dangerous to your health, welbeing, intelligence and ethics.

Life

I speak just enough French to order a meal or handle my shoppings. I can not socialize in it, so I spend my vacation in complete solitude. The only creatures I really have contact with are dogs. Corsica is full of them. I don't know whether the're strays or farmdogs taking a stroll. They are hardly after food, they keep their distance until invited. But when you've gained their trust the're great companions.

Here are some of the other inhabitants:

Trees

Although I don't like camping grounds, there is this one camping that I visit with pleasure, often to stay for a couple of days. It's a quiet place with a real friendly and easygoing host, but that's not the point. The point is the trees growing on the grounds. A kind of lifesized bonzai-trees. Once again, I have no clue what formed them or how old they are. They seem to belong in a fairytale: A people that was bewitched to become trees and have stood there, yearning and grasping for their freedom, for thousands of years...

It took me 3 years to get some decent pictures. It required the exact right cloud cover and exact right exposure - but I'm almost satisfied. I might get it right next year.

Corsica is overgrown with scenting herbs. A picture will not capture their smell, so I add some pictures of more visually pleasing plants.

Rocks

A special interest of mine: Rocks. Special rocks. These remind me of the work of sculpters Dali and Zadkine. Perhaps they found there inspiration right here.
What I like best is: You can touch these sculptures. You can stroke them, even climb them, marvelling at the natural forces that created these natural pieces of fine art.

The following pictures are from earlier vacations. They were taken with a low resolution camera. I've done what I can with the Gimp, but there's only so much you can compensate for - garbage in, garbage out. Try to ignore the technical quality and focus on the rocks themselves.

Camping

I've converted my small car to a kind of camper. I've taken out the right front seat and the backseat, and replaced them with a wooden floor from the dashboard to the rear bumper. That gives me a bed of 2.05 meters long, 50 centimeters wide. The car is completely furnished with a reading light, nighttable, blinds, pillows and stuffed animal. The tarp is used only for cooking in the rain: Mostly my camp just looks like a parked car. I do have a tent, but I like the solid enclosure of a car. It will stand any storm and even falling branches, I never have annoying rocks beneath my sleepingbag and my camp will not flood, like a tent can.
Camping outside campgrounds is prohibited, but not strictly enforced, at least not in low season. I like finding a deserted spot to secretly spend the night, far away from the usual hassle and noise of a camping. The deserted spots are commonly used as waste dumps. I find there's an irony in preferring human waste to the humans themselves...