Corsica

Most people race the RT10 between Bastia and Porto-Vecchio with the windows up and the radio on. Aléria sits right there on the eastern plain, easy to dismiss as a stop for gas and groceries. That would be a miss. What stays with me is not a cliff-edge citadel. It is a long, shallow lagoon … Read more

Most people meet Bonifacio from the water: a white town jammed onto a limestone blade, houses leaning over empty air, Sardinia a blue smear on a clear day. That cliff silhouette is why ferries slow and phones come out. The version I keep starts lower and harder on the legs. A steep cut of steps … Read more

People arrive in Porto-Vecchio already pointed at white sand. Palombaggia, Santa Giulia, pine shade, the turquoise shelf that looks invented for a magazine cover. Fair. Those beaches earn their reputation. The version of town I keep starts lower and stranger: old salt pans under the granite haute ville, pink birds on still water when the … Read more