Saturday 12th
The 6am wakeup and belated car packing don't make for an ideal start to the week, but the trip to the ferry terminal and boarding go smoothly, so shortly after 8.30am we sail out of Toulon harbour past a Spanish aircraft carrier and into the calm, open water of the Mediterranean. A 90 minute nap revives a grumpy Sogwig, we successfully negotiate lunch with a grumpy Italian waiter and get our first sighting of l'Île de Beauté. Shortly after two in the afternoon, the ferry docks, disgorges its load, and we successfully navigate through the narrow streets of Ajaccio and onto the Route des Sanguinaires. Fifteen minutes later we find our home for the week and relax in the sun dappled garden for the next hour while the caretaker finishes cleaning and grumbling about the previous week's occupants leaving late.
Sunday 13th
A lie-in and breakfast in the sunshine on the terrace are cut short as la bienheureuse and I drive north to collect le frère aîné from Bastia airport. As we leave Ajaccio behind us and climb into the mountains, the sun disappears behind threatening clouds. The route is winding and impressively scenic nonetheless, and we reach the airport two hours later. Big brother is retrieved, and we make the return trip intending to stop off for lunch en route. A thunderstorm puts paid to that idea and we content ourselves with refuelling on quiche and pastries in Bocognano. We return to the house to find the sun hiding behind clouds and our companions all having siestas. Hard work being on holiday.
Sunshine makes a late afternoon reappearance, which means a game of boules in the garden and another BBQ on the dining agenda. G&Ts followed by dinner taken in the conservatory - salmon and cream cheese hors d'oeuvres, slow cooked meat accompanied by a tasty tomato sauce rustled up by the master chef, cheese, with chocolate tart to finish. Never under feed when you can over eat.
Monday 14th
Clear blue skies greet us on our first day of Corsican diving. Early breakfast and by 9am we are milling around at the dive centre on an Ajaccio beach itching to get into the water. Our hosts are impressed by the 4 stars on the First Class Diver's qualification card, but less impressed when she almost drowns before we even leave the beach. Fortunately I'm on hand to effect a rescue and we are soon zipping across the water on a large RIB with inboard engine towards the first dive site, Campanina, a large rock hosting a navigation beacon on the opposite side of the gulf of Ajaccio. A lovely dive, with spectacular underwater topology, sundry scorpion fish, moray eels, groupers and hundreds of transparent sea squirts.
After pizzas for lunch in a beachside paillotte, we return for a second dive. This time, having been assessed as competent during the morning, we are allowed to dive unaccompanied at a site only a couple of hundred metres from the first. E sette nave is another series of spectacular rock formations, above and underwater, at the Pointe de l'Isolella. More scorpion fish and morays, fewer tunicates, but an impressive pinnacle and a lovely swim through in shallow water are the highlights. We return to the north side of the bay dive-satisfied and arrange to return on Wednesday. Meanwhile the cycling chef has completed his first 100km jaunt of the week, and le frère and Ms Beaucoup have been for a stroll in Ajaccio and an abortive attempt to find the walking path in the hills behind.
Tuesday 15th
The clouds roll in overnight, and we all rise late. By late morning hangovers have receded enough to get everybody moving, and we set off for a drive along the coast road towards Porto. Despite the overcast skies, the scenic coastal and mountain route is enchanting, and we stop for lunch in a pleasant restaurant in Sagone. Pressing on, we reach our main objective, les Callanche de Piana by mid afternoon. Spectacular is an inadequate word to describe the views of the Golfe de Porto and the red rock cliffs and calanques. We eventually find space to park on the precipitous, winding, tourist-clogged road and get out to gape and snap. Drinking in the scenery reminds us of other things to imbibe, and we carry on down into Porto. Abandoning the soggy diver to sleep and fret in the car we stroll around the port and finish up in a restaurant terrace overlooking the harbour.
The rain starts to fall on the return journey, and as we take the hilly, back route through Ajaccio the streets turn into the rivers and the storm drains into geysers. Back at the villa the thunder and lightning roar. No matter, inside the G&Ts and rosé wine continue to flow, and we feast on leftovers and cheese.
A cloudy start to another diving morning, but as we leave the beach in Ajaccio, the sun makes a welcome return. The boat heads in the same direction as Monday but stops a hundred metres short of the coast at a site known as the Tête de Mort. A pinnacle that rises from 40 metres to a few centimetres below the surface, it has snared many an unwary fishermen in the past, hence the name. And a stunning dive it is too. Plunging walls, schools of bream, morays, scorpion fish, an arrow-head shaped rock and a trapped bubble of air beneath an overhang.
While we play beneath the waves, the above water trio head upwards to explore the hills above the route des Sanguinaires and watch the surf rolling in on the isolated beach of Minaccia. We regroup at the villa and spend the afternoon relaxing in the sunshine. In the evening G&T aperitifs have to be necked rather quicker than intended as a late rush to find an alternative taxi company results in travel into Ajaccio a few minutes earlier than planned. We thus arrive at 20123 in high spirits, and a highly enjoyable dinner and evening follows. The restaurant is named after the post code of the mountain village it was transplanted from, and recreates the square village in-house. The fixed menu of vegetable soup or cheese & ham quiche, roast lamb or veal ragout, cheese and dessert is delicious, and all the while we are entertained by a tuneful Corsican cappella group.
Thursday 17th
For our final dive of the fortnight we head out in the same direction, and after a minor communication problem is resolved we end up back at Death's Head. Another great dive ends, and we reluctantly bid goodbye to the Ragnole beaux gosses. They send us off in traditional Corsican fashion with midday aperitifs of Cap Corse and pastis. Meanwhile the non-divers have been into town to visit the market.
All bar the cycling chef (off out for another short 100km ride through the hills) head back to the villa to relax, but the peaceful afternoon is shattered by the sound of low flying aircraft. We rush out just in time to see the third Canadair water bomber fly over barely 100 feet above our heads. Amid much excitement we watch the three amphibious aircraft circle out into the bay and, one by one, skim across the water filling their tanks before lifting off again. Three times they repeat the exercise, apparently dumping water each time, and we decide they are on a training run rather than real life fire-fighting.
In the evening it's la chef Beaucoup's turn to cook. The morning visit to the market has produced three large bream, which she stuffs with onion and parsley. Meanwhile la bienheureuse gives a master chef lesson on tarte tatin making to Prof Margarita, and I busy myself preparing caipirinhas, a long and labour intensive process. Fortunately the fish takes rather longer to cook than expected, so we all have time to sup Brazilian rum and lime at our leisure. The bream and the tarte tatin are worth the wait and, as the drinking goes on deep into the night, the five litre box of rosé empties…
Friday 18th
Alack and alas, last day of the holiday. Late breakfast and a lazy morning (a quick cycle ride, and shopping trip to Ajaccio aside) are followed by a drive out along the route des Sanguinaires in search of a paillotte recommended by our dive centre friends. We end up in one which turns out not to be the one intended, but have a lovely lunch all the same in an idyllic beachside setting. Afterwards we continue to the end of the road, to la Pointe de la Parata to gaze out at the Îles des Sanguinaires. We stroll along the path round the point and the Genoese tower and then head up over the hills to swim and sunbathe on the Plage de Minaccia.
Saturday 19th
Ferry to Nice, drive around Nice trying to find the autoroute, make it to Toulon, somehow find the Margarita Man's hotel without map or directions, drop him off and then hit the road back to Lyon. We arrive just before nine in the evening, unload the car and eventually fall exhausted into bed, looking forward to a Sunday lie-in. No such luck. The soggy diver has an early flight the next morning, which means I'm up at 6am again for the trip to the airport. Looking forward to a relaxing week of lie-ins, back in the normal routine...
