[May 2025]

Corsica. I have found my spiritual home.

The exquisite port of Bonifacio, with our ship center left. That thick green covering the opposite cliff is called the maquis, which is a mixture of plants and herbs, like immortelle, rosemary, thyme, juniper, sage, lavender, and more, all of which perfume the air of the island and make every inhalation a joy. Forty-five percent of Corsica is a nature preserve.

Bonifacio was one of the few ports we visited that had only been invaded once in its history, when the plague decimated the population to the point that there weren’t enough of them left to resist. The immensity of that cliff top fort shows how intent they were on their own defense otherwise. That close up is the captain looking serious, with the pilot looking much less so standing behind him at the auxiliary controls literally backing us into port. Yes, backing, as in stern first. And the slip was about a third the length of the ship.

The mountains behind Calvi. With snow on them, no less.

That farmer’s market in Porto-Vecchio. All of these products are proudly AOC (Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée) and those people standing behind those tables are the people who make those products with their own hands. I want to buy a house within walking distance of that market. The French eat so much better than we do. Although, sadly, I did see a McDonald’s in Marseille.

Chatter Random Saturday Bonifacio Calvi Corsica Porto Vecchio