Don’t mess with Corsica: Part 2

11 June 2004 by Eleanor Beardsley    1141  
People say that if you want to discover the real soul of Corsica you have to go to her interior. Lying smack in the middle of Corsica is Corte (pronounced Kortay), a town known as the cultural and spiritual heart of the island. Again, a Genovese citadel is perched upon a summit, an animated town spills below, and all is surrounded by a crown of mountains.   In the center of Corte is a statue of Pascal Paoli, president of the Republic of Corsica during its years of autonomy between 1755 and 1769. Napoleon may be Corsica’s favorite son, but Paoli is the island’s national hero. During Corsica’s brief years of independence Paoli endowed his country with a democratic constitution during an era of dynasties and absolutism. I was told proudly that Paoli’s constitution had inspired many others, including our own. Paoli also founded a university in Corte. Of the town’s 7,000 inhabitants, 4,000 are students.   Corte is a condensed version of combat memories and the dreams of Corsican emancipation. We were drawn to a little bar called Cyrnea (its name means Corsica in Corsican) near the center of town by the sound of people speaking Corsican. While Corsican is related to old Italian, it sounds nothing like Italian today. A group of old-timers (men and women) sat out in chairs on the street drinking Pastis (a Mediterranean apértif made with aniseed), while the younger men inside played cards and wore t-shirts with slogans calling for Corsican armed resistance.   I struck up a conversation with 77-year-old Pierre Giannettin, who, as it turned out, had spent two years training at U.S. army bases during World War II as part of the 3,000-man Free French Air Force. Neither Pierre’s memory nor his English had dimmed in the last half of the century as he regaled me with stories. He asked me if there was still a Walgreens Drugstore in every town and told me how he had had great success with American girls. “They used to tell me, ‘kiss me like Charles Boyer,’” he remembered, smiling.   I asked Pierre the truth about the separatist tendencies in Corsica. Just how strong was this risistenza populara? Afterall, errant explosions are a regular part of Corsican news broadcasts and just three years ago a French official had been shot down in cold blood. His assailant, who has never been caught, is from Corte. Pierre, who had lived in Corte his whole life except for his stint at army bases in Alabama and South Carolina, told me that there were times of discontent in the 1960s when Corsica “felt like a French colony,” but that times were better now. “We are French in our soul,” he assured me. Then he lowered his voice when he told me that “those who claim to be separatists are just connected to the mafia.” I left my tête-ã-tête with Pierre reluctantly, but not before garnering several tips. One of those was that Corte’s Hôtel du Nord and adjoining Café du Cours are owned by Linda Colonna, from Cincinnati. Linda met Louis Colonna from Corte a couple of decades ago on a language trip to France. Although Linda was not there when we stopped by the Hôtel du Nord, Louis welcomed us and showed us around. Built in the 1870s, the Hôtel du Nord’s hallways and staircase are crafted from Corte marble. The spacious rooms are charmingly remodeled and have a view of the surrounding mountains. Fifty euros gets you a double room with breakfast at the bustling Café du Cours downstairs. The hotel also has a cyber room with 16 Internet points in case you want to reconnect with the outside world.   Corte is also a main stopping point on the GR-20, a 124-mile hiking trail that goes northwest to southeast along Corsica’s continental divide. The GR-20 is divided into 15 stages of five to eight hours’ walking each. It cuts through the Parc Naturel Régional de Corse, traversing spectacular wilderness scenery at altitudes of up to 6,500 feet; many of Corsica’s clear blue glacial lakes and coastal villages are only accessible by foot.  There are mountain hamlets, shepherds’ cabins and camping facilities along the way for sleeping. Most people also take detours down into villages to soak up Corsican culture and cuisine.. The GR-20 is rugged and beautiful but probably not advisable in August heat. If you do not want to take on the challenge for ten days, there are also walking trails of several hours that lead you up to various lakes and peaks. We left Corte by car through the Restonica Valley, where Lake Melo (lying above at 5,000 feet) sends down torrents of water into the natural gorges below. A swim in one of the clear blue pools and a picnic on the sandy, pine tree-lined shores of the Restonica Gorge will quickly restore you from the mid-day heat.    From Corte we made our way back to Calvi, where we unfortunately had a ferry to catch the next evening–but not before one more delicious experience. Following another good tip, we spent our last afternoon dining by the sea on a pristine, sandy beach looking across at the Bay of Calvi and its citadel.   The beach of Saint Restitude is just three miles north of Calvi. Turn left at a sign that says Le Pain Sucre (if you get to the town of Lumio you’ve gone too far), and go down a sandy road that leads you to a small, sandy parking area. Park, cross the train tracks by foot and you are there.   At Le Pain Sucre, a wooden beachfront restaurant with open-deck dining, you can emerge right from a swim to take your place at the table. Open for lunch and dinner, Le Pain Sucre served up perhaps the finest Corsican flavors of the entire week. After plump mussels in a sauce of cream, Muscat wine and saffron, I delighted in swordfish so fresh and lightly grilled that it was unrecognizable compared with any swordfish I had eaten before. For desert there was a cold parfait glacé covered with almond milk and mint leaves. I washed it all down with a dry Corsican white wine. As I savored the subtle flavors of my meal and soaked up the sun’s last lingering rays, I couldn’t help but wonder if my swordfish had been caught that very morning by Little Joe.   Practical Information   Hotels and Restaurants   Calvi
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By Eleanor Beardsley