MOTORHOME TRAVELLERS' DIARY FOR AUGUST 1998

CORSICA

Barry and Margaret Williamson

01 AUGUST 1998 F CAMPING LE SOLEIL, TATTONE, VIVARIO

A slightly cooler day with a hint of (very welcome) showers. Margaret worked on the diary, preparing July for printing. Barry washed the dust off our fleet and topped Alf's battery up - like us, he needs a lot of water to climb in this climate. Later we watched the beginning of an Inspector Morse video, 'Fat Chance', which we'd never seen. We were left suitably intrigued.

A beautiful morning's ride, on the back road from Vivario, round lavender corner in Muracciole (a cottage with a fragrant hedge right on the bend), over the Col d'Erbajo (920 m/3000 ft) where a French family had stopped to photograph a herd of pigs in the woods (must be their first day!) and down towards Vezzani. Just before the village we turned left onto an even quieter road to extend our usual 25 mile ride by cycling over the Col de Perelli (720 m/2362 ft) and on to the tiny hillside village of Antisanti. The church bells rang for noon as we arrived and sat by the new war memorial with our squash and chocolate. Muracciole has a similar new granite memorial, though Vivario has only got as far as the concrete plinth. There was a wide hazy view from Antisanti of the coast and the lagoons at Aleria 15 miles away, with the road dropping sharply to sea level, so we returned to Vezzani. Sunday lunchtime pizzas were on offer at the 3 Graces but we resisted the temptation as we drank freely at the fountain before the climb back, pausing again at the Vivario drinking fountain before the final ascent.

After a late lunch we relaxed in the sunshine and later watched the end of 'Inspector Morse'. The sultry heat is building up to a storm.

We were woken by a terrific electric storm, fork lightning illuminating the sky in eerie silence, then thunder crashing and rain lashing. Barry was out at 3 am to roll in the awning and saw plenty of torch-lit activity on the campsite as guy lines were tightened and pegs hammered. Over breakfast we saw a pall of smoke rising from the forest high on the slopes of Monte d'Oro directly opposite our door. Pierre proudly told us that he'd seen the lightning strike at 4 am and had immediately rung the gendarmes and sapeurs pompiers. They certainly took it seriously, and we watched with umbrella, binoculars and camera as helicopters hovered and sprayed red powder over the trees. Then 2 groups of 3 twin-engined airforce planes came in several times. Each plane circled twice above the fire before dropping lower and dropping clouds of water onto the smoke. Luckily the wind had died away, rain fell later in heavy showers and by mid-morning they were satisfied that the fire was out. Barry photographed the aircraft in action - and we might have left for a ferry yesterday and missed all this drama!

After lunch the showers were dying out and we rode into Vivario to shop and collect the post: Alf's insurance papers from Comfort and a packet of mail which mum had sent to Bastia. A pleasant afternoon/evening was spent reading the letters from mum and from friends A bold one in mixed German/Austrian dialect/English from Hertha and John, with photographs from the Aginara barbecue of 15 February, repeatedly asked 'Where are you?'; Ian Inglis wrote of the birth of Hannah in June; Jeff Mason enclosed a poem given him by a friend who had recently died; Roland Proctor sent a fascinating letter and a postcard from Canada; Sue Sykes sent a sadder card about Sam's illness. Turning to business, there was a very helpful reply from Patricia Milton (MMM's new consultant on America and Australia), who knew us from our articles and asked if we'd like to be put in touch with Glen & Steve Swatman, who'd written with similar queries. (We know them only too well from meeting on the Brindisi ferry and at Onda Azzurra last March!) There was also information from the US Embassy, Canadian High Commission, Midland Bank and an RV mag with an appalling article by Ray Nipper on buying an RV in the USA.

The rain has stopped, the air is fresher and pleasantly cooler at 70-80º instead of 80-90º. In the morning Barry wrote back to Patricia Milton and to Wallenius Lines about shipping to America. We sent MMM's cheque (for South-East Enders) to Midland Jersey and also requested information on their Gold Visa card, health insurance and banking services in America. Barry also sent a letter of protest to Victor Millwell insurance about Alf's increased premium. Margaret did some cleaning, then had yet more French conversation practice with the girls in reception - the 2 sisters who are Pierre's nieces have been joined by his grand-daughter.

After lunch we walked up behind the hospital and through the woods following a path which we thought would provide a short-cut to Canaglia. In fact it was very overgrown and climbed steeply over a bluff before dropping to the river near Canaglia. We returned along the road, a round walk of about 1½ hours.

Barry adjusted and greased Rosie's awning and mended the split in his walking boots with thread and glue, though the soles are getting worn. Later we watched the start of another 'Touch of Frost' repeat, 'Widows and Orphans'. David Jason really was good in that role.

A 100-mile motorbike day, via Vivario post office and Corte to Ponte Leccia where we stopped for a flask of coffee by the river. It was very warm and humid by mid-day, on the road which climbs the Asco Gorge for 20 miles. We turned off to look at the hill village of Moltifao, then continued past 3 campsites before the road narrowed and twisted steeply through the gorge to Asco and then up through forest to the Haut Asco ski station at 1420 m/4659 ft. Here a gîte d'étape, hotel, restaurant and small shop supply the GR20 walkers, probably 2 days from the start/ finish at Calenzana. There is also a scruffy assortment of chalets and buildings associated with the ramshackle ski-lift. We had our picnic lunch, looked at the cloud coming down on the range which includes Monte Cinto, Corsica's highest peak at 2706 m/8877 ft, and turned for home. Descending, the change in vegetation was marked, from fir and beech forest down to cactus, vines and olives at the lower end of the gorge. We checked the campsites on our way back, looking for our next base. The Asco Municipal a couple of miles below the ski-station was ideal for tents, but not accessible to well-built motorhomes. Lower down near Moltifao the 'Tizarella' was the best of the 3, the 'Cabanella' was very small, and a new site by a restaurant with dancing had been taken over by gipsies with a large dog. On the main road from Ponte Leccia to Corte, near the America Garage, camping 'Griggione' was another possibility, but again had a gipsies in residence.

Back in Corte we left a film for developing, photocopied the July diary for mum and some enclosures for Patricia Milton, searched out the best shop with walking boots for Barry (£50 - £100, decision pending), shopped at the supermarket, with new sunglasses for £5 each, and of course bought petrol and a poulet rôti.

We reached Tattone just before rain set in for the evening and a surprise awaited us in the form of an English campervan, an M-reg Holdsworth Vista hi-top from Brownhills, parked alongside Rosie. We found Rod and Margaret Shaw within, on holiday from Huddersfield (Golcar)!! They joined us later with a bottle of Corsican Myrtle wine, while thunder and lightning rolled overhead, and we learnt a little about their lives and what is happening in West Yorkshire. They bought the camper 3 years ago when Rod (now 60) retired from primary teaching in Birkby, and Maggy (47) is still teaching juniors in Holmfirth. Their passions are ski-ing and orienteering/walking, and on arrival in Corsica they'd stayed on the Municipal at Haute Asco which we saw today and climbed Monte Cinto. They told of ski-ing down the Mont Blanc glacier from the Aiguille du Midi cablecar station, with a guide, causing Maggy the first case of frostbite that their doctor in Golcar had ever seen! It was good to talk to our first English-speaking neighbours since Sicily.

We said goodbye to the Shaws who left for Vizzavona to walk the Cascade des Anglais path before driving to Corte. We gave them some back numbers of the MMM (always pleased to clear space in our cupboards) and wished they were staying longer. Then a cleaning and maintenance day, including running Rosie's engine until warm and recharging the battery for 24 hours. It started first time and sounded good - we must all be getting restless.

To our delight and surprise Rod and Maggy returned in the early evening - they'd walked the GR20 to the top of the ridge (our furthest point in that direction) and then gone on to scale Monte d'Oro, wearing trainers and carrying little food and water as they'd only gone out for a short stroll! What an amazing pair - so unassuming in appearance, so impressive in reality. They joined us at 9 pm when we thought they'd want a quick cup of coffee before falling asleep, but they brought their Scrabble set! We got out the crisps, coconut buns and the last of our Hungarian 'St Hubertus' liqueur (which Rod said was exactly like French Chartreuse, at a fraction of the price), and we let Maggy win the Scrabble (actually, there was no stopping her!)

Rod and Maggy decided to have an easy day's hiking with us before going up the Restonica Gorge to climb Mount Rotondo tomorrow. The 'easy day' involved walking 12½ miles with a climb of 800 m/2800 ft! We left at 9.30 and used the short cut to Canaglia we'd walked last Tuesday, then took the path along the river Manganello, part of the Mare a Mare Nord route, to the junction with the GR20. We chose to turn right, still following the river as it climbed past the Bergeries de Tolla then more steeply to the waterfall which we'd reached on 5 July. We ate our lunch here, watching a French couple diving and swimming in the rock pool while we bathed our feet. There were lots of large tadpoles in the water (newts?), 3 types of lizards darting among the warm rocks, and some dull grey grasshoppers, well camouflaged until they flew, with bright blue wings like butterflies. The spring flowers are all gone but there was plenty of wild mountain thyme scenting the air when trodden underfoot. We continued climbing for another hour to a higher waterfall, very hot now we'd left the shade of the forest behind, hoping to see the Bergeries de Muraccioli we'd reached from Pont du Vecchio on 21 July, or even the Refuge de Petra Piana, but both were hidden from view high above. Returning, we stopped at the Bergerie de Tolla, as we'd smelt omelettes cooking there earlier. Sadly, the old shepherd's wife wasn't serving and he could only manage beer or coca-cola. We had 2 rounds of coke and talked with Uwe and Marian Schlegel from Dresden who'd just come down off Monte Rotondo (Uwe spoke a little English, no French) and the Corsican shepherd (just a little French). Uwe, a trainer of apprentices, spoke of the first time they were able to leave the DDR and go to the Alps, which they saw through tears of joy. We finally arrived home at 7.30 and made our own omelettes.

We had another late night of conversation and Scrabble (this time we let Rod win!) We'd learnt a lot about (and from) these two people. Rod had spent 12 years with the RAF, working in mountain rescue in various countries, before training college in Bingley, where he met Maggy who'd gone straight from school. He'd spent his college holidays working as a mountain guide in Austria, and been one of the pioneers of orienteering in England, in which he's still very active. They go ski-ing at Christmas (on a package in the Alps or Bulgaria) and at Easter (using the campervan based in the Dolomites), and walking/climbing for a month in the summer. You wouldn't imagine any of this on first meeting this very modest pair. We asked Maggy if they'll go away at half-term and she said 'No, I take the Brownies on pack holiday then!' The pressure is now on her to quit teaching, rent out the house, get a bigger van . . . (who gave them this idea?) . . . but we think the Brownies will win. She has a 4-year waiting list to join her pack!

We bade farewell again to Rod and Maggy, who are moving towards a ferry to Nice in a week's time via a few more peaks, promised to stay with them in Golcar (should we ever return to Huddersfield) and gave them our 'Trekking in Greece' book to inspire their future travels. They said they'd never stayed so long on one site before (3 nights!) Missing them, after such a briefly intense friendship, we decided to go into Corte for the rest of the morning.

We collected the film (disappointing, with some of the photos out of focus - is it another fault on the Minolta?), visited the supermarket and launderette, and got a pair of special Adidas innersoles each for our boots, as recommended by Rod to cushion the heels and relieve knee strain. Cheaper than a new pair of boots for Barry. Haircuts were postponed again on seeing the queues (and the prices) and we returned. The marquees opposite the petrol station, which M had thought were a fair, turned out to be a Corsican political rally of some sort, with riot police parked discreetly nearby, so we didn't linger.

Back at Tattone we read, wrote and watched the dhobi dry in the sunshine.

Leaving Barry to read in the sun, M cycled to Vivario, with a detour to look at Camping Savaggio. This claims its own railway station (between Tattone and Vivario) but in fact it's further from its station than we are from Tattone. It was a very scruffy site, down a steep unmade lane, unsuitable for vans or caravans, and more expensive than ours. The school camp grounds were quite separate and looked better equipped. In Vivario the village fête (or Kermesse in French!) was underway in the Place de l'Eglise with a few stalls, tombola, etc. Home-made jam (£3 a jar) and cakes (£5 upwards) made M think she should set up in business. Rang mum, who is OK apart from an arthritic knee, to thank her for the post and arrange for further deliveries to Vivario. Our returned videos have arrived safely.

It's very hot and still again and the campsite is busy - the French family holiday season is well underway.

Another heatwave has arrived and we're not surprised to hear on the radio that last month was the hottest July ever recorded worldwide. They are even dying of heat exhaustion in Cairo, where they should be used to it. Margaret cycled into Vivario again to post letters to Tricia Milton and to mum (with July diary and photos of Crete), and wrote the diary up to date. Barry is deep in the sub-continent thanks to VS Naipaul's book 'India'. Later we watched the end of Inspector Frost's 'Widows and Orphans' video.

In which we hike 2½ hours from the Val d'Ese ski station and see the Lac de Tolla

A long day's ride on Alf with a mid-day walk and picnic. We took the main Ajaccio road over Vizzavona and through Bocognano, then turned left on D27 hoping for a short cut to avoid some of the climbing to Bastelica. However, the road was unmade and impassable (except perhaps on foot or bicycle) beyond the Cascade and we returned to the N193, turning left lower down to climb the twisting minor road through Tavera and over the Col de Scalella to the ancient village of Bastelica, on the slopes of Monte Renoso at 800 m/2625 ft. Famous for its mountain cheeses and charcuterie, it's also the birthplace of Sampiero Corso, a 16thC hero of the struggle for independence from Genoa. We saw his statue in the centre, but not his house. The attraction for us was the road up to the Val d'Ese ski-station at 1622 m/5322 ft, where we left Alf in the shade of the shuttered huts and ski-lift, and set out on a track marked by red dots and signposted 'Pozzi'.

The path crossed high meadows, popular with a herd of huge, far-from-wild pigs, and through a small beechwood where we ate our lunch, before climbing through maquis-strewn granite to an Ancient Refuge at 1800 m/5905 ft. This was deserted but open providing a musty shelter, complete with fireplace and visitors' book. We climbed a little higher to the point where the path dropped to the Bergeries des Pozzi in the distance below, then returned to Alf at the ski-station, total about 4 miles. Back at Bastelica, 12 miles below, we took the scenic route towards Ajaccio, following the D3 along the northern side of the lake/reservoir of Tolla. The road dropped to the coast, the vegetation changing dramatically through orchards of walnut, apple and chestnut to the lower-level palm trees, orange groves and Mediterranean plants.

We got much-needed petrol and cold drinks in Bastelicaccia, near Ajaccio airport, where it was even hotter at sea level, then returned to Tattone along the N193, pausing only to buy some grapes from a stall by a vineyard (which we didn't on finding them sold only by the boxful at 50 FF!)

A good deal was struck over breakfast, when a young German couple approached us, asking for petrol to get their car as far as Corte (with an empty tank and a ferry to catch!) Luckily, we had Alf's 5-litre can full and, though not bleifrei, they insisted on paying us 50 FF for the contents (nearly double its price).

Barry wrote to Brian and Dhana Underwood about their Indian connections while M baked an apricot sponge cake and gingerbread. Later we went into Vezzani to refill both Alf's tank and (Jerry) can, still with 14 FF in hand! We could see columns of smoke from forest fires beyond Corte, with planes flying over them, and noticed more pompiers stationed at the roadsides. We kept out petrol can well covered. There is no sign of storm or rain and the temperature is over 90º. We came back the long way, through the hamlet of Noceta and down to the Pont de Noceta, an old stone arched bridge over the Vecchio. It's a popular bathing place, busy in the afternoon heat, with local lads diving in from the bridge. The road rambled back up to Venaco, past the small campsite of Peridundellu, and we returned by the main road through Vivario.

In the evening we planned and packed for an ascent of Monte Renoso tomorrow.

In this heat, the only sensible direction is upwards. Alf took us over the Col de Sorba and on to the Capannelle Ski Station (1600 m or 5250 ft), where we'd left him once before (22 June). Today the cattle had moved up to higher pastures and the restaurant we'd thought abandoned was open as a snack bar/dormitory for the GR20 - indeed, it had a new roof and was being rebuilt. We downed our flask of coffee and left Alf at 11.10 am to see if our fitness and stamina had improved.

We followed our previous route until we could see Lake Bastani (well hidden in its glacial hollow), then struck up to the ridge across what had been a snowfield. Now there were only tiny pockets left in deep crevices, and we made faster progress to the ridge of Punta Bacinellu: one of those magical places from which you see both sides of the island. Then a fairly easy walk across a windy high plateau, past a flock of dejected sheep without a blade of grass, and a final climb to the summit of Monte Renoso, at 2352 m/7715 ft Corsica's 5th highest peak, just below Monte d'Oro. The summit was marked by a new wooden cross, the old one lying on the granite rocks alongside. We ate our lunch there at 1 pm (after 1 hr 40 min climbing time) among the Alpine Choughs we'd startled. (Thought they were Ravens or Choughs, but identified on return by yellow beak.) It was a wonderful feeling, looking down on everything, even the birds. The coasts were visible but too hazy to make out Ajaccio or Sardinia beyond. The descent was sometimes tricky on the loose dusty scree but we were safely down by 3.10 pm, 4 hours including breaks, exactly the same time we'd taken before just to the ridge.

The 1½ hr ride home in the late afternoon sunshine was beautiful, pausing to drink at the first (and best) of the 4 springs on the road over Sorba. A workman resting there after fitting a stone cover (to stop tourists washing their feet in it!) told us the new cross on the summit was only a week old, and that one of the fires we'd seen yesterday had destroyed 600 hectares/1500 acres of forest near Corte.

Still very hot, though some relief from the SW breeze. We spent a restful day reading and filing, writing a letter of congratulation to Ian and Alison Inglis, and updating the diary. Also rewatched the video 'March in Windy City', with David Jason as an unconvincing British agent. Come back Inspector Frost!

Starting early to beat the heat, we climbed the Col de Sorba (1311 m/4300 ft) in a record 1 hr 15 min, not breaking our rhythm, or seeing a car, until the top. The view back towards Venaco was clear, with no smoke plumes today. The descent was exciting and soon after 10 we were back home drinking coffee after our climb of 510 m/1700 ft.

We also did some cleaning, inside (M) and outside (B), and had an interesting talk with one of the Czech campers who'd arrived on the usual ancient bus for a night. A fit and articulate 59 year old, he worked hard to communicate, in English learnt at college 35 years ago. He'd served 2 years in prison for speaking out against the Communist system in the old days, but was already disillusioned with capitalism, thought the split from Slovakia a mistake, and could see no happy future as the gap widened between the few who'd got rich at the expense of the many unemployed. Yes, he agreed, we're free to travel now, but can barely afford to. Those in camping buses bring all their food, just buying bread, and one French baguette represents 30 minutes' wages. And they're despised as tourists who spend nothing - but how can they? We at least knew something of what he'd been through, spoke of the Prague spring, Dubcek, and our travels through Czechoslovakia both before and after the Iron Curtain. Barry gave him a present of ½ a bottle of Scotch whisky (bought duty free last time we left Britain) and he insisted on reciprocating with a sample of Czech fire-water in a plastic Sprite bottle from the bottom of his holdall! It may serve to light a barbecue!

Later a brief thunder storm and heavy downpour cleared the air for a pleasantly cooler night, moist pine needles scenting the air.

We woke to a temperature of 66º, much cooler after the storm, but fine and dry and perfect for a morning's walk. The Czech bus had left early but we found a nice note from our new friend (whose name began with Z?) on our outdoor table. Feeling good about all this, we left Alf by a microwave station at the end of a short lane south off the Vizzavona Col and walked up through the beech forest, past another Bergerie de Pozzi (a popular name), clearly in use, with a horse, donkey and sheep, though a couple of young men camped in an outhouse said the Berger was away. From there a steep track led up the open hillside to the giant cairn of rock known as La Madonuccia (it's supposed to resemble the Virgin) then onto the Punta Grado, topped by a pylon, broken and rusty, at 1602 m/5255 ft. There was a splendid view across to Monte d'Oro and down to the Col de Vizzavona with the road snaking as far as Bocognano - an excellent vantage point for identifying all the scenery we'd been clambering over in recent weeks. The path petered out into the maquis beyond, so we enjoyed our squash and gingerbread and made our way back down, after a climb of 450 m/1480 ft (from a start of 1150 m/3770 ft). Home for lunch, where the temperature had risen to almost 90º, and a relaxing afternoon - B is reading a new book on Napoleon which Dick gave us, M is perusing the Rough Guide to Corsica, which is well above their usual standard.

Another excellent morning for walking, after a short ride on Alf to the car park and picnic area just before the Col, empty at 9.45 am. We climbed the track through the woods to the ruins of the Genoese Fort of Vizzavona, then continued scaling the pathless hillside to the Punta alla Corbajola, 1457 m/4780 ft, high above the Cascade des Anglais. A magnificent viewpoint over the forested peaks, marked by a large cairn, a good resting place before scrambling down through a heavily wooded valley and up again to emerge on the Punta del Ceppo at 1632m/5355 ft. Bocognano, the new bridge over the Gravona and even the hazy coast at Ajaccio were laid out below us. The ridge was little used, except by animals, and sadly we couldn't go down to join the GR20 Cascade route back since the way was blocked by dense bushes and steep cliffs.

After lunch we Alfed into Vivario to buy fruit and veg and post the letter to the Inglis family. The campsite is getting busier - by teatime the area reserved for Camping Cars could only be described as full when 3 more arrived, plus 2 Czech buses, one with a trailer of bicycles, and all squeezed in! The tent fields below are also busy, but it's remarkably peaceful after dark (thanks to the lack of lights and early closing of the small bar), or do we sleep too well to notice after our climbs and rides?

We took Alf to the hotel in Vezzani to fill his tank and 5-litre can (it may be a 25 mile round trip, but it's the nearest!) The 2 new French words we've learnt recently are le bidon and la crevaison (petrol can and puncture)! We talked to a Dutch couple from Arnhem, leaving the site because it had become too crowded, and to Pierre, who vowed that future Czech buses must park outside the gates. (He enforced this for the next bus, then relented.) Ironically, it rained hard after lunch, more campers left and by the end of the day it was very peaceful again! M walked across to the Clinic where the Dutch had seen a cat with 4 young and saw the pretty kittens peeping from a kennel, too tiny and timid to venture out. The 2 men who live at Tattone station were at rifle practice, aiming at a target on a tree across the railway line! Seems it's open season on sangliers and tourists both.

Into Corte for the usual round of launderette, supermarket, photographer's and bank. We tried an electrician's suggested by Pierre (for the microwave) but the technician was on holiday. At the office of the Parc Naturel in the Citadelle we found a leaflet Balades en Corse: Venachese describing walks from Venaco. We returned, laden as ever, detouring to St Pietro de Venaco to check the starting point for the highest of these walks. Alf is a very patient beast of burden.

He was rewarded with an oil change when we got back, and Barry also put new foam draughtproofing strip round Rosie's main door (ready for winter?) The afternoon heat built up, quickly drying the washing before a sudden brief storm. We heard the thunder and the sky became very black with what seemed to be dark clouds (no rain), then we realised the firefighting planes were coming in low over Canaglia! We rode towards Vivario, where a plume of smoke was rising from the forest behind the hill which is crowned with the ruin of the Pasciolo Fort. In the layby about a mile before Vivario we joined the spectators, Forestry and Fire Brigade vehicles in their fire-watching. The flames were just dying out and luckily there was no wind to fan them. Pierre had taken a Range-Rover-load to watch, abandoning the campsite to its fate! The planes kept coming in and Barry later returned for another look while M made the supper. He saw a helicopter land in the layby, bringing some firemen back from the scene.

There was very heavy rain throughout a day spent writing and baking. Barry wrote in reply to Christine Jarvis, with the piece on Corsica and a photo of the mountains. M turned the rest of yesterday's poulet rôti into a chicken, ham and mushroom pie (as a change from curried leftovers) and made an apple bakewell tart (using a couple of Pierre's very tart apples).

The deluge affected the campsite's water supply, turning it murky at both the showers and the taps, just as we needed to refill our tank (a weekly task). The value of the water filter on our cold tap was shown clearly in 2 glasses, before and after filtering. There's only one Hymer sharing the site with us now, plus a few brave tents in the waterlogged field. We began rewatching 'Forrest Gump' on video and enjoyed it immensely - the first time was with Dick & co in Sicily.

Dry and sunny again - Corsican storms are sudden, violent and brief. Down at the post in Vivario we sent Christine's letter and collected our post: a packet of mail and another parcel with videos from mum, and a more recent parcel from Alan. In the Hotel de Ville (with the junior school at ground level, the Mairie on the 1st floor and the post office above that) there was an exhibition of the work of 2 Corsican artists, Jacqueline Armani and Antoine Faggianelli - a beautiful display of oil and watercolours, and we spent a long time in the peace of that room shared with Antoine and his music. We recognised many of the places, both coasts and mountains, and saw Vivario from new angles, inspiring Barry to walk round with his camera once outside in the morning sunlight. Sadly we hadn't wall space or FF to spare for a painting. We also phoned for a weather forecast (a barely compre-hensible recorded message covering the whole of the island) and rang Ardelt (German Winnebago dealers) to speak to Roger Callan, but he'd left recently to set up on his own. The Service Manager assured us he could look after Rosie.

Returning we paused opposite the Genoese tower to look at the site of Wednesday's fire which had scarred the hillside. The smell of burning lingered.

Reading and digesting the mail occupied the afternoon. We enjoyed mum's letter, with 4 videos to look forward to (Clint in 'High Plains Drifter', a serial of 'Far from the Madding Crowd', 2 episodes of Frost, a wildlife film of Julia Roberts with orang-utans, and a true story called 'Seduced by Madness').

There were the MMM for July and August and an RV mag to read. Alan had included a welcome letter, birthday pendant for M, and leaflets on walking and col-riding in the Barcelonette area of the Alpes Maritimes - a place to put high on our list. On the downside, Turners had sent a Letting Permission form from Abbey National, to complete and return via them (previously done directly with AN). We rang Turners, in case they were delaying new tenants, but Mrs Shaw assured us they were advertising the house and showing people round this weekend. She confirmed that a £50 fee was required with the AN form (they hadn't sent us the covering letter!) Better news included a letter from Midland Jersey apologising for the missing statements and card confusion and crediting us with £25 to cover our phone calls; news and photographs from Dick & Audrey, currently in Northumberland awaiting repairs to the Hymer; a long letter from Martin with a photo of his Amazon RV; and more information from Tricia Milton on the USA. The MDA apparently wash their hands of their members; Wallenius Lines need more information before they can bother with our enquiry; but the AA and RAC both sent plenty of details on shipping to the States and Canada, most of it very off-putting!

Barry wrote to Jeff Mason (with a photo of M and bicycles at the Bavella Col in front of the statue of the BVM, which seemed appropriate), with thanks for his recent letter and Tom Quigly's poem. He'd described Tom as "a little Irish chap, in a wheelchair like me, who died recently. His goodnight saying was 'Yu bugger, God luv us and save us'." Tom's son, Joe, had sent Jeff the poem 'I'm Fine'.

Dry but cooler with strong winds. A walk along the lane to the spring to refill our bottles confirmed it was too gusty for mountain hikes. We drained and refilled Rosie's tank too, as the campsite water is running clearer again after last week's murky storm water.

Barry replied to the MDA, and more enjoyably to Martin, even risking an artist's impression in answer to one of his queries about getting the wheel covers off. M

wrote to MMM for a copy of 'South-east Enders' and sent Midland a form to reclaim the Cardguard fee on Choice Points. We also wrote to Turners, enclosing the AN form and cheque and urging them to find tenants asap.

Uncertain of the weather for a full day's climbing, we had a glorious morning walk along the ridge from the Col de Sorba to Punta Muro with views across the Forest of Rospa Sorba to the village of Muracciole way below. An old route was marked by faded yellow splodges on rocks and trees but it sometimes went straight over a pinnacle of rocks which had to be skirted. We could see how Rod and Maggy had lost the path on this walk (orienteering without a compass?) but we made it to the wooden cross on top of Punta Muro at 1565 m/5134 ft, a climb of 254 m/833 ft from the Col. Mist was swirling up from the forest, hiding and revealing bits of the panorama, so we didn't linger, pleased to descend and reach Alf in sunshine.

Returning, we rang mum from our nearest cardphone at Le Chalet, the popular bar where the Sorba Pass road meets the main N193. A relaxing afternoon, writing and reading, followed by part of 'My Fair Lady'.

The fine weather has returned, slightly cooler, ideal for walking. We left Alf on the car park of the Monte d'Oro hotel, just before the Col of Vizzavona, by a little chapel to Notre Dame des Neiges. The unsigned path (called the Sentier de la Femme Perdue on our map) ran through the woods south of the road, climbing gently, eventually meeting the GR20 (left for Vizzavona station, right to climb up to the Bocca Palmente which we'd walked to previously from Sorba). We paused here, watching firefighter planes in the distant sky, then returned on the forest tracks rather than take the GR20 and a road walk back to the Col.

Enchanted with the peace, the prospect of most tourists leaving by the end of the week, and the hint of autumn - sweet chestnuts hanging heavy where we first saw blossom, berries on the mountain ash - we decided to postpone our ferry (again!) Moby Line confirmed on the phone that there was room on a later sailing but insisted we had to return to the travel agent in Corte to change the ticket, so we rode in after lunch. After a lengthy wait we changed from 2 to 17 September (dep Bastia 1530 arr Genoa 2200), costing another £5 for their trouble. Corte was packed and hot, but we also posted our recent letters, went to the bank (checking the new Cirrus cards and PINs), collected some photos, did some photocopying (new vehicle insurance documents), and of course got groceries and petrol. A busy day, rounded off with 'My Fair Lady'.

Rosie thought she was going somewhere when we removed her blinkers and swept and polished her cab (using up the last of our 'Cockpit Shine'), but we're not ready to move yet! We also sorted out the contents of the safe and completed the Cardguard renewal form with the change of Midland's card numbers.

We planned and packed for an expedition up Monte Incudine, involving a night at base camp in Zicavo (tomorrow if the weather holds), and allowed ourselves the luxury of a brand new video - Clint in 'High Plains Drifter' (part one).

The threat of rain and storms has passed, M rang the little one-star hotel in Zicavo and 2 hours later we were in our 200 FF room making tea with our travel-kettle. It was just under 40 miles, but the Cols of Sorba and Verde slowed the pace. (In mid-June we'd stayed in the nearby Paradise apartments on our 2-day cycle tour from Ghisonaccia over Bavella, but they would now be taking weekly bookings.)

Before settling in, we rode up to the San Petru Refuge to check the starting point for tomorrow's attempt on the Incudine summit. This meant another hour's ride, leaving the D69 about 6 miles south of Zicavo, then climbing 4 miles and 500 m/ 1650 ft up a narrow winding woodland path, through the lovely beech Forest of Coscione. The road was built in 1953 (date from a memorial to a workman who had fallen to his death while working on it). The parking area at the top had a rough signpost 'Aicudina (sic) - 3 hrs', and we didn't believe either statement! We returned to Zicavo and on to Cozzano, the next village, for petrol (a rare commodity in these parts), then back to the hotel for a drink and a read before dinner. This is the life (for one night, anyway!) Our ground floor room was ideal, opening onto a patio where we could park Alf. We chose the 100 FF menu (the middle of the 3 options) and ate several mountains-worth of Corsican pig! Starter was charcuterie (plate of smoked sausage and salami) or crudités (salad), so we shared one of each. The next course was a big bowl of cassoulet full of beans and bits of meat, then came courgettes and tomatoes, both stuffed with minced meat, and finally a dish of fresh fruit salad (or cheese). Good grief! We staggered back to room 20, made coffee and hoped for fine weather tomorrow so that all this indulgence wasn't wasted!

Dinner, bed and breakfast: £44.50

After the standard bread, jam and coffee breakfast we left Zicavo at 9 am, Alfed to the San Petru refuge and left him there at 10.10 among the rare blue Corsican Aconite flowers (deadly poisonous and found only on the Coscione plateau). It was a perfect day for the ascent and the first hour was fairly easy, crossing meadows and climbing gently until the path met the GR20 and then reached a Bergerie offering food and shelter by a newly planked bridge. Piscines naturels were signed 30 mins walk upstream and there were a couple of tents pitched by the bank. The GR20 route now took us out of the woods up the flank of the massive 2½-mile long hump of Incudine, turning sharply south on reaching the Col de Luane at 1805 m/5921 ft after another hour. The path became steeper, crossing rocky gullies, and we sheltered from the wind in a hollow to eat our lunch, in sight of the top. By 1.30 pm (3 hrs walking as the sign had promised) we stood at the huge wooden cross on the windy summit, at 2134 m/7001 ft, the 6th highest of Corsica's 'Top Six' peaks, which range from 7 to 9,000 ft. The views were magnificent, as far as the east coast, the hills of Cap Corse to the north (with smoke rising ominously from 2 fires), while to the south we could see the Refuge d'Asinao, 2000 ft below us, and the granite needles of Bavella, where we'd first encountered the GR20. A fire-plane was circling right above us, and we later learnt of a bad fire in the Balagne region (inland from Calvi/ Ile Rousse).

Returning, we met a young English couple bravely walking the length of the GR20 with only 2 days to go. We'd already passed the woman with the usual exchange of Bonjours only realising her nationality when we saw her husband with a hat labelled 'Warwickshire'! They were camping at the refuges and enjoying the experience but we didn't envy them their backpacks.

We reached Alf again at 4.25 pm, a total walking time of 5½ hours plus 45 mins in breaks, with a climb of 800 m/2625 ft. It hadn't been as difficult as the Rough Guide description (which was pretty inaccurate all round and estimated 10 hours!). It took a further 3 hours to ride home, with a break at the Col de Verde, by which time it was actually getting cold. We took a coffee in the Relais and read 'Asterix en Corse', which was barely comprehensible. Ils sont fous, les Romains - reminded us of Pierre! Once back, over the Col de Sorba, we were thoroughly chilled, put the fan heater on, made hot soup and soon recovered enough to watch the end of 'High Plains Drifter' - some day!

At mid-morning came a lone Englishman to pitch his little tent below us and set up a table and 2 chairs. Of course, we got him in for a coffee and found a kind and friendly (if slightly pompous) early-retired teacher of French and Spanish, from Kent. We learnt that he'd been in the same Cambridge rowing crew as the King of Norway, and was currently supplementing his pension with part-time A Level French teaching at a private VIth form college, plus private coaching at his home. He's also a lay preacher and computer nerd. He teaches Corsican history, etc, and comes to the island every year. He told us we should have been here when the snow was still on the peaks and the spring flowers were out - "we were", said Barry, which did quieten him down a little!

He left after lunch to collect his wife at Ajaccio airport (still working, and coming to join him for a week), and we went to Vivario to post and shop. Just as we returned the rain started and by the time we'd baked some scones and Richard reappeared with Jean it was cold, muddy and stormy. We took them in to get warm and dry over a hot drink, surprised they hadn't opted for a meal and room instead, and very glad the weather hadn't turned yesterday. Jean once qualified as a dentist but gave her career up to care for both mothers (now gone), and is now working as a temporary part-time receptionist. A devout Christian, complete with cardigan and bible - a truly good woman - she was obviously not keen on camping or walking and it was the first time she'd joined him 'in the field' for many years. She had our sympathy as they left at 10pm for their cold wet tent.

After the coldest night for several months (below 60ºF inside Rosie on rising) the day dawned bright and Richard took Jean to the Tavignanu Gorge for a walk/swim. We cycled to Vezzani, our favourite 25-mile local ride, and sat by the 3 Graces fountain reading - Jean's 'Daily Telegraph' and Richard's 'Landscapes of Corsica' on loan.

In the August MMM small ads we'd spotted a Unimog for sale which we'd met on the campsite in Istanbul, complete with Sandra and Bernard from Welwyn Garden City, en route to India. As we'd regretted not getting their address to ask how it went, Barry took the opportunity to ring. Sandra was delighted to hear from us and we promised to write with copies of our photos of them (one of which may appear in MMM's A-Z, depending on which are selected). We heard that they'd turned back in Iran, as Bernard had suffered severe back/neck pains from the stress (physical and mental) of driving the heavy vehicle on Iranian roads. They'd returned to the UK, but later flown out to India for their son's wedding in Calcutta and some touring. Now they have Indian in-laws and may be able to help us with a car if we go. A rewarding phone call all round. (And no, they haven't sold Unimog yet. Such a specialised expedition vehicle needs the right buyer to be looking.)

Back at Tattone for an afternoon of reading and writing the diary, a beer with Jean and Richard, and an evening of coffee and conversation after the sun went down.

Leaving the Carters to church and Sunday lunch out in Ajaccio, we decided we were now ready for the summit below which we've been camped for over 2 months. Alf gave us a lift to the Monte d'Oro hotel car park at La Foce, before the Col de Vizzavona, and by 9.05 we were striding out. The route past the Cascades des Anglais and up to the ridge, where the Monte d'Oro route leaves the GR20, was familiar, but now we reached the crest in 3 hours, a much better time, overtaking the long-distance trekkers (admittedly they carried large packs, but were also 30 or 40 years younger). We took the summit path, marked with cairns and yellow blobs, though the cloud was starting to gather ominously in the valley below us. After about 30 minutes we reached a decision point - take the short hard way straight up (which Barry thought worthy of a rope), or the longer (but still hard) way up a rocky gully, or accept that the cloud was coming down and we should do the same. It had been a good recce and there was time to try again on a clearer day.

We walked back to the GR20 route and ate our lunch, keeping a weather eye out. Low cloud was certainly engulfing the peaks, but rather than returning to Vizzavona we decided to go 'over the top' and down to the Refuge de l'Onda. This was steeper than we'd imagined and took over 2 hours, overtaking a German school party and a Dutch group, but by 3.05 we were resting at the Refuge, which will be busy tonight! Dark cloud had swirled behind us as we climbed down, and we saw walkers donning trousers and jackets for the first time this season.

The Onda Bergerie sells cheese, bread, wine and charcuterie but we needed only water. We were greeted warmly by Dominic (the brother of Pierre's wife, from the campsite), whom we hadn't recognised - just up there for a couple of days walking (he must be 70!) A final 3 hours of easier, but wearier, walking returned us to Canaglia and after the last climb past the sanatorium to Tattone, we arrived at 6.05, after exactly 9 hours and climbing over 4,000 ft.

Richard offered to run Barry back to Vizzavona to fetch Alf but we decided to walk up and get him tomorrow, to complete the circuit of Monte d'Oro. After a meal and a shower we soon recovered, and the Carters joined us for coffee. The temperatures fell rapidly after dark and they decided to move to the coast tomorrow, after finding Ajaccio much warmer. Jean will surely be happier on a commercial beach site with more facilities.

The Carters came in for a farewell coffee and we gave Richard the Corsican guidebook which Roland (of mosquito farm) had presented to us. He was delighted with a new book for his Corsican collection. Jean's gift was a back-number of MMM, as she longed to try camping in some warmth and comfort, though we don't rate her chances of persuading Richard!

Once they'd left we walked to the Hotel Monte d'Oro for Alf (1½ hours), just a stroll along the road but still a climb of 1000 ft in 4½ miles! There's nothing level in these parts. Alf had us back for lunch in 10 minutes, then took us to Corte for the usual round - bank, photographer's, supermarket, petrol and launderette. Back home just as the 6 pm train left Tattone, punctual as ever. A pot of tea, dhobi to be hung out, a poulet rôti dinner, and an interesting video of the orang-utans in Borneo. Are we alone in wishing the large male had carried Julia Roberts off, never to be seen again? (Julia Roberts, that is, not the orang utan which was very nice.)