Bonifacio

My further adventures on Corsica...

Once Sylvian dropped me off a little short of Porto Vecchio, I regained my bike balance (I imagine that's the cyclist's equivalent of sea legs), and tottered off to Bonifacio. When I arrived, I was a little disappointed, and who wouldn't be? Everything seemed closed, including the entire harbourside strip (though not much was lost there, since it was all tourist directed). It was kind of like showing up at the empty set of Beachcombers. But I rolled a little further on (like a few meters more), and saw the old city perched above the harbour. It was very pretty in the weak afternoon sunshine, and I felt reassured at my arrival, even if most of the town was shut for the season. Though I am still undecided whether that wasn't a blessing.


My first adventure in Bonifacio was to go for a wander up to the citadel. My hotel was within the city's walls, which was nice since it meant I didn't have to walk all the way UP to the citadel every day. A typical fortiied town, there were slit windows for slinging arrows out of which now offer picturesque views of the lower town and harbour.


This was carved upside down into one of the walls. I liked it!


The view out my hotel window. Of the incredible rain, though you can't tell. I liked how the camera distorted the colour of the glowing streetlamps.



Yup! Napoleon used to live here. He was Corsican, you know. The Corsican Usurper!

One of the strange things about Bonifacio was that the city was full of crooked little streets lined with tourist shops and restaurants, but then, at the edge of that was an abandoned and rather derelict military residence, essentially several large buildings filled with broken glass and cordoned off with rasor wire. Then there was this super swank hotel between the neglected barracks and the Marine cemetary. It was a collosal building in new-white, renting suites for as little as (!!) 135Euros or so a night. !! It was the sort of spot that was guaranteed to be haunted, and if not, one I'd avoid wandering around in at night alone. Still, I don't think Bonifacio is the sort of place where one need worry about much.

I went for a little bike ride out of town, toward l'église de l'ermitage de la trinité not too far away, and was distracted down every little road I found. Which, often as not, revealed dumped garbage of all sorts. Reminded me of BC, twenty years ago.


At the hermitage, I was met by a tribe of talkative cats who all disappeared once there was no sign of food. There was a (locked) church thing (the hermitage?) with a very beautiful facade, and a plaque commemorating six men (Brothers) who were missionaries killed in Algeria in the 80s or 90s, and a large, plain iron cross on the rocks on top of the hill.


I was more distracted by the figurines and candles left by people at the shrine to the Virgin Mary, a little statue in the crook of two boulders. There were plenty of signs warning of the danger of candles and fire, but there were plenty flickering at her feet.


The official Virgin, and then her replicas...




The city, hanging off her calcium cliffs.



I went for a wander one morning and got 'picked up' by a professor from Corte. He was wandering along the same trail, and decided I should go along with him to this spot where the sea had eroded a hole in the cliffs. If he could only remember where it was... I spent an hour or so wandering down wrong ways before I parted ways and went back to get my bicycle and go for a ride. I returned to where we'd been wandering, because there were a few neat things, like this super old house mae of stone and marked with a date from the 17th century. Cool!


I also found the remains of a (I am assuming) WWII military post. The stone buildings were mostly destroyed, but the bunkers were still there, with the addition of someone's very pretty graffiti. I thought she was being eaten by a fish, at first, but now I think she's either wearing the fish, or wearing a dress that looks like a fish.