Stage 16
Week 3 - Stage 16, Wednesday 23rd May
Camping Campita on the River Golo near Francardo to Cervione (77kms)
Total Ascent - 4,200 metres
Total Descent - 4,180 metres
Most days I'm ready to be on my way by 9:00am and today is no different. I say my 'goodbyes' to the owner. He asks if I was successful with the fly-fishing. "A few small brown trout", I reply. He says there are trout in the river as large as 25cms and wishes me well on my travels. I thank him and say how beautiful is his homeland - with its numerous mountains and rivers. "Yes, indeed, but Corsica is for those who can see.", He replies. I feel very sad for him and for the second time since reading that article on the flight over I'm reminded of the fragility of this World and all living things on it.
9:45am and I'm only 6kms along the busy T20/N193 at Ponte Leccia. A quick 'pit stop' for a coffee and a glass of grapefruit juice. Also an opportunity to decide today's stage ride and get as far from this main road as possible. 10:45am and 11kms on the clock. I have made my decision; up, up, up to Morosaglia, the native commune of Pasquale Paoli (1725-1807). The house in which he was born is now a museum. Pasquale Paoli was a Corsican patriot, statesman and military leader who was at the forefront of resistance movements against the Genoese and later French rule on the island. He became the president of the Executive Council of the General Diet of the People of Corsica, and also designed and wrote the Constitution of the State.
Not ten minutes into the climb and my third reminder of how fragile and ephemeral life can be; a roadside memorial to a young victim of a road incident. The tragedy seems more poignant because of the beautiful surrounding countryside.
The landscape on this climb is more like a Mediterranean island. Arid ground with only cork and olive trees. The weather today is particularly sunny and hot. The clock outside the pharmacie back in Ponte Vecchia was showing 31 Centigrade when I passed it this morning. I continue climbing, passing a cattle farm and gulping in some choice smells along with the hot air of the day!
Eleven miles of climb later and I arrive in Morosaglia. Although only just past Midday the village was deserted. The first two bars were closed and while sitting outside the third the owner arrived. While he opened the bar and readied for business, he suggested the route to Pidicroce and then on to Cervione. Over a thirst-quenching orange juice and cup of coffee I studied the map and agreed to follow the bar owner's advice.
Back on the bike for a further 4 kms of climb brings me to to the Col de Prato (985m). Then, once on the lee side of the Col, it's in the shade of chestnut trees and a welcome relief from the heat of day. The woodland alongside the road is lovely and I stop several times to take photographs, trying to capture if I can the beauty in the colour, shape and shadows of the trees. During one of the stops the sound of motor bike engines break my reverie. Eight bikes roar past, quickly followed by a coach-load of tourists. I wonder if they even noticed the trees or the woodland smells which for me are temporarily replaced by exhaust fumes!
Back on the bike I cover my mouth and nose, to reduce the intake of fumes, with the neck gaiter which is keeping the sun off my neck. One notices subtle changes in aromas and temperature when cycling. Especially when both have so pleasant (until recently) for the past couple of hours.
Rounding the next bend I'm greeted by the site of some religious ruins. A board beside the site says, 'Couvent d'Orezza. 1485 - founded by the Franciscans. 1790 - meeting between N. Bonaparte and P. Paoli. 1943 - destroyed by the Germans. Danger mines'. Two hikers have joined me from around the rear of the ruins while I'm writing down the words on the board. I ask if the bikers or coach stopped. "No", they said.
It's 3:30pm and I've reached Piedocroce with only 42 kms on the clock. I shall push on to Cervione - feel like a good spin of the legs today. Hope I don't regret saying that. What a contrast on this ride today, from the first few kilometres this morning on a busy main road to some beautiful scenery - and it's just got even better. I have reached the Auberge de Deux Vallee, in Piobetta, which sums up the landscape. The road between this village and Piova runs along a ridge; on one side, Valee de D'Orezza and the other, Valee d'Alesani. One moment there is a steep drop to a valley on my left then a similarly stunning view on my right of another valley! This has to be one of the best, if the not the best, ride of my journey. A gentle downhill ride now to Cervione. At the bottom of the valley runs the river d'Alesani and coming into my view is the Barrage d'Alessani. A 25kms long artificial lake. Another wonderful view, especially from over 300 metres above the lake.
Oops! Another one of those jaywalkers on the road in front of me. A gentle maneuver and around him or her. Dung Beetles, each one I pass always seems to be when I going quite quickly downhill. Invariably, I'm a hundred metres past before I recognise what it was. Fascinating these industrious death-defying creatures. Apparently the fall into three categories; rollers, tunnelers and dwellers. Stopping to take a photo would probably put me in similar danger - ironically!
Cycling through a gap carved out of the rock and finally the beautiful valley below merges with plains of the East coast. A change in the air is very apparent; the scent of the pine trees, maquis and chestnut trees is replaced by the smell of the sea. It's been a while and good few kilometres since I saw and smelt the sea. Bonfacio...how long ago was that?
I ride into Cervione as the sun is setting behind the mountains. A festival is in progress, consisting of three tractors towing trailers with giant 3D portraits of someone. I ask one of the onlookers if there is a hotel in the village. "Non", he replies. "You must head along the coast in either direction." Disappointed, I peddle on through the village and reach the junction between the D71 and D330 for San Nicolao. I decide to ask a man who is tending his front garden. Can you believe my luck, the man and his wife run a chambre d'hautre! Without realising, I have stumbled across one of the B&Bs which is mention in the Lonely Planet Guide. A perfect end to a perfect day!
