Stage 4
Week 1 - Stage 4, Thursday, 10th May
Pioggiola to Calenzana via Speloncato, Felicito, Muro, Avapessa and Montemaggiore (43kms)
Pioggiola to Calenzana via Speloncato, Felicito, Muro, Avapessa and Montemaggiore (43kms)
Total Ascent - 1,631 metres
Total Descent - 2,306 metres
By the time I made it down to breakfast, most of the other guests had already left. I was in no great hurry to leave, so instead sat out on the vine-covered patio and tucked-in to a hearty breakfast while planning the day's route. After yesterday's long climb, how about a less-energetic ride today? Good idea, John.
At 10:45 I am ready to leave Auberge Aghjola. I say goodbye, once again, to the two French motor bikers and thank Valerio and his wife for their fine fare and hospitality. The first half hour's peddling consists of a very steep climb amid chestnut trees to the Col de Battaglia (circa 1100 metres). Wow! What a view - I look down upon clouds and Speloncato clinging to the mountainside 500 metres below and the coastline away in the distance.
I had re-charged my phone overnight, but was unable to pick-up a network at the auberge. Here on the Col de Battaglia my phone comes back to life and reveals a text message sent last night: It's my son, Ben, telling me that he won both his heats in the school swimming gala and came third in the final, plus first in the relay. I text back how proud I am of him but sad to have missed the event. Home suddenly seems a very long way away.
I cycle through Speloncato on my way down the mountain then join the D71. The brake pads are warm after 14 kms of downhill. On through the villages of Feliceto and Muro. Near the village of Cateri, I turn left onto the D151. The landscape changes as I climb gently, the narrow road clinging to the hillside with gorse and scrub on both sides.
Rounding the next bend, I'm suddenly confronted by a para-glider preparing to take-off right beside the road. Another couple of Para-gliders are already airborne and climbing the thermals. The guy takes three or four steps then he too is airborne. I dismount and spend the next twenty minutes watching, jealously, as they rise higher and higher. And there, soaring with them, high above are two eagles! What a fantastic experience to be floating hundreds of metres above the ground. I did a couple of tandem jumps in Turkey one year - absolutely fantastic. mind you, the first time, I did feel a little motion sickness, which surprised me, so took some medication before the second jump!
A little further on, I come across the village of Montemaggiore perched on a rocky outcrop. There's not much to this tiny village, although it used to be a major centre for olive oil production. For centuries the whole area was renowned for its olive trees. However, in the 1940s fires completed wiped out an area of over 35,000 hectares. Estimates put the population now at a mere hundred. The same fate befell the town of Lama, there the population dropped from around 400 to a mere 60 in only a few years.
MontemaggioreI grab a late lunch - al fresco - at Chez Francoise while indulging in that age-old pastime of watching people walk by, not that there is much happening at 3 O'Clock in the afternoon. A small tour party and their guide head off in two cars, and the street is quiet. Not for the first time on this journey, I find myself thinking how cycling is definitely the best mode of transport if one wants to fully appreciate this island (or probably any other). The group of sightseers climb into their air-conditioned vehicles (presumably, or the windows are stuck closed!) and continue their air-polluting ride. Oblivious to the many different and constantly changing smells of the countryside, the subtle changes in temperature at different altitudes and whether in full sun or shade. Oh well...each to his own.
A gentle descent for about 6kms followed by a gentle climb into Calenzana. The perfect ride to allow my lunch to be fully digested. In the middle of the village, I notice a cafe/bar - the GR20 - and stop for a coffee. The time is 4:25pm. Today has felt like a 'rest day', with only 43 kms on the clock. Oh well...I don't feel guilty. I'm sure there will be some tough ride days ahead.
I locate a gîte d'étape just a few hundred metres further on and pitch the tent in a small field with only one other tent for company. A fairly new shower block and washroom is a welcome site, but my optimism is quickly dashed when I discover it clearly hasn't been cleaned since last season. Worse still...no hot water! Following a cold wash for both me and my clothes, I peg-out my clothes around the tent and then head for the reception. The bad luck continues as I discover the site's internet connection is down. I was hoping to make contact with home, however texting will have to suffice.
On my way here, I noticed a small supermarché, so I walk back up the road to buy my evening meal. I can't resist also buying tomorrow's breakfast, a nice big box of muesli!
With calorie intake out the way, I decide to head for bed. Once again the joys of camping live up to my expectations. I have unwittingly pitched the tent on a slight slope, so find myself sliding down the mat and on to the ground sheet. At some time I must have fallen asleep because at 3:45am the peace is shattered by the sound of glass smashing and raised voices. Suddenly I feel very vulnerable inside my tiny tent. I tentatively peer out into the dark trying to ascertain where and what is the cause of all the commotion. My immediate thought is a bunch of drunken lads are coming down the road, which runs alongside the field, throwing bottles over the fence into the camp site. Bravely I venture out into the night. The drunken lads turn out to be the local refuse collectors going about their work! I crawl back into my tent and drift off to sleep again.
