Then we haunt Corte. The citadel with its towering "eyrie", a small fort of its own, is a must, don't miss it if you happen to visit Corte. From the eagle's nest you have a great view of the town and the whole valley.
Nearby the citadel we manage to find a small shop that's selling chilled beverages in big bottles, even on Sundays, and even for decent prices. That's a good thing to know if you've ever seen the price lists of Corte's restaurants, it saves us lots of money on this hot day.
At the station we ask for information on trains departing from Nice to Marseille, but the man behind the desk just shrugs. They don't have computers, and they don't have timetables, they just have a phone, but calling France is nearly as expensive as calling the rest of the continent so they don't do us the favor. The Syndicat d'Initiative (tourist information office) consists of the man selling the tickets at the citadel and very much nothing - we don't even ask. Since calling France is nearly as expensive as calling Germany we decide to rope in our people at home. Two calls are necessary: one to request the info we need and another one half an hour later to obtain it. Without knowing the train departures we can't choose a ferry that does not make us stay for the night outside a vehicle. Why this is so important on the twelveth day of the trip? Easy: Markus wants to quit early; he has to prepare for exams and he wants to play them safe.
By 16.30 we're back at the camping site again where we have Ravioli for lunch. It's the first time on the journey that we have a warm meal before dinner time. While we're eating and right after that we get to know a student of jurisprudence from Frankfurt/Main who's studying in Heidelberg (yes, the German town with the highest density of American and Japanese tourists) and who's roaming Corsica solo. Her mother is from Greece, she's been visiting Greece often (and she also speaks the language), and she's been at lots of other places throughout the world (Australia, for example), so she's got a lot to tell.
She joins Thomas and me for a swim in the nearby Tavignanu river, but then she just puts in her feet while Thomas and I enjoy the refreshing ice-cold water. Swimming makes hungry, so Thomas and I have a second course (consisting of soup and a tin of corn).
So we're ten this evening; the Franconians are still here, too, they'll depart for L'Ile Rousse tomorrow afternoon. The songbooks stay in the rucksacks this evening, we're just talking and drinking tea. After we've received enough complaints from the tents around us we retire one after the other.