Corsica - Day 14

Day 14

We're waked and kept awake by a monotone recitative in French (that's what I guess) mixed with some rhythmic sounds coming from a car radio and lasting for hours. I get the thought of asking them politely if we could trade the singsang waffle for clamoring Italians, but they're still caught in their self-induced coma. So we head for the showers, and that's another awful experience: the warm water lasts for exactly one minute, the doors don't keep shut (not that we're self-conscious, but it's a bit drafty), and there are no shelves. Using the wash-basins afterwards is nearly impossible: the faucets are located about half a meter (1 1/2 feet) above the basins, they have an incredible water pressure, are operated by pushing a button and keep splashing water for less than one second if you release the button to have your hands free. For compensation the mirrors hang very low so you can check if your fly is open but not if you've shaved off all the stubbles.

But even the worst incidents can't prevent us from being on the beach by 11.00 where we - supplied with chilled drinks - pass the next three hours.

At 15.00 it's farewell-time: Markus parts with us and stays in Calvi, from where he'll catch the ferry to Nice this evening and continue his journey home by train via Marseille after he arrives in Nice the next morning. Thomas and I (and that's what I'll call "we" from now on) go to Galéria by bus (organized by a travel agency for 35 FF each); we're the only passengers, and the driver hasn't got his seat-belt fastened. Besides, the bus departs 1/4h late - to our advantage, we wouldn't have made it otherwise.

Half an hour later we're at the destination of our dreams. Galéria is a small town in the world's armpit, with about 300 residents, situated at the west coast between the cliffs. But they've adapted to tourism: there are hotels, a camping site, a post office (serving as a bank, too), two épiceries (groceries), several other shops, and - a real supermarket, open every day (including Sundays) from 08.00 to 20.00!

We go to the beach immediately, it's a gravel beach, but that's alright with us because you find fine sand everywhere in your equipment after not more than one day if the beach is sandy, and it pays no rent so it's not to be there. Gravel doesn't give you these worries, and you can walk and lie on it almost as well. It also leaves the water clear, that's why divers prefer such beaches.

Galéria

There's another difference to Calvi: it's not as hot here, and the water really is refreshing! You can't say we're the only ones on the beach, but it's really not crowded at all.

We settle on the local "Camping Idéal" that's not quite as ideal as its name suggests, but the spaces for tents are plane, soft, and shady, all in one word: good. This changes a bit when a couple from Rottweil (Bavaria, Germany; yep, they're everywhere) takes up quarters right next to us. They amuse themselves throughout the whole evening letting the world know of their bliss by shrieking, laughing, and similar sounds (you get the message, don't you?). By 01.00 my question if all this could take place more silently is answered positively. Just in time before I'm getting too frustrated...

But the best thing is still to happen. During this night we learn where all the water that we've drunk on our way through the mountains comes from: right, it's raining. Thoroughly and soundly, with lightning and thunder. Our tent stands the inauguration, but of course we don't catch much shuteye this night. Thomas corrects me with that, he slept well, but that doesn't count because he's a master sleeper.