Vacation Diary #55 – Ajaccio

On Easter Sunday Morning, all is well in Bastia. The “petit dejeuner” is exactly what we had expected. Café au lait, a slice of white bread, marmalade. Do I really need a cooked egg and meat and cheese for breakfast?

The weather forecast for Easter Sunday as written in the local newspaper is hopeless. But it is supposed to clear up from Easter Monday on. I hope it will continue to be nice and sunny.

Since we want to go west and south-west anyway, we decide to take the train to Ajaccio. Departure at Bastia is 9.40 a.m., arrival in Ajaccio 1.15 p.m. After all, on a rainy day, it is better to go by train.

The trip by train is exactly what the tour guide had promised. Through green valleys and snow-covered mountains, the narrow-gauge railway reaches almost 900 metres above sea level. Looking out of the front window is particularly exciting. I manage to glimpse the route as I look beyond the driver’s compartment. From this perspective, the tracks of the narrow-gauge railway seem even more narrowly spaced. And then there are the viaducts. The small train courageously crosses the abysses. I get dizzy.

There is no rain throughout the entire trip. We see plenty of clouds – and once in a while some sun. Our arrival in Ajaccio is on time. There was hardly any rain during the entire train trip. And now it starts raining cats and dogs. Right across the railway station, we find a bakery. We treat ourselves to a huge sandwich and a “pain du raisin” for dessert. What a delicious lunch!
The rain eases a little. We start riding our bikes around 3 p.m. Sometimes it rains, sometimes not. The temperature is between 12 and 14 degrees Celsius. Basically, that is rather warm.

On our way, we come across a parade of huge vintage Citroens. DS and the like all over the place. The “God-like” one among the cars. Just divine. These cars are exactly as beautiful as I remember them. Again, I regret my decision to buy a VW Passat at a time of my life that was a “bifurcation point”. Shame on me – but it is irreversible.

Never mind. We finally arrive at 7 p.m. There is a vacancy for us at the Hotel Kaliste in Porto Pollo. It is a dream. After 60 kilometres (almost always through rain) and roughly 700 height metres, the excellent dinner (fish soup and poulet à la Corse) tastes twice as good as normal. Not to mention the local wine that goes with it.

Tomorrow, we will continue our journey. We plan great things.

RMD
(Translated by EG)

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