On the road...

The roads out of Bonifacio are gold and green and the wind washes through them, each gust a reminder of how light the plastic of our scooters is – we wind up up up the narrow roads overlooking each turquoise bay a succession of pretty.







Italian banditos rule the road, until the lines of Germans in their leathers take over.









Seeing a dirt road meandering down to a glimmering white beach, we turn off, carefully negotiating each hidden pot hole, each tiny gorge where rainfall has pooled, until we arrive onto a stretch of sand the color of weathered bones in the desert and a vast expanse of water so clear and still it is like a magnifying glass, exposing the ripples of gray tonality beneath. The water fades out to green and then azure, broken only by random rock formations, sail boat, and the occasional snorkeler.



We are unsure about leaving. This is a place you stay and then stay some more until the ocean has absorbed you into its swaths of sea grass.

We pull ourselves away – the wrong choice, the sea reminds us, because within a few kilometers a car comes at me too close and I swerve – and dive – the scooter exploding out from under me, like a meteorite hitting the atmosphere – it breaks apart into countless shiny plastic shards. My scrape along the road has left my skin formed into several island chains of bright red and fuchsia patches. The adrenaline kicks in and I feel nothing – only dismay at the approaching ambulances and profound embarrassment, regret – wishing I was still wading in the clear water – relief as I see James talking to everyone, letting me sit in the shade and be anointed by the paramedics and their iodine.

James has seen the contents of my scooter, including the grey and pink of his Air Force Ones, strewn in the road behind him and he drops the scooter to come rushing down. I can’t even begin to imagine the thoughts in his head.





Language barriers, disputes, and the horror of insurance and the lack of it to cover the accident…we collapse at a cheap hotel in a fake resort town with a bottle of beautiful wine – the same we had the night before, drunk in happier times, we watch football next to giggly girls with iphones and fall into deep sleep.







(Merci Jo Oli, Ariel & Maria, Sean & Kristin, Steve & Tracey, Ady & Eric, and James -- it worked out fine in the end!)