Monday, July 5, 2010

To Propicio...

A car to go up the winding mountain roads so dangerous for scooters – we take every curve with careful trepidation, with respect for what might await us on the other side.















We stop at a mountain village for lunch – salad with honeyed chestnuts, figgy toasts, pancetta and cheese…Corsican pizza.


(Merci, Phil & Marion)


But it's all too much.

We’re reborn in the sea at Ruggione. It cleanses my wounds and restores James’s sense of play and adventure.

It is a release.



Now we are outside Porticio at a little hotel village perched in the hills. We sip Corsican wine (“Of course it’ll be good, it’s Corsican!”) and look at the hillsides with sloping vineyards. The air is fragrant. It is good.

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