Of Men and Pork & Cows & Goats

Day 26 - August 24

It took me forever to pull myself together, I recall waking up close to 8 am (I had planned to be on the saddle by like an hour earlier) and then took a long shower, putting my things together - it was only about 10 am that I left Zonza. It was back to normal August weather, nice, pleasant sunshine in the morning - however, similar to the previous day, chances of rain and thunderstorms in the afternoon. I contemplated which road to take - there was one into the mountains, with the next major settlement being 100 kilometers away, with 3,500 meters in elevation gain (wow, that sounded more like mission impossible). The other option was going through two passes and then down to the coast, from where Bastia was 100 kilometers away. I was initially leaning towards the more adventurous one, through the mountains, but had no appetite getting soaking wet - so went for the safer option. I considered taking a ferry sometime in the morning of the coming day, thought of riding all night, getting into Bastia somewhere during the night - looked like a viable possibility. So, starting late into the day, I started going for first of the two passes ahead of me.

Just outside town was a large family of pigs, happily wallowing in the mud, they did not even lift their faces to take a look at me, so busy were they at their work.

The scenery was very pretty, it could also have been someplace in the Alps back in Austria (or the Cascades in the state of Washington).

It was not one of the most difficult climbs ever after which I reached the pass, called Col de Bavella, at 1,218 meters. The view opened up to the east and it was impressive.

Rolling down from the pass, there was a herd of mountain goats chilling in the middle of the road - guess they are used to the tourists doing them no harm. There was a warning sign, but it was showing the incorrect type of animal.

Clouds were definitely gathering above the scenic mountains (that reminded me of the Dolomite mountains), so it was (probably) a safe decision of not riding through the crazy mountain road. An hour later, I reached the second pass, called Col de Larone, at 608 meters.

The road followed a mountain river, which had some pools, where people were bathing. I was tempted to do the same, but told myself it would be even better to take a plunge into the sea - it wasn't too far away and the road was mostly downhill now. I filled my belly with blackberries - I do not recall seeing so many ripe ones ever before.

Around 2 pm, I reached the coast, at Sari-Solenzara. I sat down in the middle of a roundabout, it had a pleasant grass surface and had some snacks. I was now next to the shore - and sure I went in for a swim - as it turned out, the last one on this trip. I consulted Google, yes, there were still about 100 kilometers until Bastia, on a major highway called T10. Ah, I can do this by night time and take a ferry the next morning. It was about 3 pm by the time I was done with the swim and ready to head north and close the circle of the island.

The highway was not all too interesting, reminded me also about Seattle times, good old times. Nothing really to report on, except that I covered good distance. About 30 kilometers away, at Aleria, a sign indicated an archeological site. Up came a medieval town, next to which were Roman ruins. Even though I did a Balazs Express Tour, it was worth the detour.

Now it was close to 5 pm. It did rain - in the mountains, but not on the coast where I was. I had some 70 kilometers still ahead of me, translated to 40 miles (that sounds less). Hey, isn't there a ferry that evening? Haven't I done 55 miles in just over 3 hours? (OK, was 15 years younger and was carrying no luggage). I checked the ferry schedule and saw one departing for Genoa at 9 pm. Four hours - 40 miles. If I keep my average just above 10 miles an hour, I could do it! Of course it had to be faster than that, as I had no ticket yet and had to be there like 30 minutes before for boarding.. Let's go for it!

And I did. I rode the remaining 70 kilometers like a madmen. In a small town, there was a traffic jam, here I was zigzagging past the vehicles. I allowed only two short bio breaks. The road forked off to Bastia (Calvi on the northwest was the other destination) and became a divided highway. There were no prohibiting signs for bikes, so I just continued, cars whizzing by. Close to the airport, with still some 20 kilometers to go, I thought it's safer to leave the highway - it was not the best decision, as I had some confusing curving road to navigate on. These paths led me back to the major road, with heavy traffic, where a big, ugly red sign, saying no bikes allowed. Cursing, I found, yet again, some smaller roads. Google Maps indicated 20:30 as ETA, but still some 12 kilometers to go. On the small roads, the ETA went up to 20:40. Once again, the small road turned back to the major road, here they forgot the ugly sign. A huge traffic jam ahead, hardly any space on either side of the cars. I think a major concert was coming up, some cars were parked illegally on the side, blocking my path. I still went ahead, some frustrated drivers honking and hissing at me. Finally, the map app told me to turn down the coast. Bastia built a beautiful beach front, with a nicely marked bike path, I was making covering good distance. The port was only 5 km away, the time around 20:15, so all systems green. But what about this major hill ahead? Surely there is a tunnel. Yes, a tunnel there was, but also the ugly red sign. I spotted an office with monitors at the entrance of the tunnel, knocked on the door and tore the door open, I explained the guy that I am now going to ride through the tunnel, or else I would miss my boat. He nodded and said "it is prohibited, it is dangerous, but I did not see anything". So I went for it, quite a few driver honking at me. The large town of Bastia disappeared after the tunnel and now I saw the port where I had disembarked eight days ago. There was a passenger terminal, where the booth selling tickets was empty. So I rushed to boarding area. They asked for the ticket, told them the booth was closed and I would purchase it online. No, that is no longer possible, I should ride back, someone will be there and he might be able to issue a ticket. I rode back, found a guy, I told him I was riding all the way from Zonza, he told me, smiling, he already heard it (from those at the boarding area). He issues the ticket, Eur 40 and I flew back to the ship. I boarded.

It felt wonderful, I was ecstatic, I was all smiles. I managed to circle around the island in eight days and I reach this ship. And what a wonderful island - and island of beauty.

I went to the uppermost deck, where, of course, I pitched my tent.

Here is the map for the day - it was 144 km, with 1.400 meters of altitude gain and 2,150 meters of loss.