Monday, September 9, 2013

There's no pee in Porto Vecchio


Sunday morning, we arose to the sweet aroma of a fire somewhere in the mountains. We packed up our villa, had “little lunch” (as the French would say), said goodbye to our Dutch friends (who had looked up Giorgio’s band the night before), paid the bill (for a change) and said goodbye to Madame Richeleux* and Casa Capellini. Next stop: Porto Vecchio.

We would be picking up the highway headed south in a town called Aleria. A quick look to see if there was anything of interest there became possibly a top discovery of the trip. First: Aleria is a wine region. WHAT WHAAAAT!? Sadly, since it was Sunday, and also only 10 a.m., the three or so wineries we tried were all closed (something we’d learn later was a theme), but we’ll be passing back through en route to Bastia on Wednesday, so all is not lost.

In BETTER developments, 1.5 km north of Aleria is a Etang de Diana, a lagoon that is home to Corsica’s finest oysters (and mussels). Something about the tide makes them extra delicious. So delicious in fact, that when Napoleon was occupying Italy, he kept his connection to his homeland…because FYI Napoleon was a Corsican…by having oysters shipped in by the boatload. We pulled into the recommended restaurant on the Etang, and were the first seated with our oyster fork in hand when service started at 12 (from a nice English speaking teenager we’ll call Marie).

Verdict: possibly best oysters I’ve ever had.

As we walked to the car both of us thought maybe we should use the WC before hitting the road again, but then again…we can wait the hour until we get to PV. Wrong. We must have stopped at three places to try, and every one was closed. When we finally did find an open gas station I raced so quickly past the attendant I somehow missed it when he yelled in Corsican that the bathroom was out of order. Seemed fine to me!. He was none to happy when I came out, and thus continues our winning streak with the fine people of Corsica.

We made it to PV, and Liza finally get her pee on, about 20 mins later. Our hotel is just around the bend near the city’s port, and we upgraded from a garden view to a sea view. The kindly hotelier, Madame Elmer Fudd, sadly informed us we were 45 mins early for check in, so we decided to make use of the afternoon by hitting the beach.

Lonely Planet called PV’s Palombaggia the finest beach in Corsica. Having just been to Saleccia, I had my doubts, and in the end…while Palombaggia was definitely beautiful, Saleccia still wins the day. We lounged around judging people, I got my snork on, and we ended with some beers on the beach. Not a bad way to wind down the afternoon.

For the evening we cleaned up and headed into the town center, which sits high on a hill, as does pretty much everything on this goddam trip. The restaurant, L’Antigu, had been recommended by two books and our hotelier, so was hard to argue…and it was fantastic. For starters we had some egglant with goat cheese and a zucchini beignet in a tomato coulis, and for entrees I had a filet of pork in a local honey sauce, and Liza had a local fish in a (non-powdery) bouillabaisse sauce. We were so stuffed after those we could hardly think of the fromage and raspberry parfait we had coming as part of our set menu, and yet SOMEHOW  we managed.

Both of us were totally exhausted by the end of dinner, so we did a quick stroll around the town before heading home. The town center reminds me a lot of San Fran, in that you find a number of cute places (both to shop, eat and drink in) tucked down little pedestrian alleys. After only about ten mins of walking we changed our plans to have dinner here again tomorrow night along with a bar crawl to get the full PV POV. Hopefully we’ll also meet some friends with yachts.

And then we ended the night with Bridesmaids...again.

Bottles of wine:
2

Oysters:
18

Hotel bills paid (for a change):
1

New favorite mom (after my own)
Laurie B.


Sunday's cow bet winner:
Liza (with 3)


Sunday's chicken bet winner:
No one (WHO KNEW YOU HAD TO HAVE A CHICKEN BET TOO!?)


Corsican visitors adopting the pirate lifestyle
2

*We’ve decided to just make up names for every person we meet from henceforth.

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