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"The beautiful" was the name that the ancient Greeks had given to Corsica, but time seems not to have passed and the name is still more than valid. There are not many corners of the Mediterranean in which to find such transparent water, soft white sand, vertiginous cliffs and at the same time evocative landscapes, valleys, forests and mountains covered with snow even in the height of summer.

Some photos were used for the TCX boot factory catalogs.

Some photos were published on the WPR Looking round 2011.

It is said that Corsica is dangerous, infested with thieves, with a road system often in poor condition, which became dear with the advent of the Euro, with inhabitants animated by a proud isolationism who often do not maintain a hospitable behavior. One could argue for hours about often stereotyped judgments, but one thing is certain: this jewel of the Mediterranean gives a twinge, a cramp in the pit of the stomach every time you visit it. Of course, like all islands, whether immense or remote, she needs time and curiosity, bearing in mind that she too must get used to us, so that she does not become the usual postcard tourists. The itineraries are often dotted with unexpected events and obstacles, but sometimes also with images, each more shocking than the other. If Corsica were a mythological place, the gods would surely have chosen it as a place to spend a lot of their time. In my second experience discovering this island, which took place a few years ago, in a bar in the Balagna region, one of the patrons told me this legend: "It is said that God, one day, deciding to create an idyllic corner where to rest in peace, he took a part of the desert plateaus of Spain, the rivers of Germany, the mountains of Italy, the forests of France and placed them with a decisive blow in the heart of the Mediterranean, creating Corsica. " Time is sometimes cruel and unfair with memories: I had forgotten how fantastically engaging this splendid rock could be embedded in the bluest corner of the Mediterranean!!

The first time I arrived in Corsica in 1993 to allow myself a few weeks to discover this real pearl of the Mediterranean and I toured it far and wide by myself. Then I was amazed by the extraordinary landscape, this mixture of majestic mountains and pristine coasts. Back then (almost 15 years ago, damn it how time runs), on my return it was very difficult for me to describe the extraordinary nature of the Corsican landscape: every attempt was, always, irremediably but above all undeservedly limited. Today after 3 attempts I am still in the exact same situation! We try for the umpteenth time, but I can't guarantee the result.

The island is literally crossed by real granite massifs, with peaks well over 2000 meters above sea level (and with Mount Cito which stands out with its 2707 m. !!!), distributed along a ridge that runs along the island transversely, from north west to south east and which divides Corsica into two sectors, of which the most interesting, sometimes wild, is certainly that of the west. The proposed itinerary focuses on this part of the island, also including the fantastic Capo Corse, in the far north. Coming from Sardinia, the extraordinary position of Bonifacio is even better understood. The historic center occupies a large part of the peninsula that protects a fjord that makes it one of the best landings in the whole Mare Nostrum and on which the Genoese built a fortress, surrounded by 3 km of walls. The first part of the itinerary takes place on the N196 to allow us to visit Sartène, "the most Corsican of Corsican cities" as a sign at its entrance also recalls. We continue on the main road up to the gates of Propriano where we deviate inwards for the secondary D19: the destination is the Alta Rocca, a mountainous area that we will reach along the D69 up to Aullène which together with Zonza divides the primacy as the most beautiful village in the area. If you liked the road so far, get ready for wonder. The westward-bending D420 is an inlay in the rock dotted with amazing viewpoints. To tell the truth, it must be said that the whole road up to Corte is dramatically spectacular, including the diversion of Bastelica. Corte, the historical and moral capital of the island, is perched dangerously on a rocky spur and represents the geographic heart of Corsica, loved by Pasquale Poli who for 14 years established the seat of government there and founded a university there. From here, we go towards the sea that we will see again only in Porto crossing the Niolo, which Maupassant defined as: “Homeland of free Corsica, an impregnable area from where the invaders never managed to drive out the mountaineers. A wild corner of unimaginable beauty. Not a blade of grass, not a plant: granite, only granite ".

The swoop towards the sea is dizzying: the road twists, prolonging a pleasure that never seems to end. The mountains, turned red, literally fall into the sea, together with the D84 and our motorcycles !! The coast, the sea, the bays, the blue sea, but don't wait or beg for a truce.

The road that leads from Porto to Calvi is truly extraordinary, constantly poised, suspended in a scenographic void, with the mountains plunging into a sea that varies from turquoise to the deepest blue, marked only by the scar of the state road that runs to half coast. The D81b ends, interrupting our competitive trans, in front of the splendid citadel of Calvi. Bastia is now close but, apart from the crossing of the Agriates desert, with the ascent to the Bocca di Vezzu, the Cap Corse is too strong a temptation to resist: with its relatively gentle east coast dotted with picturesque towns and that western, high and jagged, with villages and roads perched halfway up the coast. The Romans baptized it "the sacred promontory" and the Corsicans commonly call it "l’isula de l’isula" and in fact, it can be considered an island within the island, a kind of miniature Corsica. A world apart, closed, which was reconnected to the rest of the island only in the nineteenth century: in fact, the panoramic road, with a truly exciting asphalt at times, was commissioned by Napoleon Bonaparte. The asphalt of the finger will be swallowed in a few hours, including stops and photos. Damn the time is up, back to the continent.

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