Next morning we chugged up to the clifftop citadel of Bonifacio in a motorised tourist ‘train’ (we’ve seen them many places) where we were met by a delightful Corsican guide whose name escapes me. He took us wandering up and down the narrow streets of the old city. The citadel was built in the C9th with the foundation of the city and has been reconstructed and renovated many times since its construction.
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| Evidence of one of the old cistern systems |
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This street is steeper than it looks yet the electricians
seemed to cling on like limpets. |
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| A fascinating collection of knives on sael here |
There is an interesting custom in Corsica, elsewhere perhaps. Young men of a certain age are presented with a knife with which to defend themselves. The knives in this shop, Les Terrasses D'Argon are made here as is other cutlery. They were beautiful works of art but looks deadly.
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| Those structures leaping between building are small aqueducts |
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| Pretty church |
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| There were the outer walls which some crazy people climbed |
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| And the inner walls |
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| Impressive battlements |
It had been hot work wandering over this amazing citadel so we were soon looking for a spot to collapse with a cold drink - and lunch.'
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| Bruschetta with prosciutto and fig washed down with icy Aperol spritz |
That night we escaped the crowd and found a quiet place for dinner. It's wonderful to be alone after being with a busload of people, lovely as they might be. We topped off the night with a couple of favorite liqueurs - Limoncello and Mirta (made from the berries of the myrtle bush)
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| Peace descended leaving inky pools dotted with tiny lights and clanking yacht masts. Divine |
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