2 Corsica— the Village of Cartavalonu

Village of Cartavalonu 

Cartavalonu has 3-4 dozen houses, all made of stone. Some of the houses were made by hand 100+ years ago and those have roughly hewn stones. The newer ones have been done with more modern technology. There are no stores in this village so the nearest boulangerie or fromagerie is about 45 minutes drive down the mountain to Porto Vecchio. The only business in the village is Le Refuge, which is a bar / restaurant / hostel. When I first got there, Fabi took me on a tour and this is some of what we saw. 

Maybe the oldest “house” in the village.

One of two outdoor bread ovens that served the village.

The second outdoor bread oven from past times….

This is a lovely outdoor church. You can see the altar with the stone on it. It’s more of a gathering place for people than a place for worship. there are boulders for sitting—behind me as I took the picture.

This is the “entrance” to the little outdoor church.

One of the streets of the village. The little add-ons to the houses are most often bathrooms.

One of the natural springs —drinking water.

Another natural springs. They like the water at this one better. I found it all to be good.

Here are some views from Cartavalonu.

Herein lies the community garden…as well as a horse and an ass. Cows also occasionally visit.

This is a large bar and restaurant and hostel. These are built about 5-7 hours hike from each other so people trek from one place to the other and have a place to eat and stay. It was a very busy place with lots of tourists and motorcycle and bicycle riders as well as locals. This is the only business in the village.

___________________________________

On another day, we took a walk outside the village. Along the way, we stopped at the house of Marcelle, Francis’s aunt and the only surviving “child” of eight kids. She is 82 years old and enjoys dancing and adventuring with her “chèri” (as Francis calls him). 

We also perused the local cemetery. This, I found very interesting. Little mausoleums are built side-by-side with “streets” and “alleyways.” We found one of the Tafani mausoleums. The stone in the corner is Francis’s grandfather who was called Jean, after his father (Jean senior). The other stones represent wives and brothers and sisters. The memorial items on the floor are of others who have died but not buried in this mausoleum, including Francis’s brother who is buried in Alsace. 

We stopped at the Bar de la Guitare” where I met the proprieter, Jose, who is….a cousin, of course. 

We didn’t realize how far we’d walked until we were struggling to get back up the hill to the little house.

One thing that is interesting about all of Corsica is the way that garbage is handled. Within and without every town and village, there are huge containers where people bring their “stuff.” These are essentially recycling centers with containers for paper/cans, glass, compost, garbage. We came across them in neighborhood enclosures and in the middle of the forest. Hmmm. 

_________________________

Cipponu

Although the little house in Cartavalonu is where Francis and Fabi spend their time, it is too small for a guest. Fortunately for me, Francis’s sister, Marie Antoinette offered her home in Cipponu for my stay. She lives in Versailles near Paris, and won’t be going to Corsica until the middle of June this year. Fabi and I stayed in her house which was also one of the ancestral homes. The house is big and has a large, rather untamed garden with incredible flowers and a large orange tree. Yes, we had fresh oranges all the time and they had the most intense flavor. We enjoyed them with our “tartine” for morning breakfast. (Bread and homemade jam or honey). 

 From the house in Cipponu, we went up the mountain to the little house and to the other tourist places. Although the distances aren’t that far in terms of kilometers, the roads are exhausting to drive because of all the turns up and down the mountains. Fabi had to constantly be aware of the motorcycles passing us, the bicyclists taking up part of the road, the tour buses struggling to make the hairpin turns and the cars coming from the other direction who weren’t sure where the center line was. Fabi was exhausted and this was the hardest part about being in Corsica. We took “rest” days when she didn’t drive at all. By the second week, I’m sure she would have preferred to be in her little house in the mountain village. I can’t express how much I appreciate her time and effort to show me everything. She is a gem of a cousin for sure.