Before the pedants get their knickers in a twist, let me state that the title is a pun. So calm down and carry on with something else.
There is not much local vin on Corsica, much more on the island to the South, Sardinia. The beverage of choice on Corsica is beer brewed from chestnuts. Chestnuts were the basis of nutrition on Corsica in the old days, before chestnut blight and the reach of French and international food brands put an end to that.
So this trip report is about the GR 20 (vingt en Français), a route that crosses the island of Corsica in the Mediterranean. It’s about 180 km (~ 120 mi) with 28,000 m (~95000 ft) vertical change. It is part of the French long distance hiking route system Grande Randonnée, abbreviated as”GR”.
I love hikes where you can look from the mountains out to the sea, so this trek speaks to me for that reason. One can do this hike self-supported, with bivouacs along the way or by renting a tent space from the refuges, or one can sign on for a guided trip with meals in refuges and stays in refuge-provided tents. Fit hikers can do the route in 10 days if the conditions are good, 14 days will suffice for most others. One can get to Corsica by air, flying into Calvi airport, or by ferry from the French mainland (Marseille, Toulon, Nice). All three port cities are on the French high-speed train network and easily reached within a few hours from Paris. I prefer hiking from the SE in a northerly direction while most hikers start near Calvi going South. My preference is due to my reluctance to use the refuges for camping or food. I carry all or most of my food for the trek and want to eat through some of it before hitting the high alpine. With the same resupply strategy walking South, you’d be on very difficult terrain with a very heavy pack.
I hiked the GR 20 twice in the last two years, not finishing either time for different reasons. In late June 2022 there was late snowfall in the high mountains followed by a partial melt-out. This led to some high passes being covered in ice. The French gendarmerie got tired of rescuing people by helicopter and decreed a closure of the trail for all hikers without crampons and ice axes. I had neither of these and owing to my shoe size (US 14 in wide), I could not buy crampons from a hiker who had completed the Northern part of the route. In early Fall 2024 there was early snow and a protracted norovirus outbreak that led to mass casualties.
In 2022 I had already been exhausted by the time I reached the starting point I had chosen, as a result of a 18 hrs double red-eye flight, a subsequent night train from Paris to Toulon and an overnight ferry ride. I thought I could tough it out, but that was a bone-headed mistake. I should have rested for a night. This year I did and it was remarkable how much easier the first days went.
The ferry arrives at Porto Vecchio in the early morning hours. You then hustle to the bus station (Gare routière) and catch the bus heading to Bastia. Purchase a ticket to St Lucie de Porto Vecchio (€11 in 2024) and after a relatively short ride you get off by the side of the road. There is a major supermarket at the entrance to St. Lucie. It is your last shopping opportunity for food stuffs unless you like to get ripped off at the épiceries (convenience markets) connected to some of the refuges. Ok, so “ripped off” is not fair, the stuff has to be flown up there by helicopter, but it is pricey, very pricey.
You next hike for about 75-90 min along a narrow but not too busy road to Conca. As you enter town on the right-hand side is a restaurant cum camping and that’s where I stayed for my first night. You will be camping with people who have just finished the GR 20 and you will have an opportunity to get information on current conditions.
Cork oak (top) and harvested cork oak bark (bottom) at the campground
I left early next morning climbing steep roads to eventually get on single track and further steep climbing in a dry drainage that doubles as a trail. The trail flattens out and you cross a ridge to gain a great view of the ocean below.
After a couple of hours of up and down on mostly decent and marked trail (red/white blazes) you come to a steep and rather rough descent followed by some contouring to get you to Refugio Paliri. I had no intention of staying there because it’s a) rather expensive (€ 18 for a tent spot), b) rather crowded, c) not particularly clean and sanitary, and d) the facilities are not numerous enough for the number of people camping there. After getting some water I continued in direction of Col de Bavella. At first it’s an easy contour, then a steep, narrow, rocky climb to a pass followed by a gentle descent down to a road which crosses a stream with good water. I then climbed again to a spot I had noticed in 2022 where I bivouaced off trail on a grassy bench.
On the way to Refugio Paliri
Next morning as I was packing up the rain started. I continued to Col Bavella where the cold winds were howling and the rain drops were flying horizontally. While in 2022 I had followed the high route in direction of Refugio Asinau, the conditions did not suggest that the exposure to the elements on the high route would be enjoyable. I therefore chose the standard route which runs at least in part in the forest and is more protected from the elements. After several hours of contouring and up and down, I reached a stream crossing where I had found a nice campsite two years earlier. I decided to use it again and good thing I did! As the late afternoon progressed the rain subsided, but the wind got stronger and stronger. I was reasonably well-shielded but my tent pegs were repeatedly ripped out of the ground until I had weighed them down with head-size rocks. I heard next day that up at Refugio Asinau the wind speed reached 105 km/h and that tents and gear had been blown away.
As I reached the refuge the next morning it looked as if a bomb had gone off. I just got some water and then scrambled up the hillside to Bocca Stazzunara. At the top the cold and blustery wind was howling and the rain was again flying horizontally. I chose the standard route via Refugio Bergerie I Croci and I arrived there hypothermic and shivering. I had lunch and felt quite good as I left the dining room only to be cold immediately again as I stepped outside. After another hour I had enough and bivouaced in an area where this was not allowed, but I was stealthy and nobody complained (to me anyway). It was a very cold night and I woke up to hoar covering the ground.
I walked to Ref Matalza and then along a creek in the back of it to the beginning of the climb up to the Crête which leads to Refugio Usciolu. The walk along the crête is a somewhat airy affair and the blazes are not quite up to snuff in places. I lost the marked trail twice but eventually the game trails I was following instead linked up with the hiking trail, so no harm, no foul.
A view into Corsica's interior. Many houses in these villages are unoccupied, but not abandoned, the families having moved to the cities for work
A somewhat wider view of the same area as above
At Ref Usciolu the sun was shining and I stopped there to dry out my gear before climbing up the hillside behind the refuge to another crête. On the backside there is a steep descent ending in a contour with some bivouacing opportunities that I remembered from 2022. It worked out great, I had the place to myself and spent a calm night protected from the wind at that site.
Next morning an hour’s hike got me to Bocca di Lazaro from which I descended using the Mare a Mare trail in direction of the chapel St. Lucille. I had done the same thing two years earlier in order to avoid the knee-busting descent from Ref de Prati to Ref Col de Verde. The descent to the chapel is steep as well, but it runs in the forest and the trail bed is softer here than the rocky trail from Ref. De Prati
From the chapel a fire road contours all the way to Ref Col de Verde with some piped springs along the way, which I remembered from 2022. As I was walking this dirt road I felt not well at all, something I had eaten the day before was not settling down. I got weaker and weaker and eventually I just put up my tent by the side or the road and just slept. Next morning I felt slightly better, but not good, and dragged my sorry ass to Col de Verde. I cooked myself some tea and as soon as that hit my stomach I started vomiting. Nice!
At that point a taxi brought in a hiker who had dropped out from his N to S hike owing to Norovirus stomach flu. He reported on snow in the upper parts of the GR 20 and the effects of the virus on the hikers up there. Since you scramble over rocks in that section and have to touch the rocks as well as the chains that help you across steep slabs, it is virtually guaranteed that you will pick up the virus if it is going around. You really only need a few viral particles to get infected and the conditions are not really all that great for the practice of good hand hygiene, which in the case of norovirus requires soap and water rather than an alcohol hand sanitizer.
As a result I dropped out, took the cab to the train station at Vizzavona, where I had stopped the last time and took the train to Bastia to return to the French mainland via the ferry. For a second time no dice on the GR 20! Who knows when I will be back. It is beautiful, for sure.
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