Cap Corse is a feature of Corsica that is immediately noticeable to any geography buff, a finger-like projection from the northeastern coast that is structured like a miniature version of the entire island. There is a central mountainous spine that extends lateral ridges towards the coast in either direction, with most of the significant population centers in the occasional narrow valleys close to the shoreline. There is a main road that extends most of the way around the peninsula and three serpentine transverses that cross the mountains along the midline. It's the kind of place that could easily occupy a focused traveler for a week or more, but we had less than a full day to quickly cover the highlights of the peninsula.
Our first stop was just twenty minutes from Bastia along the coastal road. Erbalunga is a medieval fishing village that was once an important port for the Genoese. It was a logical starting point because it had a morning market on Mondays, although when we arrived the first vendors were just beginning to get set up in front of the town hall. The modern part of the village was inland from the coastal road, while the pedestrianized old town occupied a tiny promontory on the opposite side. If we hadn't known what we were looking for we would have never known the old town existed, as there was just one minor lane leading into it from the coastal road. The empty streets were quiet and austere, with building exteriors of brown and grey that bore the scars of heavy exposure to the elements. Nevertheless, cheerful greenery had been placed in every available space that wasn't already occupied by the crowded buildings. Thunderclouds filled the sky overhead and hardly anyone defied the threat of rain to have coffee in the one spacious plaza. 
Within the town there were some artfully preserved remnants of its Genoese history. The stone walls of an old church had been carefully restored and reinforced yet the structure remained unroofed. At the tip of the promontory was a typical dual-chambered watchtower, its solitary window revealing the absence of the tower's seaward wall. The tower seemed to have been surfaced in mortar at one time but most of it had crumbled, revealing the irregular layers of flat stones that formed the body of the cylinder. 
We followed a flagstone path that coursed north, parallel to the shore, for a couple of hundred meters to the town's small, stony beach. There were countless flat rocks strewn across the black, volcanic sand and stacking them was clearly a favorite pastime of those visiting the beach. Once the kids saw this they naturally wanted to make their own stacks, an activity which might have continued all morning if I hadn't eventually dragged them away. By the time we had crossed back to the town hall the market was in full swing but it was quite small with limited food options. We grabbed a couple of quick snacks to tide us over until lunch and pulled back out onto the coastal road.
We drove north until the coastal road ended close to the tip of the peninsula and then followed the road inland to the hillside town of Rogliano. The old churches and Genoese tower occupied prominent positions at the top of the town, which featured a few freshly-painted yellow and orange buildings that contrasted with the typical drab exteriors. We found a colorful little cafe on the side of the main road for Mei Ling to finally get her morning coffee while I got oriented to the bewildering three-dimensional layout of the town. 
Just above the cafe the sixteenth century Sant'Agnellu church glowed resplendently after a recent renovation. Across the road the most distinguished hotel in Rogliano, U Sant Agnellu, was nestled within a hairpin loop. The building was once Rogliano's town hall and displayed classic French style with a peach-colored exterior and navy blue shutters. 
From the colorful flagstone terrace in front of the church we had seen another part of the town connected to it by a short section of the main road. We walked on the shoulder, discovering some trees with green plums along the way. The modern buildings had been constructed around yet another Genoese tower in this section of the town, its lower level sunken into the hillside. 
We spent a few pleasant minutes wandering around this residential portion of the town, trying not to accidentally barge onto anyone's front porch. Like everywhere in northern Corsica, schist was a major component of the man-made environment from walls to steps to pavement. Despite all this stone the village was alive with greenery and colors from flowering bougainvillea, hydrangeas, and oleander. Thanks to the staggered tiers of buildings, every home seemed to have a view of the Mediterranean for the sunrise.
We were almost halfway through our journey by now and there had been no shortage of incredible scenery, from Castelli Romani to the Calanques de Piana, but I'm not sure anything matched the breathtaking views over the rugged Corsican coastline that we experienced from the Moulin Mattei. Just fifteen minutes driving from Rogliano had taken us almost to the western edge of Cap Corse and then a five minute walk up a winding path from the parking area brought us to the top of the hill on which the eighteenth century windmill stood. The mill was nearly destroyed by a lighting strike in 1836 and was then bought by the Mattei family of Bastia who restored it as an advertisement for their liqueur business. 
The area around the mill was heavily downtrodden with just a few patches of brown grass amid the dirt and fractured schist. Further down the hill and stretching across the landscape everything was covered with maquis, the ubiquitous evergreen shrub that is as symbolic of Corsica as the Testa Mora. Not far from the mill there was a shrine to Saint Divota, a young Corsican woman who was stoned to death during the Diocletian persecution of Christians in the early fourth century. Saint Divota is also the patron saint of Monaco, where her remains were transported after Christians saved her body from being cremated by the Romans. I took a short walk for a better view of the coastline, braving a pile of ankle-twisting chunks of rock to make a video recording of this remarkable moment.
We zigzagged down to the coast to have lunch at Port de Centuri, probably the most popular harbor town in Cap Corse. It was already after one and we had barely eaten anything that morning so we made finding a restaurant our first priority. There was a row of nice-looking places on the street leading into the harbor so we parked and chose the one with the most enticing menu. We had quite a hearty lunch of langouste, fried whitebait, and seafood pasta and then walked down to the small harbor which was surrounded by outdoor restaurants. I felt a small pang of buyer's remorse as we had eaten at a far less scenic spot, but who knows if a different restaurant would have provided a meal quite as satisfying.
There was a small network of alleys and stone staircases behind the restaurants on the north side of the harbor. We spent a few minutes exploring this tiny old quarter before going back to the harbor to buy gelato for the kids, which they consumed at the maquis-covered shoreline.
The main road on the western side of Cap Corse was a corniche, in contrast to the coastal road on the east. There were convenient shoulders at the best viewpoints which we took advantage of to appreciate the views of the hillside village of Pino and yet another ruined Genoese watchtower on the coast below. The coastal cliffs began to look more volcanic until they reminded me of the lava flows we had driven through in Iceland.
One of the jewels of Cap Corse is the clifftop town of Nonza, which was Corsica's entry for the 2016 edition of a television show called "“Le Village Préféré des Français” (it placed sixth overall). Parking was extremely tight but we eventually wedged into a spot on the side of the main road. This was the busiest town we had visited in Cap Corse, perhaps because it was already afternoon and even the latest risers were now in full tourist mode. The main attraction in Nonza is the eighteenth century square tower built on the orders of Pasquale Paoli to defend against the French during the struggle for Corsican independence. When the French eventually besieged the tower all the Corsicans fled except for one wounded captain who kept the attackers at bay by rigging several muskets to fire simultaneously using a string. The French were eventually convinced they were at a stalemate and agreed to a truce, only to be amazed when a solitary defender emerged. A winding staircase led from the town to the base of the tower atop the promontory.
From the terrace around the tower we could see the restaurant that filled the tip of the promontory, occupying the ruins of some building built from the same gray-green stone as the tower. Just a metal fence stood between the diners and the precipice. To the north was one of the most remarkable beaches I have ever seen, mostly grey but with bands of blue and green close to the water where seaweed was deposited. Behind the beach was the hillside, from which runoff had covered the adjacent sand with brown patches. There was no one on the beach but countless messages had been left behind in the form of graffiti and drawings made by moving the colored pebbles. The beach's coloration is due to the heavy serpentine content of the local rock, much of which washed up on the beach after being dumped into the sea as a byproduct of asbestos mining. No word on whether the beach itself has ever been tested for asbestos contamination. 
Only the tower and a small section of the town were located on the seaward side of the main road. From the terrace we had a bird's eye view of the remainder of the town, including the colorful and faded church of Santa Giulia. Giulia was another early Christian martyr who is the patron saint of Nonza. After descending from the tower we found a perfect juice bar where we got fresh-squeezed lemonade to rehydrate the kids. 
Next to the church a wide stone staircase ascended to upper levels of the village. There was a fascinating art gallery here and a terrace from which we could look back at Paoli's tower. The jumble of buildings underneath looked as though they had grown out of the cliff. Four chairs had been conveniently placed looking out over the grey beach and the smooth blue sea. Little signs behind the chairs proclaimed "ceci est une oeuvre d'art". I couldn't have agreed more.
The corniche road continued south until we reached the transverse road at the base of the peninsula that would take us back to Bastia. Ang the way we were treated to more magnificent scenery including rolling hills covered with the omnipresent lush green maquis, patchworks of fields, and the blue Mediterranean in the distance.
We got back to Bastia to make one final stop, a shopping spree at the Mattei Concept Store on Place Saint Nicolas. This was the flagship store of the same Mattei family that had renovated the hilltop windmill we had visited earlier in the day. The family business began as a distillery, specializing in wines and liqueurs derived from local fruits and even berries from the maquis. Naturally the liqueurs were featured prominently with a colorful bar available in the rear of the store for tastings, but the shop also had a substantial array of local products such as breads, sausages, and preserves. This was quite a convenient moment to be visiting the store as we were on our way to catch an overnight ferry to the Italian mainland and had no time for dinner before departure. There was a cafeteria on the ferry, but it would be nice to supplement it with some delicious Corsican specialties.
As soon as we were settled on the ferry we headed to the dining area and broke out our hoard of delicacies from Mattei. Soon the coastline of Corsica was receding into the distance. We might never have visited this remarkable island if it hadn't been directly in our path between Sardinia and Genoa but I was very glad to have included it in our itinerary. Corsica had provided a rewarding blend of Italian and French culture mixed with a flavor that was entirely unique. We had enjoyed both the cities and the amazing landscape, and it is possible we might return someday for a more thorough exploration. We would now be focused on the Italian mainland for the next three weeks and change, driving through renowned provinces of northern Italy and soaking in the atmosphere of legendary cities such as Milan and Florence. 
This featured blog entry was written by zzlangerhans from the blog Fledgling Explorers.
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