Can you tell me..............

.........that stroppy bloke's nationality? Cors i can. Good afternoon from a very warm Promenade des Anglais in Nice. We arrived here yesterday from Corsica. First time I have been to Corsica and I liked it. The terrain is somewhere between Scotland and Arizona. Many of the people I had cause to interact with were refreshigly rude, which is fair enough. I was put on my guard immediately as the taxi driver who took us from the airport to Ajaccio resolved our minor disagreement over how much I owed him by butting me with his big tummy like those people in inflateable sumo suits do to each other. Bienvenue, I say. Bonifacio is perched dramatically on cliffs which is good because the drama ends right there, everyone starts packing up at about nine pm. Porto Vecchio, I liked very much. It has a buzzy but relaxed atmosphere (including some characteristically kurt locals), cool bars and shops. What is fabulous about this town is its poroximity to delicious white sandy beaches and the most unusually shaped mountains. The beaches are lined with aromatic pine trees where you can get out of the heat. In the mountains there are numerous walks. We went did one which takes you to the vertiginous (literally tranlated) Chicken Piss waterfall.


Cascade

It was quite a strenous morning, climbing up and then down to the bottom of the very noisey cascade. So much so that I went for a dip in a stream a little later. I took the precaution of finding a pool well off the beaten track as I had no suitable clothing, anyway it is much nicer without, I find.


Sorry....no jeans

I had got out and dressed with seconds to spare before a small group of people looking for a quiet place to micturate popped over the ridge (so it's not just the poultry). On the way back to the car I must have looked a bit deshevelled as a concerned hiker asked me about how difficult the walk was and even offered me some bread.

Once again I have packed prism glasses unneccesarily.