On the Road Again

Pictures: Statue of Napoleon Bonaparte in Plaza San Nicolas, view of the entrance to the old harbor from the citadel, one of the huge cruise ships that seem to call at Bastia daily, looking down the coast of Corsica in the direction that I'll be riding on Tuesday, a view of teh old harbor from ground level with the mountains and clouds in the background.

August 27, 2010 O’Brien’s Pub, Logan Airport, Boston 193/1839 3:30pm

It’s been a long time away from the journal/blog, and there’s a great reason for that. On August 19, 2010, my mother passed away at Beth Israel Deaconness Medical Center. She was surrounded by all of her children, her sister Cathie, and her nieces Gretchen and Marion.

Since then, it’s been pretty much a whirlwind. I spent most of the time at Wendy’s house. My Uncle Tom flew in from Washington. He stayed at Mom’s house along with Karen (and later Sean and Meghan).

The above mileage totals reflect the riding I did after the PanMass Challenge around Scituate, Cohasset, and Hull. I even bought a t-shirt on one visit to Nantasket Beach. It’s a grey t-shirt with “Go to Hull” on the front. Simple but charming.

August 29, 2010 Bastia, Corsica 2:15 pm

Back at that travel thing…

I didn’t write too much on the above entry for a couple of reasons…

1) My flight was leaving very soon, and I still had to buy a converter so I could plug my computer in here in Corsica. The plugs take the two round prongs, and I had the three-pronged cord for America. One store had a converter for about $35. I got one that has proved quite nifty for $8;

2) I didn’t do any writing on the plane. The person in the seat in front of me (as with almost all other occupants on the Air France flight) put the seat all the way back as soon as the seat belt light went off and left it there for the duration (except for meals). Not much room to type at all. So I settled in to watch movies: Love Actually, Pretty Woman, and Valentine’s Day. I didn’t sleep at all. I got some exercise walking back and forth to the galley to get additional (small) bottles of good French red wine. At the beginning of the flight, I saw a little girl of probably 6 or 7 years old who was traveling by herself and being led onto the plane by one of the flight attendants. The little girl was SOBBING. It broke my heart to see her standing there so obviously distraught. On the flight from Paris to Marseille, there were twin boys (probably 8 or 9) travelling alone. On the Marseille to Bastia flight, there were three siblings traveling alone. Pretty interesting.

3) My battery was running pretty low when I was in the layovers in Paris and Marseille.

Anyway…

My sisters Heidi and Wendy dropped me at the airport at about 1:45pm. I hope they didn’t hit too much traffic on the way home, but I’m afraid they probably did. It was so nice of them to do that. I really enjoyed the company. The Air France counter didn’t open until almost 2:20. I was pretty close to the front of the line. Check-in took quite a bit longer than I would have imagined. First, the woman couldn’t find my Paris-Corsica-Paris itinerary. Eventually she did. I was then told that I would owe $400 for the bicycle. After a bit of conversation and consulting with others, I was informed that I was only allowed 1 piece of checked baggage and would have to pay $55 for the 2^nd. That, I would live with. When I went to another counter to pay, I inquired as to why my ticket said that I was allowed 2 piece of luggage, but here I was paying for the 2^nd. I was then informed that I didn’t have to pay for the 2^nd piece. AND, the baggage was checked all the way to Bastia, Corsica.

After that, I headed through Customs with no problem and then to O’Brian’s Pub. I hadn’t been in the International Terminal in quite a while (maybe since coming in from London last summer). Usually I fly out of Boston on American Eagle to JFK. I remembered the female bartender and most of the wait staff from my last trip. Interesting. I watched some of the Hawaii-Texas elimination game of the Little League World Series. Hawaii won. Good for them.

The 7-hour layover in Paris seemed pretty interminable. Nothing much to do. I did get a piece of ham and bacon quiche. That was pretty good. I slept for maybe 2 hours in ½ hour sessions. When we landed, the transfer terminal was pretty quiet, but it got progressively more active as we went along. Read The International Herald Tribune cover to cover. One thing I DID notice in the Paris airport was that Converse All-Stars seemed to be quite popular footwear (especially the white high-tops).

I had a window seat from Paris to Marseille. I slept for almost the entire flight, but I woke I time to see the rugged, rocky coast as we circled and came in to land. Landing in Marseille is a little like landing in Logan…coming in over the water. I found out later, we also take off over the water. Pretty exciting. There was an Air France representative waiting outside the plane to hand me my Boarding Pass for Bastia. I couldn’t get into the Transit Lounge without it. There was literally NOTHING to do in the Transit Lounge in Marseille. Oh, well. Kept comparing notes between the information in my Lonely Planet for Corsica and my Rough Guide for Corsica.

The ride to Bastia was only about 45 minutes. Again, a pretty rough-looking place. We came in with low clouds hanging over the top of the mountains in the middle of the country. The best news was that the bike and bag both arrived with me!!! How great is that? After two changes? WOW!!! Then things got interesting.

When I went to get a taxi, I was told that no taxis could go into Bastia (about 16km away). Apparently, there was a HUGE protest in Bastia which had closed all of the roads in the city!!! So, the driver told me he could drop me at a train station just outside Bastia, and I could take the train from there. As we got closer to the city, the traffic seemed to be moving much better. So, the driver called a friend of his who was in the city. Nope. Nothing was moving. False alarm. I was dropped at the train station at about 6:30. The next train was scheduled to come through at 7:11 (it came at 7:15). It was supposed to arrive in Bastia at 7:21. I muscled the bike onto the train and sat where it and all of the other luggage were for the ride of about 12 minutes into Bastia. From there, I put the bag over my shoulder and the bike box on my head and carried both about ½ a mile to the hotel, which came into view none too soon.

During the ride into town, the driver had tried to convince me that the ride from Bastia to Bonifacio was not nearly as interesting as the ride from Bastia to Calvi. PLUS, there was a train to take back to Bastia. I briefly considered changing my itinerary, but have decided to stick with my original plan. We’ll see what becomes of it.

Check-in at the Hotel Posta Vecchia went quite smoothly. I have a room with a lovely seaview (mostly big ferries). The bike is in the luggage room. I made arrangements so that I could leave my luggage here to retrieve it upon my return from Bonifacio. Good things all around.

From the hotel I wandered back down to Place Saint Nicolas, the central square in Bastia. A couple of beers and a margherita pizza later, I was heading back to the hotel. It had been a long day of travel. However, when I got close to the hotel, I saw a sign advertising an Iris pub. I had to check it out. I was the only one in the place. The barmaid, a 30-year old from Bonifacio, and I talked about life, the Universe, and everything. I was drinking Diablo beer, which she told me was Heineken with a shot of tequila in it. Whatever it was, it tasted much better than regular Heineken, of which I am not a big fan. As I was leaving at about 12:30, the place seemed to just get going. Unfortunately, the bar isn’t open again until after I leave on my cycling adventure.

Today (after shaving since the morning of Mom’s service), I’ve just spent some time wandering around the city of Bastia. My first sojourn brought me up to the Citadel and around. Pretty neat stuff and wonderful views over the city and the harbor. The day was warm, but there was a cooling breeze. Even though it’s Sunday, it seems as though all of the churches are closed. More’s the pity. Clouds seemed to be hovering over the tops of the mountains in the background o the city but those clouds have since disappeared. The sun has been out all day. I’ve bought 30 postcards at .35 € each, 3€ for 10 (total of 9€). I’ll write them and send them out before leaving here. It’ll be pretty strange not addressing one to Mom.

I’ll put the bike together tomorrow and then I leave from Bastia on Tuesday. At least that’s the plan. Let’s all keep our fingers crossed.