Since the others were flying, another of Elsa's friends, Tommy (whom we all now call Tommy Whoops on account of the children's finger game I played with him the first time we met) was in charge of bringing Elsa's beloved pup Rillette (named after the paté) down with us. That meant a 3-hour train ride and an 11-hour ferry, which turned out to be way more fun than I had anticipated.
The train down was largely uneventful.
When we arrived in Toulon, Tommy suggested we get dinner before heading to the ferry (for which we only had a confirmation number). Not yet on "vacation brain," I nervously insisted on finding the ferry first, getting our tickets and then going to dinner. Which was a good thing, because we ended up getting super lost and at one point watched what we thought was our boat pull out of the harbor. But eventually we got everything sorted out and then found the nearest restaurant to have a bite before the boat. Once we sat down, we declared ourselves on vacation and were able to enjoy our meal.
We made our way to the ferry, which was called "The Mega Express" for a reason. This is the boat.
I don't know why, but before the trip I had never even considered the possibility that the 11-hour ferry ride could actually be fun. But this was more like a cruise ship than a regular boat. The "lobby" was lined in shiny gold and the speakers throughout the place played Barry White, like we were on an episode of "The Love Boat." Since Tommy wouldn't let me pay for dinner I insisted on buying us drinks at the bar.
La classe! We took our drinks outside and watched the waves rushing below us. The sea was black, the sky was black, and there was nothing but the moon and the waves. I looked up to the upper deck of the boat, which was cordoned off by a pansy-looking chain, and told Tommy I wanted to go up there. "Okay, let's go," he said. We hopped over the chain and went up to the upper-upper deck, which we later learned was a heliopad. It was immensely dark, beautiful, and we felt very free. We toasted to rebellion. Then we got caught.
We went to the "disco" deck, where there was a Tiki bar and loud, trashy music playing. A few lonely men were sitting by themselves looking at the Jacuzzi. Tommy started dancing right away, all by himself, out on the deck.
It was a fun way to start the trip. The next morning we were gently woken by the dulcet tones of the Corsican ship manager, who announced over a loudspeaker that it was 5:30am and we would be docking in one hour. This was the gorgeous view outside our window:
And this is what we saw as we approached Ajaccio.
We hopped off the Mega Express and had breakfast while waiting for Vincent, Elsa's boyfriend, to pick us up.
Vincent arrived and we were off, in an open Jeep on a 1-hour ride up to Cargése, population: 1,500.
Before I knew it we were at Elsa's beautiful family home (yes, I will be saying "beautiful" a lot in this post). I took this photo and I thought, "I cannot believe this is my life."
Elsa was showing us our choice of rooms and Tommy insisted I take this one. I can't imagine why. But I did say "I've always wanted one of those!" when I saw the white drapey thing over the bed. It was a little-girl fantasy of mine; I guess I thought of it as something like one step down from a four-poster bed. He looked at me kind of funny and later I realized it's just a mosquito net.
Then it was time to relax. Since I had just finished my novella and had written six articles the week before I left, I felt like I'd earned it.
Elsa was very casual.
We just laid around, listened to '80s French pop hits on the radio and read and talked. In the afternoon we went to the beach, where the water was the same temperature as a perfect rosé and as clear as the glass on a well-cleaned arcadia door.
The boys played volleyball, while Elsa and I read and recreated silly magazine ads. This one featured a woman bursting out of the ocean holding a bottle of rum and bearing a pirate knife between her teeth.
Ah, petite Rillette. Trop mignon.
This little diva is always finding a way into our photo shoots.
We ate dinner in most nights, on the back patio with this as the view (I love the moonlight bouncing off the Mediterranean):
Oh! I forgot to mention Jessica and Artus, the other couple that was with us (along with their baby). They are both super cool: Jessica is a journalist, and Artus is an artist and writer. We got along fabulously.
Good morning!
Just another day in paradise, chillin' next to the pool, slathering on the SPF 50. Artus and bébé:
Homemade quiche and pizza (I took down the recipe):
And more time at the beach. Vincent read to Rillette:
(that's our beach):
Elsa is so French, so feminine, and so beautiful. She's like a walking Vogue photo shoot.
That night we had dinner in the village. It's about a ten- or fifteen-minute walk from the house.
The French have this funny habit of putting eggs on their pizzas, which has always seemed sacrilegious to me, but I decided to try it this time. Like most French food, it looks disgusting but tastes AMAZING.
In the evenings, we just chilled at home, drank wine and played Jungle Speed, which is my favorite game and was bequeathed to me by my friend Michael as a parting gift when I left PS. It has proven to be a great game to get to know people. Oh, more photos of the moon.
The next day Jess and I visited the village and checked out its two facing churches, one Greek and one Latin. They were beautiful and smelled like Catholicism.
The usual.
Elsa's house is the one below on the right, with the pale blue shutters.
Here she is having breakfast.
We went, all seven of us, down to the beach for lunch and plage-ing. We had a nice meal at this cute place on the beach and at the end of it got complimentary digestifs from the owner.
no problems
Jess busted out her Clubmaster vanilla cigarillos, which I had tried when my parents were in town, and which do go well indeed with a digestif after a fine meal.
Then... it started to rain. Tommy and Vincent steered into it and went canoeing in the sea, while the rest of us read with coffees under shelter.
Funnily enough, Tommy and Vincent accidentally brought the same book on vacation: The Picture of Dorian Gray. How crazy is that?
Another sunset...
The next day we went into the village for lunch together.
I stopped into a brocante (antiques) shop and went wild.
We had intended to go to the "best burger place in all of Corsica" but it was closed (thankfully - we went later and it was the worst excuse for a burger I've ever seen or tasted). Instead we ended up at this intimate bistro where I had the best carpaccio of my whole life (which I feel like I say every single time I have carpaccio, but really, this one was ridiculous).
Not to mention the best profiteroles of my life too... words can't describe it. Vincent and I were the only ones un-demure enough to order dessert....
But of course we were not the only ones to EAT it. It was destroyed in less than two minutes.
That night Elsa invited all of her Corsican friends over (which was a language nightmare for me) and after several hours of trying in vain to understand the ten overlapping voices of Italian-inflected French being wrought upon me, I suggested we play a game which requires no language: Jungle Speed. Really, this game brings the world together, and fast.
And before you know it, it's the last day (though it probably doesn't feel like it from reading this crazy long post). Though it rained for most of the day, it cleared by the late afternoon and we were determined to have a great last evening together. Beach picnic it was.
We brought charcuterie, veggies, leftover pizza and wine, plus volleyball, raquetball, and the sense of peace and happiness that only a week at the beach can provide.
Group photo!
The progression of the sunset was a thing to behold. It just got better and better and better. Did I mention we'd taken a hike to this tower in the distance a few days before? I was afraid it would rain so I didn't bring my camera. Anyway, the sunset:
And its beauty reflected on the land behind us.
So we had a little photo shoot. Elsa and Vincent are the world's most beautiful couple, as far as I'm concerned, and their effortless French loveliness was perfectly suited to the rosy sunset around us.
Not to be outdone by humans:
Finally, with one last electric pink and orange gasp, the sun set, and when it came back again the next morning, our vacation was over.
And it was time for more Mega Expressin'.
And peering thoughtfully into the sun.
And watching old ladies watching Toulon approach.
There it is.
And there we were.
I have to say, it was one of the best vacations of my life. My French improved vastly, and I made some very good friends. A beautiful location, good food, and best of all - good people to spend it with. I love Corsica.
