The area west of the gulf of St Florent is called the Desert des Agriates. The name means bread basket, and this region was so rich in wheat that the Genoese imposed a punitive fiscal regime to make sure extra cash wasn't financing insurrection. But too much farming and soil erosion, and many fires, have laid waste, and now this is a huge area of scrub maquis. Beautiful for walking, swimming and wildlife, and a loss of productive land.
We decided to explore by walking along the coast path. Not planning on a huge hike, we rowed ashore and left Bridget neatly anchored. Or we were arranging this when we saw a RIB full of blokes investigating Roaring Girl. Pip did some womanful rowing back for us to be greeted by the douanes (customs) wanting to inspect our papers. Usual drill: we're politely separated and asked the same questions (as far as language allows) and one man looks casually into all cabins. They check papers and then go. It's all polite but it's still men with guns tromping around our decks!.
So off we go again, and use a washed up buoy with 3m of chain as our base and a dual anchor onto the beach, leaving the dinghy comfortably afloat but out of easy temptation's reach.
After a while, we decided to keep going to Plage de la Lotu, which we had seen a ferry for from St Florent (and felt its wake) many times. There'll be a water source there, we thought, maybe even a café shack. Hundreds of folk go there every day.
We had a beautiful walk. The unique smell of Corsican maquis enveloped us, with giant fennel, the rich wild rosemary, creeping thyme all playing their part. There are several small streams to ford, many leading from small salt etangs, along the shores of which cattle graze, the long horned heads nodding for siesta. Astonishing white beaches, from big half-moons to tiny scraps of space, some deserted. Steep climbs with the shrubs above head-height, offering brief patches of shade. Glittering turquoise water in the beach shallows, ringed by deeper, darker sea where the weed and rocks flourish on the seabed.
In the photo album there are pictures of this hike, including the tiny Fornali Creek. This is shown as an anchorage but the boat permanently moored beneath the private residence on the headland severely diminishes the space
There is an old Genoese tower on this route (of course) at Baie de la Mortella. The Genoese successfully held it against Lord Hood when the British weighed in to support the independence struggle of Pasquale Paoli. Hood was so impressed that he ordered towers of similar design all over British territory, giving rise to the familiar round Martello towers of which so many were built on the British coast to defend against ... the Corsican Napoleon!
This one has very thick walls and a useful, flat stopping place. What it lacks is clear signage. If you ever do this walk, you go up from the tower - not down! We went down and had an exciting 40 minute scramble across the rocks. Neither of us are used to pushing our fingers into crannies and not breathing in case it spoils your balance. 40 minutes was enough, and then we gratefully rejoined the path.
It's still a little further to the plage, which is completely devoid of anything resembling fresh water or kiosks. By then we'd been walking for about 4.5 hours with a litre of water between us and were gasping. We took the first swim of the season off the beach: the cold snow run-off was just what we needed.
Fortunately, the ferry took us back to St Florent (despite our ticketless state: we did have money!). There we got a much needed bottle, and then hiked the last hour back to patient Bridget.
All in all we probably walked over 10 miles. Despite the water (and food) shortage we had an excellent time. We'd recommend the walk if you're in the area. There are also many good anchorages along here, though all more exposed than where we based ourselves. Lots of pictures in a new album about this hike.