Some impressions from Corsica in 2009

This year's Easter saw me on Corsica, always a good address for spending some time paddling (if in my case, just 10 days). As always, we were spoilt for choice of rivers. We spent most time on the eastern side of the island, with some of our large group remaining there for the whole trip.

The loading personnel of the ferry know their business. Through either their competence or luck, I can still (just) open both the sliding door and the front passenger door, which is pure luxury on a ferry stuffed to the gills. That I can open the back hatch most of the way is entirely due to the kayak trailer's long towing bar. After the trip, before unloading, the front passenger door is blocked by the car next to my van — someone neglected to ratchet their parking brake tight, not me, honest!

	After two days of paddling in, on lower Vecchio (moderate) and upper Golo (sporting), I start snapping pics on Travo. Due to a relatively high water level, weekday restrictions on the upper part and concerns about overcrowding the following day, we decide to run the lower part. Some of it is rather "amphibious", challenging mostly for finding a way through at all, but where the water runs together, there are some impressive holes indeed. Those who speed into the hole unwarned take the subway, and our one-armed bandit needs a roll.

We decide to take it easy the next day, running the Tavignano canyon together with our less advanced pals. Not all of them are as relaxed as we are. It turns out that the lower part of Tavignano, which is a first for me, also has some nice bits.

	At the put-in of Fium Orbo, the satellite dish I noted last time (report; detailed photo) has been relocated to a rock for better reception, though the old tree-based mount is still there. The river is great, with drops and narrow canals between the rocks, but I entirely forget to photograph enough.

	After transferring to the western part of Corsica, we spend two days on Taravo. The put-in of the first section features two nice V-shaped stoppers, which are a must and a bit hard on the weaker members of our group. We spend the night on a picturesque bit of grassland after bargaining with the owner's brother, who takes it upon himself to supplement his rather dreamy brother's income. On the following day, we continue on Taravo, where yours truly takes a swim at the bottom of a 4-metre fall (this one). Still, the rest of the section makes it quite a worthwhile run.

Getting an early start at the take-out, we kill some time looking around Ajaccio, first looking for a parking spot and then on foot. On the way to joining up with our pals, we drive through the Calanche de Piana, magnificent red rocks dropping off into the sea. Parking is not a problem so long as you do not let yourself be distracted by no-parking signs or rock fall warnings.

We spend the night on the beach, using a half-built beach cafe as a wind guard for cooking and eating. Some of us sleep in their usual tents or vans, some in a roomy cave on the beach, and some limp into the cave looking bedraggled ten minutes after the rain started. Most of us have a restful night, and this being Corsica, the police who turn up in the morning pay as little attention to the No Camping sign as we do, and merely kill some time chatting with the builders.

The west coast part of our group splits up again, with some doing Liamone and some Fango. Curious but unsure about Liamone, I chicken out completely and accompany the Liamone group by car. There is a rocky tower inside a meander of the river, which is marked as a viewpoint on my map and which we spend some time trying to climb. Parking is not a problem if you are relaxed about backing towards rocks and climbing a metre up to get back in.

This is the point at which the battery of my camera gives out completely, so you will be spared any more pictures (but not the banter). After meeting with the whole group half way to the east coast, those riding in my van have an additional day available due to having booked a later ferry. Thomas and me do a short run on Asco, which is hugely relaxing after the circus of 20 or more paddlers the previous days. We spend the night on the northern peninsula, where there are no whitewater rivers but a rugged landscape. At our (non-official) camp site we meet a group of Czech kite surfers who are devastated by our reports of low winds.

The following day, after a stroll through Bastia, we embark on the return ferry, and start our long drive home at not much more than the 80 km/h mandated by the trailer.