It was obvious from the first few kilometres that this walk was going to be ‘challenging’, both with the number of people walking the trail and the trail itself! Stephen and I differ in one fundamental way, he’s a little bit ‘gregarious’ and I’m ‘a miserable old git’. Don’t get me wrong, Stephen doesn’t like crowds either, but people do find him easy to talk to and even before we started, whilst waiting for the Spar shop to open, he managed to engage a young couple by, and I quote, ‘Don’t sit on that or your arse will be white’. Not the most obvious opening line. The young couple involved were Blanche and Quentin who we got to know well, for me it proved that friendship is not in anyway dictated to by age.

The first night cemented that initial friendship as well as with the ‘Crazy Belgium’s’. These were six young venture scouts, confident in the knowledge that they were going to walk the first half of the GR20 and failing to do so, never entered their heads. Young and full of wise cracks, and by the end of the first evening full of beer singing songs to all that would listen, (singing lessons, probably wouldn’t have gone amiss)! Their carefree attitude, I suppose reminded me of my youth, where beer and food were far more important than putting up your camp in daylight! It’s a real shame that age seems to take that away from you and finding that level patch of ground to pitch your tent is just as important, if not more so than beer, these days.

Older people readily complain about how uncourteous and disrespectful young people can be. The ‘Crazy Belgium’s’ proved how unjustifiably, judgemental some of the older generation are. Like Stephen and I, they all walked at different paces, but the slowest was always looked after, they worked as a team, with no apparent animosity. They were respectful to each other and to others and I know that these lads were not in any way exceptions to the rule. They were young carefree adults having fun. Respect has to be earned and works both ways and should never be assumed. They were a pleasure to walk with.

Blanche and Quentin had both taken engineering at university, Blanche had finished her Masters Degree and Quentin had one year left to do. Again I think it was Stephen’s stories, always extremely well told, that cemented the friendship. They were friends spending a holiday together before Quentin went back to University and Blanche…well, she seemed unsure exactly where her immediate future lay. After spending five years, having gained a scholarship in tennis, at a University in the USA I think she wanted to travel before she settled down to a full time job. Other peoples expectations and peer pressure can easily influence your decision at that age, so as I’ve always said ‘do what you want and not what other people expect of you…but do it with consideration to others’.

The pair of them were great company and overall we spent a good few days walking on and off with them. They wanted to finish in 12 days to our 14 so we parted company just before the half way point and loosely arranged to meet after we’d finished.

As we got off the shuttle bus from Conca to Port Vecchio at the end of the walk, there they were waiting for their camp-a-van to be delivered! So we arranged to meet at Page de Mare E Sole to watch the sunset and most importantly eat and drink.

There were many other ‘Monday’ people, as I’ll call them. The reason is the common start date of Monday 6th September and most peoples itinerary are fairly similar, so you’d get to know many of the ‘Monday’ starters, quite well. There was Didia, from Belgium. It was day four when I first spoke to him. He passed me whilst I rested and pleasantries were exchanged. Day four was a slow, steep, bugger of a day and he mentioned that his wife had bought him this trip as a present for his 50th Birthday, which I promptly replied that I thought it was probably grounds for divorce! And he readily agreed! I spent the next couple of days passing him while he rested and him passing me…it was a passing relationship, always with little quips as we wandered on up the trail. On his last day, which was the half way point he sat and had a beer or two with us at the hotel and we found out that his wife always bought him ‘challenging’ presents for his big Birthdays and that he lived next to where the International Sanicole Airshow is held, which just happens to be where I was going to go to take some air to air photographs, before Covid 19 rudely interrupted my plans! Contact me he says, I know someone who organises the Airshow…

Arthur and Edward, were fit, fast and annoyingly very good looking. I’m not normally one to judge men’s looks as I’m probably not a very good judge, but you know how someone like Cindy Crawford is just classically good looking, well so were these two and what was even more annoying they were, (and I hate this word) ‘nice’ people. Edward helped me out with the language barrier a number of times as I believe he was half French and half English and Arthurs English was also perfect, better than many English people I know! I didn’t get to know them well, but they were part of the trail, a trail that would have been very different without their company.

There were a number of other regulars, an Englishman in Berlin, a young Sicilian training to be a lawyer, who had aspirations to be a judge…not sure what the life expectancy for a judge in Sicily is! Six young rugby players who had walked the whole path in seven days, half the time we had! A French couple with her Mother, probably my age, the Mother that is, not the couple, she walked on her own for most of the day, whilst the daughter waited and her partner, I assume waited further on still! There were many others mainly young people who crossed our path with a nod or a bonjour. They were all part of my experience and I hope I was part of theirs.

The path was very much as I expected, the ‘hardest trail in Europe’ as it’s advertised? Probably not, hard, yes, but in a different way than say The Snowman Trek in Bhutan, but I’m pretty sure that there are harder ones in Europe. The path wasn’t controlled as the American National Park paths are, where often a permit is required but the Corsicans very much encouraged trekkers to stay at the designated Refuge’s along the path and wild camping is not tolerated. There’s no real navigation issues as the path is well marked by the white and red painted stripes every few metres. The Refuges were expensive and the meals decidedly average…the beer was good, but at €8 a can, not cheap, In fact it makes London prices look relatively inexpensive!

Looking back the only real disappointment was that you are hand led through the walk, as little or no navigational skills were required and as the Corsican National Park Authority enforces where people stay overnight then maybe they ought to look at improving the accommodation and food. French and Italian Refuge’s are generally excellent with modern facilities. However, if the Park Authority the same excellent facilities found in the Alps, then either provide only the very basics or no facilities at all, which would make the path far more interesting and challenging.

The walk was wonderful, the company was excellent. The mountains though, of course, are the show stoppers, they were why we were there. Maybe the inadequate, power hungry politicians and out spoken journalists of this world need to take a lesson from Nature and how it adapts silently as it tries to show us where our future should lie! On a lighter note…I have to sign off with my favourite part of the trip…

The cake at the end!