1099 – ‘Corse Venturer’ – Corsica

Nous avons fini la GR20 – We finished the GR20

It’s easy to agree to something if you don’t know what you have agreed to. And when I agreed, extremely willingly, to do the GR20, I deny even knowing its location. I also didn’t know the meaning of GR20- the Big Excursion, which surely should have given me some indication. But gradually, as I accumulated equipment, saved money to exchange as euros and attempted to follow a fitness regime, the adventure became apparent.

Upon our arrival and initial acclimatization in Calenzana – apart from the heat, which sent you a “welcoming” UV slap, the animals and sheer ruggedness of the land were a most striking feature. The land seemed to zigzag along and form perpendicular granite cliffs. And whilst walking, tempting glacial lakes might appear from round a bend. Throughout the expedition the temptation of jumping into lakes or waterfalls became reality. Another reality was the number of ants. A plague of ants covered the island and a particular discussion I can remember suggested ants being the Corsican national animal. A totally plausible proposition.

In our eyes the 2706-meter mound resembled Mount Everest. However it was Monte Cintu, the highest summit in Corsica. Reaching the summit was a real achievement for us. I was a bit dazed because I had never imagined reaching it. We had just climbed and scrambled at high altitude. We had just completed it! And, sitting on the peak I realized we were at the highest point of the island. We were sitting above the clouds, only birds and planes overhead. The suns rays continued to singe our Scottish skin but the view was not compromised. It was stunning. On the descent, I know we were tired, dehydrated and sun kissed… or sunburnt in some cases, but the proud and complimentary hi-fives passing around the group said it all.

Feeling rather like ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’, it was time to conquer the Cirque de la Solitude- the hardest section of the GR20. The cloud disappeared leaving clear air ahead, in front, and behind us. As my mind and stomach spun with anticipation, I could see clear air below. I remember looking down, straight down to a lot of vertical rock, slabs and scree. It is not only the view I recall but also the anxiety I had of the drops beneath us.

At the bottom, after a memorably smelly chorizo for lunch, we were immediately clipped in and harnessed up to begin the uphill section. We experienced our first Via Ferreta climbing. Via Ferreta sections are ones that include iron chains and ladders and consequently nerves of steel. I believe the nerves amongst us were well controlled but I am thankful of the helmet which obviously protected my head but hopefully hid most of my slightly fearful facial expressions from the others. That evening whilst sitting, eating a pitifully small locally made omelette and immersed in our banter, I felt reinforced with newly found confidence, which for me continued to grow throughout the trip.

Food. Something very close to our hearts. The rationing of it was certainly a challenge for the others and myself. Our rucksacks would be around 20kg each day, and within that would be food for a few days. If we rationed it, there was obviously enough food to last the period. However the dilemma was that we would covet food and never leave the right amount. For example a jar of nutella (a clear favorite amongst us) ended up disappearing in about 2 days, rather than the intentional week.

However I think we all benefitted from learning a few valuable culinary skills. Cooking pasta or rice every night on the trip certainly meant nearing the end, we could cook up a non-burnt and imaginative meal. The non-burn concept took me longer to grasp and due to my lack of attention one of our mess tins became caked in a starchy concrete. This resulted in my friend that I cooked with becoming the official “stirrer”.

Some might think that after 17 days of following red and white route markers might make us almost pro. Mistake. On the final day of walking, we managed to sidetrack off the proven route onto a more “scenic” route and into something I can only describe as river and bush and trees and thorns and some more bush. We slashed at this with our poles and decided next year’s kit list definitely required a machete.

Looking back on a diary entry written during the expedition, it reads “I feel like am turning into Tarzan.” Now I am home, yes I am tanned but I am not more macho and I do not swing from trees. Firstly I’ve made friends with new people, from this I think have gained more tolerance of others. At times we did argue like married couples but we also hysterically laughed. Personally I feel I am less of a city girl, having been given this opportunity to “rough it”- go to the toilet in holes, endure cold showers, camp and wash my own clothes. This experience has provided me with many things. Not only do I have a little more muscle, I feel mentally stronger and much more self-assured. This is something which I need to continue to develop, but presently is extremely valuable.Laura Cooper