Love letter to Corsica
From first sight to forever: My Corsican love story.
I’m not a strong believer in love at first sight, but Corsica, I can’t deny that I fell for you the minute I set eyes on your majestic mountains rising from the sea.
You know that kind of beauty that lingers long after you’ve looked away? Raw, powerful, with a magnetic pull you can’t quite explain. That was nearly 30 years ago; I was just a teenager then. But even now, whenever I travel away, the moment I catch sight of you from the window or the deck upon my return, the same feelings wash over me.
Corsica, you have my heart, and over the years, I’ve fallen for you in ways I never expected.
From easy love…
Some might argue that falling for you is inevitable. After all, you’re not nicknamed ‘the Island of Beauty’ for nothing. I can’t think of anyone who’s visited you and not found you stunning. The first few times I came to you in summer, I, too, was drawn to your most obvious charms — heavenly beaches, jaw-dropping landscapes, delicious food. Of course, teenage me adored the sheer beauty you had to offer. How could she not?
I couldn’t know then how deeply you would shape me.
Years after our first encounter, I fell for a Corsican guy — outside Corsica, no less! Looking back, it feels like the first sign that my bond with you was meant to last. It’s funny to remember those early days. Because unlike you and me, it wasn’t love at first sight. Our relationship took time to grow into something romantic. And yet, from the moment we met, I felt that same magnetic pull toward him, inexplicable but undeniable. Call it the magical Corsican spell 😉.
As my relationship with him evolved, so did my relationship with you. I visited often, in different seasons, glimpsing new sides of you each time.
But I never stayed long enough for you to truly reveal yourself.
You don’t offer yourself up so easily, Corsica. And I think that’s exactly why I love you so much.
…to deep and lasting bond
Moving here changed everything between us. Perhaps you acknowledged my efforts to know you more deeply, now that I was here to stay. But you also made me work for your affection, challenging me to understand you on your own terms.
Oh, I don’t love everything about you. As an outsider myself, your love-hate relationship with France and with tourists still puzzles me. Your contradictions and laid-back attitude in so many areas often drive me crazy. And I’ll admit, I complain when parts of the island shut down for months in winter — especially when you also claim to want visitors outside of summer. Oh, Corsica, your contradictions are endless.
But layer by layer, I’m uncovering what you don’t reveal at first sight.
To love you is to listen. To learn. To surrender. There’s no point in trying to conquer you, to change you.
You are who you are — sometimes strong and strikingly beautiful, sometimes stubborn and reckless, sometimes vulnerable, letting your shadows and wounds show in plain sight.
Maybe this is the part of you that speaks to me the most.
Because the more I learn about your history, the more I talk with your people, the more I understand your long-standing struggles, the more compassion I feel.
When I stand in awe of your wild beauty, I understand why you fight so fiercely to protect it from over-tourism and massive urbanization.
When I read about all the people who have tried to claim you as their own, I get why you defend your identity so relentlessly.
When I long for quiet after the summer crowds fade and relish the stillness of your lesser-traveled places, I grasp why you aren’t trying that hard to bring more visitors in winter.
And trust me, I know how lucky I am to be among those who get to enjoy your hidden treasures all year long.
What I cherish most about you
I’ve already shared my love for the sea here. So naturally, I cherish your coastlines. Especially the wildest ones of the Cap Corse and the west coast, even though the cliffs of Bonifacio never fail to leave me in awe.
But I’ve come to realize something: whenever I’m by the sea, my gaze always drifts to the mountains in the background. Always that magnetic pull.
Your mountains remind me of a powerful guardian watching over the island. For anyone who has seen Moana, I picture them like Te Fiti — a goddess asleep, cradling the land in her form.
As if your mountains hold your deepest secrets, and to truly understand you, one must leave behind the easy beauty of the shore and venture into your rugged heart.
Not that you make it easy. Your winding roads — believe me, I know — aren’t for the faint-hearted, especially for those prone to car sickness. And hiking your peaks? The GR20 is one of the toughest trails in Europe. But for those who push through, the spectacular views you offer are reward enough.
Still, your beauty to me isn’t just in the grand, dramatic landscapes. It’s in the quiet, hidden moments, the things one only notices by paying close attention.
The roadside fountain, trickling with fresh mountain water.
Elderly voices trading stories on a village bench.
Ancient stone houses, steeped in history.
Old women whispering legends to anyone who will listen.
The sudden notes of a Corsican song rising from around a street corner.
A tiny statue, hidden in a weathered stone wall.
A fleeting glimpse of wildlife on a quiet mountain road.
The scent of ‘immortelle’, carried on the wind.
Men, young and old, spontaneously cupping their hands to their ears, breaking into song in perfect harmony in all sorts of gatherings.
The clouds, draping themselves over your peaks.
Hand-picked herbs from the ‘maquis’, infusing a dish with the taste of the land.
These are some of the details that make me love you more with each passing season.
These are some of the moments that turn an infatuation into something lasting.
These are the reasons you will always have my heart.
And since 2019, you have become even more a part of me. Because this land — your land — is also where my daughter was born.
If I hadn’t already given you my heart, that alone would have bound me to you forever.
N.B.: I included a few pictures to transport you to my world, but a single essay is not enough to show you all the things and places I love in Corsica. So if you’re interested in knowing more, don’t hesitate to subscribe to Sip of Corsica😉
Oh gosh I can see why you have such a deep love for this land… the beauty in your images and the poetic words she summons from you. I’ve never been to Corsica but I feel magnetised to her after reading this. Can’t wait to learn more and feel like I’m definitely meant to visit one day. It’s always the mountains for me too xxxx
Your writing and your photos are gorgeous! I especially like the description of winter there - the slow season of a place is always intriguing to me.