With sweeping views of the Tyrrheanian Sea and a descent of nearly 1,000m, the ride to Porto-Vecchio rewards at every turn. Following the signs to the Citadel, I find the bustling tourist office inquiring about budget accomodations and beach activities. Forewarned, I booked a hotel room a day in advance. I knew before I viewed, however, that it would not meet my highly unscientific, unmathematical 'price to value' principle. Somewhat akin to Chancellor Brown's formula for the UK-Euro conversion -- noone may understand the formula, but it makes sense to me. Principles aside, low budget options are slim to none. Tossing my bags into the dirtier than usual hotel room, I throw on appropriate swimming attire and set off for Plage de Palombaggia and Santa Guillia (i.e. the beach). Postcards of Corsica's two most famous beaches teased me from the day I landed on the opposite coast. After a week in the interior, I was ready for a soak.
Although I am one, there's something about tourists that send me running the other way. Take me to a tourist attraction (vs. activity) and I break out in hives; put me on a tourist bus, and I go into seizures. As an independent cyclist for over 5 months now, I've somehow convinced myself that I am a traveler first and tourist, a distant second. A rash appeared upon my approach to the Palombaggio beach parking lot. Admittedly, it was postcard perfect with velvety white sand and turquoise water. Admittedly, I enjoyed the swim. Admittedly, I even took a few photos. Regretablly, there were too many tourists and I raced back to the village bus terminal to plan my next day's escape..
The live concert that night outside my hotel window entertained tourists until the morning street sweepers arrived. I took the opportunity to cull through my increasingly swelling panniers. In the dim of the early morning hours, perspiration still dripping from my pores, it struck me -- I am a bag lady. The only true distinction being the number of wheels on our carts. I'm not referring to the 2 panniers serving as the frame to my house on wheels. No. I'm referring to the 19 other bags of various sizes and fabrics that help me organize, compartmentalize my precious few belongings: 9 ziplocs for clothes and pharmaceuticals, 2 Eagle Creeks for make-up and toiletries, 1 backpack for books and food, Patagonia fanny pack for my valuables, handlebar bag for maps and pens, seat bag for spares and tools, 2 grocery bags for miscellaneous electrical supplies, camera bag and, by all means, the Glad lawn and leaf bag -- just in case. Tomorrow, this bag lady is off to Porto Pollo!
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