who'da thunk . . .

how gorgeous Corscia would be? First stop Bonifacio. Perfect weather. Perfect spot. But you already knew that if you saw the teaser photo I had posted earlier. Jaw dropping! We first saw the exotic limestone cliffs: too awesome for words especially if you're from a part of the world where the highest point is a bridge over the inter-coastal.



The 9TS, Katie and I took the tender to shore and wandered to the start of the Monte St-Roch steps, taking us from New Town to Old Town. Huffing and puffing we made our way up the stairs, layer by layer until we reached the apex and saw this:



and this:



and a little of this:



and maybe some of that:



wowsers!



It reminded me of the caldera at Oia, Greece. Sheer drops to a bay below. We meandered through Old Town and back to the top of the stairs. Katie wanted to take the other ridge path to see where it led, while the 9TS and I wanted to explore New Town. We agreed to meet at the bottom of the steps in 45 minutes.

A glass of wine on the ship was quite expensive at $11.00 per glass and since they had no rules against bringing your own aboard for in-room consumption, I was on the hunt. While normally most coastal towns boast five or six wine establishments, Bonifacio was sorely lacking in that department. I finally spied a few bottles from the small front window of a tiny local butcher shop. The 9TS and I decided to investigate. Their 'house' red was a mere 4.5 euros. Hummm, something did not compute, nor did the owner speak English. A few failed hand signals and we decided to return with Katie in tow. Unfortunately, her high school French did not include asking if a 4.5 euro bottle of wine was for consumption or cooking. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and we left with said bottle tucked securely under the 9TS's arm.

Thinking we'd continue last year's tradition of a local beer in every port, we stopped at a bay side cafe and placed our order. As it seems, one is not allowed to just order a libation, one had to order a meal as well. Huh? The owner was less than cordial as the waitress explained we had not understood the rules and we were allowed to drink under his scowling visage. Another couple from the boat went to sit and the owner asserted himself in broken English. They were as floored as we and tried to convince him to relent since there were plenty of vacant tables. He was not to be appeased. They were turned away and we slurped and ran.

After lunch on the boat, the 9TS and I headed to the pool deck for a little lounging and R&R. Slowly the temperature dropped and before we left, we were buried under beach towels, starting to chatter. Something was definitely happening to our beautiful weather.

. . . it must be added that later that night, the 9TS popped the cork and we, meaning I, thoroughly enjoyed the butcher's home brew!