Day 6 - Olmetu to Porto-Pollo

Distance walked: 19km, Time taken: 6 hours, Ascent: 498m, Descent: 825m

Walking notes stats
Distance: 15km, Time: 4 1/2 hours, Ascent: 390m, Descent: 710m

Yes, today I got lost.

Breakfast was coffee and croissants.  The croissants were excellent, very crisp and buttery, but not very filling.  While I was having breakfast the taxi driver showed up to collect my bag.  He made a joke which I think was something about always too early or too late.  I dutifully laughed as he is going to be carrying my luggage for the rest of this hike so I want to keep on his good side.

I had breakfast in the courtyard of my hotel.  It was a pleasant sunny morning so I was just in a short sleeved shirt.  There was an elderly German couple at the next table.  They were wearing fleece jackets and had rugs over their knees.  How do they cope with a German winter, if they need to rug up that much when the temperature is above 20C?

After breakfast I set off.  My route instructions said "at the exit of the village take the road to Raja on 1.5km".  I interpreted this to mean walk down the road for 1.5km then take the road to Raja.  Unfortunately, it meant immediately on the exit to the village take the road to Raja (written in Corsican on the street sign as Ragha or something like that) and then walk for 1.5km.  After walking out of Olmetu on a nasty, narrow, windy road with no sign of a road to Raja (in any spelling) I headed back to Olmetu.  The whole side trip took about an hour.  Once back at Olmetu I met a man who had wished me a good trip when I first left.  He looked rather worried to see me again.  He clearly was concerned about this poor lost tourist attempting to travel on her own.  I did all right once I got onto the correct path, except for one other small detour.  Up in the hills it was hard to tell if a dirt track was a road or just someone's driveway.

I only met one other hiker today.  We passed once I was about 1 1/2 hours outside of Olmetu (once I was on the correct path).  He asked me how much further it was and I said about 2 hours.  He sneered and said "for you" and laughed.  He is the first rude person I've encountered - at least to my knowledge.  All my conversations have been in a combination of broken French (me) and French or broken English (them).

The walking for most of today was very pleasant.  Dirt tracks, rather than rocky scrambles, mainly through forests so it was shaded and cool.  The views were mostly very lovely, except for this one looking back to Propriano.  A cruise ship had docked.  It must have been a mad house in town with all those tourists let loose on a little place all at once.

The last bit of today's walk (about 4km) was just dull.  Once down from the hills, it was all level
walking, which is fine, but along roads, which is not.  Also, the only view was of fields full of cows.  Not much to write home about, particularly given how spectacular the views had been until now.  One good thing about the roads here (unlike those on the way out of Olmetu) was that they were wide enough that the traffic wasn't dangerous.  However, even though I knew intellectually that I was walking on the correct side of the road to be facing the traffic, I couldn't help but twitch when I could hear cars coming from behind me.  It was hard to believe they weren't going to run me down from behind.

My hotel here in Porto-Pollo is lovely.  I have a big room with a spacious bathroom  - and WiFi.  Below is the view from my window here, with the one from my Olmetu hotel below for comparison.   Which would you prefer?

Dinner was not provided by my hotel here.  However, they did strongly recommend a place in this town called A Pignata.  Agnes from Altipiani did too, but said reservations were strongly recommended.  I thought about asking the hotel to do it for me but decided just to chance it instead.  I'm glad I did because when I checked their menu I didn't like it at all.  They specialise in fish dishes and I do not.

Instead, I went to a place next door called L'Escale.  It had a lovely setting, on a verandah built out over the sand with views of the ocean.  Or at least it was lovely, until I realised I'd come out without putting on any insect repellent.  Luckily there must have been another diner who was tastier than me as I only ended up with three bites.

This restaurant seemed a little more downmarket with roughly made wooden tables and chairs and the cheap looking cotton tablecloths.  However, I think they were just after the rustic look, as the food was delicious and the cutlery was from Laguiole with the bees on the handles.  Also, all the food was made in house.  It is a law in France now that you have to say on the menu which dishes have been bought in pre-prepared. 

For entree I had the wild boar terrine.  Three big hunks of rich, tasty terrine with a side salad with a good, sharp dressing to cut the richness.  For main course I had ravioli stuffed with wild greens and the local brocciu cheese, served with a cream sauce.  For dessert I picked fiadone with clementine ice cream.  Google translate helpfully translated fiadone as fiadon.  It turns out it is a local Corsican baked cheesecake.  Good thing I'm not lactose intolerant.

This restaurant had not one, but four restaurant cats, including two terminally cute kittens.  They all ignored me.  I'm losing my touch.

Finally, here is the elevation chart for today.  The first dip and then the climb back to the same elevation was my unnecessary detour out of Olmetu.

Day 5 - Burgo to Olmetu

Distance walked: 11.6km, Time taken: 6 1/2 hours (including stops),
Ascent: 963m, Descent: 791m, Alcohol consumed: 1 glass red wine

Walking notes stats:
Distance: 15km, Time: 5 hours, Ascent: 780m, Descent: 610m

Breakfast was on the meagre side again.  Just bread or toast, jam and pureed fruit.  There may have been yoghurt as well as the tubs of fruit, but the tubs all looked the same to me.  No eggs or cheese or any other form of protein.  I guess they assume you get your daily allowance in one hit at dinner. I prefer to spread it out over the day.

I collected a picnic lunch and left my suitcase for transport, confident that these people at least seemed to understand the process.  My lunch consisted of bread and cheese, another tub of pureed fruit, a kiwifruit (all the way from NZ!) and a rice & tuna salad.  I figured that salad should probably not be kept unrefrigerated for too long, so I had that for my elevenses.

I took the walking easier today.  I have a better idea of how challenging the terrain will be and how long it will take to walk it, so I wasn't in a hurry.  This morning was a long climb, but I don't mind ascents.  You can take them as slowly as you like and they are actually easier than descents.  Descents are tough on the shins and quads.  Also, most of it was through woods so there was shade.  It was actually a pleasant morning.

Just past the peak, the route notes said to turn when you get to the Bocca di u Vint'unu which turned out to be this odd clearing with these odd cairns.  I didn't count but I guess there are 20 of them.  I wish I had WiFi so I could check what on earth these things were.

The next major milestone was the "forest destroyed house of Vera".  This turned out to be 2 or 3 abandoned stone houses plus an outbuilding in the middle of the forest.  I couldn't understand why they were here.  There wasn't anywhere to keep animals, except perhaps goats, and no flat land for growing any sort of crops.  Also the nearest water was a creek about 1km away.   What on earth  possessed people to build these solid stone houses out in the middle of nowhere?

After another short climb it was downhill all the rest of the way into Olmetu. The walking had been fairly easy until then, mostly dirt tracks.  Then came a  2km descent down what felt like the Corsican version of Hanging Rock.  It wasn't so much hiking down a path, as scrambling down rocks.  Not fun and I can see it would be dangerous in wet weather.

As I was scrambling down I met another hiker coming up.  He was carrying nothing - no pole, no map and not water.  He was obviously just out for a day walk but I can't imagine where he was going, unless it was to Vera.  I met half a dozen walkers yesterday, but this man was the only one today.  I'm not sure if this isn't a popular path or whether I'm just travelling out of season. 

As I was making good time I took a detour to the chapel of Saint Esprit.  That detour on the map is not me getting lost, I meant to do it.  The chapel is still a working church.  The door was locked but the key was hanging up on a nail so I went inside.  If you stand near the altar and peer through the
opening over the door at rocks in the scrub above Olmetu "to each one to see what he wants".  I just saw a rock in the scrub.  I have no imagination clearly.

Finally, I headed into Olmetu and this is where everything went pear-shaped.  When I got to my hotel - which has an attached restaurant - I couldn't find the door to the hotel and the restaurant was shut tight as it was around 4pm.  Too early for dinner and too late for lunch.  I eventually found the entrance to the hotel tucked away with a bell to ring.  I woke a grumpy woman from her siesta and she checked me in.  However, there was no sign of my suitcase and she seemed surprised that one should be there.

Phone calls were made to the Altipani office and messages left on answering machines and then I headed up to my room to wait and worry.  The best option was that my suitcase was on its way.  Next option was the taxi driver who was supposed to ferry it from place to place had forgotten.  Third option was that it had been stolen.  Luckily I had my passport and all my credit cards with me but basically all the rest was just what I needed for that day's hike. I did have the map for tomorrow on the back of today's map, plus they are all loaded on my GPS.  I had a copy of the route instructions and the list of  hotels I'm to stay at on Dropbox on my phone, but my phone charger was in my
suitcase, but I had enough charge to copy out one set of instructions.  I figured if worst came to the worst I could make it to tomorrow's destination, which is a bigger town than the village here, and buy phone chargers, extra batteries and a change of clothes and keep hiking.  When I finally get to Ajaccio, at the end of the hike, I could always buy yet another suitcase and more clothes.  Not ideal but do-able. 

I finally managed to get hold of Agnes at Altipiani and she promised to chase up what had happened.  My mobile phone bill is going to be horrendous.  In the meantime, I went to the local pharmacy and bought deodorant, a comb, a toothbrush and toothpaste.  I figured I could always use all that, even if my suitcase reappeared.  At least, I could have if I'd really bought toothpaste and not denture glue.  

In the end it turned out the taxi driver had forgotten.  After what I hope was a right bollocking from Agnes, he went to Burgo and fetched my suitcase.  It is a bit lowering to know he covered the distance in under an hour and I spent all day walking it.  On the plus side, that taxi driver is to do the suitcase transport for the rest of the trip.  I'm guessing he won't forget again.

Dinner wasn't served until 8pm.  I was starving hungry by then but at least I had time to shower and dress in clean clothes, even after the long wait to get my suitcase.

I got to select my meal from the 5 course traditional Corsican menu.  For entree I had soupe de Corse which turned out to be a vegetable and bean soup. It could have used more salt.  Next came a plate of charcuterie - very salty. For the main course I chose wild boar stew which came with a side dish of polenta and something fried up with onions.  I thought it might be mushrooms but suspected it could be some form of offal.  When I asked the waitress (who was the grumpy woman who checked me in) she prodded it doubtfully with my fork and said she didn't know.  She came back later and told me it was eggplant. Next came a big hunk of local cheese with fig jam. Finally there was dessert.  I could chose from fruit salad, strawberries or apple tart.  I had the tart, which was pieces of apple on a custard base.  The apple + base were fine but the pastry was a bit like cardboard.  All in all, not bad but I've had better.

In the restaurant were a couple with a little dog about Teddy's size.  He would beg for scraps, which he invariably got.  Whenever the waitress went past she would give him a pat.  Food safety standards people would have a fit, especially as later in the evening the restaurant cat, Minette, sauntered through.  She didn't pay me any attention sadly.

Here is the route map and elevation chart for today.

Day 4 - Ste Lucie to Burgo

Distance walked: 17km, Time Taken: 7 hours 13 minutes (including stops),
Ascent: 960m, Descent 1228m, Alcohol Consumed: 250ml beer, 250ml red wine

Walking notes stats
Distance: 20km, Time: 6 hours, Ascent: 675m, Descent: 945m

After my meagre breakfast I headed into the village (not included in the stats above) and had a second breakfast at the cafe - coffee and a croissant. I then bought myself some bread (a baguette), cheese, salami and an apple from the local store.  As I did this I realised I hadn't packed a knife so I would have to just tear them apart with my hands, caveman style.

On my way out of Ste Lucie I picked up a dog.  It was very friendly and didn't so much follow me, as escort me on my route.  It obviously knew the way and would go on ahead, always taking the right path.  It would wait for  me when I got too far behind.  It has clearly escorted other hikers before. 

Below is a picture of Ste Lucie from the hills above as I left it.  The scenery around here is gorgeous.

My guide dog ran off investigating something in the bushes and then chased some goats, but always came back so after about 2 hours of walking it was still  with me.  I was getting worried about how to get it to go home.  I eventually met a man fixing a fence.  I told him the dog wasn't mine and it had just followed me and asked how to make it go home (this was all done in French).  He first thought the dog was mine, then he said it had been abandoned and would follow anyone who would feed it.  I don't think he was right as the dog had a collar and tags and was clearly well fed.  Plus he originally thought it was mine so I doubt he recognised it. In any case, he told it to go home in stern voice.  Either the dog knew him or knew that tone of voice and headed back the way we had come.  I hope it had a home to go to.  This is a picture of my guide dog.  It is blurry as I couldn't make it stand still.

I could have used my guide dog on the next bit of the path as I came to a fork which was helpfully marked with a painted rock in the middle of the fork.  I had to guess whether this meant go right or left and, for a miracle, guessed correctly.  The waymarking has been pretty good, with the exception of that fork.  Mostly just splashes of orange paint, but enough of them that it is easy to keep on track.  Although, I can see you could get very lost, very easily if you didn't keep an eye out for them.

The hiking today wasn't as tough as I was expecting.  The uphill bits were just hard work.  Downhill was tricker as it is tough on the feet (your toes get squished up at the end of your boot) and it would be very easy to slip and hurt yourself.  I wouldn't want to be doing this hike if it was raining or had rained recently.  Some of the paths would be dangerously slippery if they got muddy. 

I tottered into my hotel here in Burgo at about 4pm, after having left Ste Lucie at 9am.  Not too bad.  Tomorrow is the distance is supposedly only 15km and the predicted duration only 5 hours.  I will take a longer break around midday rather than marching on in the hottest part of the day.  It has been beautiful weather here.  Mid to high 20s and clear skies.  I'm definitely getting all my daily requirement for vitamin D and then some.

My bag was waiting for me when I got here, which was a pleasant surprise. I was also expected, which was even better.  This place isn't so much a hotel as a hostel for hikers.  However, I get a room to myself with an ensuite bathroom.  There are also dormitories.   My bathroom was a real bathroom with a bath, rather than a shower which is all I've had until now. I washed myself Japanese style and then  had a good long soak in a hot bath to ease my tired muscles.

Dinner was available from 7pm until 7:30pm.  I went downstairs a little before and had a beer on their verandah admiring the beautiful veiw as the sun set.  I then beat a hasty retreat inside to annoint my ankles with inspect repellent before heading back down for dinner at 7:15pm.  There were four tables set up on the balcony, all facing the view down the valley to Propriano I think - a town on the coast in any case. There was a table for one for me, plus 2 tables for couples and another set up for 7.  The remaining guests didn't show up until between 7:30pm and 8pm.  I wonder if they were given a different mealtime to me.  All the other people were  sitting behind me so I couldn't see if they got served different food but at least one couple either ate very quickly or had fewer courses as they started after me and finished before me.

Here is the view from the verandah where we ate.  This is looking back to the hills rather than
down the valley to Propriano.

There were no menus, you seemed to just eat what was given.  My entree was a salad of lettuce, tomato, spanish onion, olives and cubes of a feta-like cheese, which I suspect was a local variety.  It was OK.  My main course was a huge piece of roast lamb with potatoes, this time roasted not boiled. It was big enough for two but I ate it all anyway.  Next was a local hard cheese with fig jam, which I beginning to really enjoy.  Dessert was a very satisfactory creme brulee.  All in all, very similar to my meal at the fancy 20123 restaurant but I suspect the cost was far less.

Then I tottered upstairs to bed as I was exhausted and just longing to lie down and stop moving.

Here is the track I walked and a matching elevation graph.

Day 3 - Ste Lucie de Tallano

Distance walked: perhaps 5km, Alcohol consumed: none,
Gelati: 2 scoops (Chocolate and blood orange)

I spent the morning puttering around Ajaccio some more as the bus to here didn't leave until 2:30pm.  There is only one per day.

As I was packing, there was a protest march down the street outside the hotel.  All young men with the headband that seems to be the symbol of the Corsician independence movement.  The banners were in Corsican, but read phonetically they were (or were close to) the Italian for "Justice or Violence".  Who or what they wanted justice for I have no idea.  The locals didn't seem to be paying a lot of attention.  There were a half dozen rather bored looking policemen blocking the road so the march could take place but the only other people looking were tourists taking photos.  I don't think they are going to get the "justice" they are after.

I arranged to leave my suitcase at the hotel until the afternoon in my very best French.  I'm getting better at it, although I still keep being impressed by all the clever people who can speak fluent French, before remembering that is because they are native French speakers.

I first headed off to find the gelateria that was rated as the best in Ajaccio.  Sadly it was shut so I settled for the one I'd been to yesterday (rated #4) as it was the only one I'd found.  After buying my gelati there I wandered down a street I hadn't visited before and found three more
gelateria!  I was still too full from last night to have some more.  I will sample them when I get back to Ajaccio after the hike.

There was a market in the main square.  Mostly cheese, charcuterie but some vegetables.  There was also a stall with tourist souvenirs, which  included the IGN hiking maps for the region.  I bought the ones that cover the area I'll be walking through.  Can never have too many maps.

I settled on a place called Chez Paulo as it had a very interestingsounding set menu of three courses of traditional dishes.  However, when it came to ordering I couldn't face all that food.  Also, the trip notes had mentioned that if you are prone to motion sickness, it would be a good idea to take something for it before catching the bus.  It didn't sound like a good idea to take that trip on a very full stomach. In the end I just had a salad Consigliere, which had tomatoes, bacon lardons, a poached egg and something that I translated as toasts with hot goat.  From the photo you can see my translation wasn't far off.

After lunch I picked up my suitcase and headed off to the bus station.  On the way, I helped myself to a few of the free plastic bags they provide for  picking up after your dog, just in case the bus trip made me queasy. I got there 45 minutes early in the end as I wanted to be sure I'd have time to get a ticket and find the place to catch the bus.  I didn't want to miss the only one of the day.  I wasn't the only worrier.  There was a man waiting when I arrived and a woman came soon after. 

At first we three were the only passengers but more people were picked up and dropped off along the way.  It was a very windy route through the  mountains.  In the end it took 2 1/2 hours to arrive at Ste Lucie.  We even passed through one of the villages I'll be stopping at on the way.  It was perched on the side of a mountain, which was a bit ominous.  On the plus side there was a clearly labelled sign post showing the route in (out?) of the village that I'll need to take.  Have I mentioned how hilly this
country is yet today?

Once I arrived in Ste Lucie my instructions were to call my host for the evening, as the B&B is a little way outside of the village.  This is the point where I was heartily glad I had a mobile phone and had spent time with Duolingo.  I had been told I could get someone from "the office of the bus" to call on my behalf but it was tightly closed, so I had to call myself. However, there was no answer so I left a voicemail message trying, in my best French, to explain who I was and where I was.

After about 20 minutes a woman called me back.  Her English was worse than my French but eventually I understood someone would be coming to get me.  I wasn't at all sure I was expected, but the man (her brother I think) who fetched me seemed to know what was going on.  It could have been a very awkward start to the holiday if he hadn't.

I'm not actually staying in the main house but instead in a separate two bedroom house on the property.  There seem to be other guests wandering around the property so I though I might not be the only person for dinner. However, I wasn't taken up the main house for dinner as I had thought
was going to happen.  Instead, dinner was brought to me, course by course, while I dined in solitary splendor.  First off was a zucchini soup which was surprisingly tasty.  Next was canneloni stuffed with spinach and the local cheese - brocciu, which is made from a mix of sheep and goat's milk.
Dessert was vanilla ice cream with Corsican cake pieces and caramel.  The cake was real cake this time, made with chestnut flour I suspect.

I was then asked if coffee and toast would be OK for breakfast tomorrow. I said yes, only to be brought a tray with a mug of coffee - already made - plus three pieces of bread, some butter and jam.  Apparently the brother is leaving early tomorrow (6am) and won't be able to supply me with
breakfast.  I asked how my suitcase was to be taken to the next location. This caused some consternation and a phone call (to the Altipiani office perhaps?).  In the end it was decided I would put my suitcase out on the door step before I got to bed tonight.  Not very convenient but can't be
helped.  I wonder if these people are new to being hosts for Altipiani.

Day 2 - Ajaccio

Distance walked: perhaps 8km, Alcohol consumed: 1/2 bottle red wine, Gelati: 2 scoops (tiramisu & pistacchio)

I only managed to stay awake until 8:30pm last night, but I slept through until 6am so that wasn't too bad.  Aside from some tiredness around 2pm today, which I dealt with with strong coffee, I feel OK.

In spite of my experiences yesterday, I braved the train out to Orly airport this morning.  I figured since I was going out of the city, rather than into it, it should be less crowded.  I was correct.  It wasn't as crowded.  It was standing room only, but I could stand upright and had at least 2cm of space all around me, so I was less inclined to thoughts of homicidal rage.  I'm still thinking of taking the airport bus out to Charles de Gaulle when I have to come home.  Perhaps the hassles of traffic aren't as bad as I fear.

After the dramas of yesterday with "minor incidents" and the subsequent delays, I left for the airport with plenty of time to spare.  This meant, of course, everything ran on time.  To kill some time I bought myself an overpriced lunch at a cafe at the airport.  I really should have practiced my French more before this holiday.  It deserts me whenever I need to use it.  The lunch menu gave you the choice of a roll, a pastry and a drink.  The roll and pastry were easy enough to order - I could just point.  The drink was tougher as the fridge full of them was behind the counter.  I ended getting water as it was the only thing I could remember how to say.  I had planned on getting orange juice - jus d'orange - why couldn't I remember that?!

 I flew here on Air Corsica.  It is definitely a budget airline.  I checked in online and when I got to the airport, not only did I print out my own board pass at a kiosk, I printed out my baggage tag as well.  You were required to put this on your suitcase, then put it on the belt and scan everything appropriately and off it went somewhere into the bowels of the airport.  I was pleasantly surprised to see it on the baggage collection carousel when I arrived here.

There were several dogs on the plane today.  Some in carry cases, but at least one just on a lead.  There were more dogs than babies, but the dogs were better behaved and made less noise.  There were dogs everywhere in Paris, including the cafes.  The streets were quite clean though, no worse than Melbourne's.

My first thoughts on getting off the plane here is that it is very beautiful and very hilly.  It is one thing to look at topographic maps and elevation charts, but quite another to see those self-same hills (mountains) with your own eyes.  This hike is going to be hard work.  I don't think I need to worry about the jet-lag causing me to wake in the middle of the night.  I think I'm going to be so knackered by the end of each day that I'll sleep like a log.

For dinner I went to an amazing restaurant called 20123 which, if I'm translating the French correctly, is set up to be the village in the city.  I ate inside but it was set up like you were sitting in a village square, with stars painted on the ceiling.  You had a jug on the table which you filled with water from the "village" lion's head fountain.

The food was rustic, traditional Corsican food.  It was a set menu of 5 courses and you generally got one or two choices for each course.  You also got your own loaf of bread to go with it all.  The portions were generous.  For wine you could choose red, rose or white and either a glass, 1/2 bottle or full bottle.  The house wine came from a winery that was either owned by or associated with the restaurant.  I'm not sure.

For the first course the choices were a plate of charcuterie or vegetable soup.  No points for guessing which one I chose.  There was a wild boar terrine, two sorts of salami and some proscuitto.  It was all tasty but a bit dry, as if it had been cut some time earlier.  The second course choices were zucchini stuffed with minced lamb or eggplant parmigiana - at least that is my interpretation of what I was told.  My waitress didn't speak English.  I opted for the eggplant dish, which had more cheese and tomato sauce and less eggplant than I would have used but good all the same.

For main the choices were something with lamb, something with veal and something with tripe.  The wild boar stew was not available today for reasons I didn't understand.  I opted for the something with lamb, which turned out to be a huge chunk of roast lamb with boiled potatoes.

It was tasty but way too much.  I noticed that the couple at the table next to me got this dish to share between them.  The next course was a hard cheese which came with a pot of fig jam.  I didn't get what sort of animal milk was used but the combinatiom of cheese and jam was surprisingly good.   For dessert the choices were house made vanilla ice with hot cream (my translation) or Corsican gateau.  I opted for the gateau which turned out to be a sweet omelette flavoured with aniseed and topped with a caramel sauce.  It came with a scoop of the vanilla ice cream - complete with flecks of vanilla seeds.  It wasn't what I expected but was an interesting taste let's say.

After all this food and drink I reeled back to my hotel and so to bed.  It was slightly odd walk back.   My hotel is on the main street and earlier in the evening it had been full of people and cars.  I was worried the traffic noise would keep me awake.  However, by 10pm all the shops (cafes, clothes shops and jewellers) were shut and there were very few people and cars.  It was a little unsettling walking into the hotel as the front door was still open and the reception desk is actually in a shop front two doors up.  There was nothing to stop anyone from walking into the building.  In fact, the hotel only uses half of the rooms/flats in this building.  I think the others are private homes or offices.

Day 1 - Paris

Distance walked: somewhere between 12km and 15km (estimated from time spent walking),Alcohol consumed: 250ml house red

The flight was uneventful, which is how I like them.  Although I did watch the last 4 episodes of last year's Great British Bake Off.  I hadn't bothered watching it at the time, since it had moved to a commercial channel.  It wasn't as bad as I had expected and I'm now inspired to start baking again.  Perhaps not a good choice of inflight entertainment.

While the flight may have been harmless, arriving in Paris - not so much.  We arrived at Terminal 1 at Charles de Gaulle airport.  It felt like we had landed at some regional airport that wasn't set up for handling large numbers of passengers, rather than an international airport.  The lines for passport control were more of a mob than distinct lines.   Harried staff kept trying to get us to stand in the right place so the EU and non-EU folk wouldn't get mixed up.

Once through passport control I went looking for my suitcase.  I waited and waited but there was no sign of it on the carousel.  I was beginning to panic but decided to go for a walk around the whole thing before heading off to report my bag as missing.  I discovered that it had been "helpfully" taken off the carousel already and stacked up to one side while I was still queuing at passport control.  All the priority tagged luggage had been handled this way.  It would have been nice to know beforehand.

Next I headed for the automatic train that shuttles people between terminals as the train to downtown Paris leaves from Terminal 3.  There was one train at the station and it was crammed full of people.  The rest of us just milled around on the platform.  After half an hour the train left.  There had been a "minor incident" somewhere else apparently.  After another 10 minutes another train showed up and those of us with heavy feet and sharp elbows piled on.  We left most of the passengers behind and the poor folk at the intermediate stops didn't stand a chance of getting on.

Once at Terminal 3, half the ticket machines for the train were out of order so there were big queues (are you sensing a theme yet?).  However, a train arrived fairly promptly and we all piled on.  However, there had been an incident (another?) and planned works on the line so there were crowds of people waiting to get on at the next stops.  They could see gaps between the people already on the train but didn't realise that was where people's suitcases were stacked.  They kept trying to force their way onto the train.  It was so packed, even a Japanese person would have found it crowded.  I couldn't stand upright but was bent awkwardly over my suitcase.  I was surprised it didn't turn violent.  I was getting sorely tempted to thump someone, if only I could have moved my arms.

I finally got to the station in Montparnasse near my hotel.  After getting off the train and starting to walk to my hotel I discovered one of the wheels on my suitcase was half torn off.  I got to my hotel (Hotel Delambre) 3 1/2 hours after we landed.  It was before check in time but my room was (almost) ready so I was given a key straight away.  On getting to my room I saw that the chambermaid wasn't finished making it up yet.  She still needed to make the bed.  I found her in another room on the same floor.  She spoke no English but I was able to understand that she would come and finish it up.  My French was sufficiently good that I was able to ask her if she was going to do it soon because I wanted to take a shower.  However, it wasn't good enough to understand her answer.  The desk clerk had to translate for us.

After cleaning up I headed out to buy a new suitcase at a little shop near the hotel.  My hotel is in the 14th arrondissement, so not the inner ring of districts but the next set outside.   Still within 2 metro stops (or about a 20 minute) walk from the main tourist sites (and handy for Orly airport) but not as touristy.  Plenty of cafes and bistros and cheaper hotels but also shops and apartment buildings full of locals.  The suitcase shop was run by a little Asian (Vietnamese?) lady.  She spoke no English but I was able to manage there because I could just speak in phrases - "trop grand", "trop petit", "autre couleurs?" and "parfait", so my shopping expedition was a success.

After dropping off my  new suitcase I headed out for lunch.  Even though I had had 4 meals on the plane I was still hungry.  I randomly chose a classic looking French bistro called Brasserie Mont on the Boulevard Raspail.  I had the menu du jour.  For entree this was a salad topped with fried chicken livers.  The chicken livers were very good, nicely brown and tasty on the outside but not over-cooked so they were still creamy on the the inside.  The salad was just lettuce with a totally tasteless dressing.  Main was a fillet of veal in a mushroom sauce with potatoes daupinoise and more salad with tasteless dressing.  With the exception of the salad, this was very good.  I just drank water with the meal (too tired to risk wine) but finished with a decent espresso.

After lunch I just went wandering around.  I had planned on visiting the Catacombs as these were nearby.  However, they were closed for renovations.  Exactly how you renovate 2000 year old catacombs is not clear.  Stack the bones more tidily perhaps?  I wandered down to the Seine and along the banks for a bit before heading back to Montparnasse.  I visited the Montparnasse Cemetery.   All sorts of famous people are buried here (List of burials at Montparnasse Cemetery) but I'm a philistine and only visited Poincare's grave.  Although from looking at that Wikipedia list there were more mathematicians and scientists there than were mentioned on the sign at the cemetery.

When I headed out to dinner, my first thought was totry Pizza Odessa because Ukrainian pizza sounds interesting.  However, I then realised it was called that just because it was on Odessa street, so not so interesting.  Instead, I chose at random one of the five creperies on Odessa Street - the Manoir Breton.  I had the Galette du Manoir, which was filled with goat's cheese, bacon, spinach and fresh tomato.  The galette was thin and crispy and the filling was tasty, but not evenly spread over the galette.  I also had 250ml of the house red in a little jug.  The jug was cute, the wine forgettable.

Now I'm back at the hotel desperately trying to stay awake for another hour.  I hate arriving in the morning.  Forcing yourself to stay awake until a reasonable bedtime is just so unpleasant.

Day 0 - Melbourne

Distance walked: not a lot, Alcohol consumed: not a lot

but then I'm still in the Singapore Airlines lounge at Melbourne airport, so plenty of time yet.

I'm off to hike the Mare e Monti Sud in Corsica.   I'm actually starting at Sainte Lucie de Tallano (bottom right corner) as the official start point of Burgo is too small to be served by public transport.  In fact, it is so small it isn't even marked on this map.

After Corsica, the next stops are Marseille, Aix-en-Provence, Arles, Lyon, Dijon and finally Paris.  I'm taking a cooking class or going on a food tour in each town.  I fully expect to come home at least 5kg heavier.  I'll be disappointed if I don't reach my goal.

Edited 25-Sep-2018: In the end I drank 1 gin & tonic and 3 glasses of red wine on the plane.  The G&T was with Bombay Sapphire Gin - not my favorite so I only had the one.  The red wine was a French cabernet-sauvignon-merlot blend.  Would have probably preferred the McLaren Vale shiraz but felt I should have the French wine.