Corsica 2013

Between March 28th and April 6th, I went on a kayaking trip to Corsica, the land of meat, knives and Pietra with Stu Sheath, Jonny King, Max Emery and Duncan Sinclair of Pro-Crastinate and Dave Underhill of MadeAlmostEntirleyOutOfSteel. This blog is a recap of some of the memorable moments and anecdotes of the week:

Dave gagging for sausage

An inviting window shop

A balanced shopping basket with everything the body needs

The Journey Down

When I was booking the ferries, I put Dave, Jonny and myself in one van, with Stu, Duncan and Max in the other. Dave took the stint to Dover on the Thursday, making the ferry with no time to spare. Even a Gastrotrich would consider the time we had left ourselves minuscule.

Driving through the night in France wasn't the most pleasant, and when Jonny King took the drivers seat Dave and I were biting our nails with fear (but I will come to Jonny's driving later on). The Friday afternoon was spent in a sunny Toulon having beers and food before catching the ferry to Corsica.

Dave chilling in the sea in Toulon

Myself getting some cold feet

The Corsican Ferry

Much like the French way of driving, which is fairly manic and to any Brit seems dangerous, the way the French and Corsicans loaded the Corsica Ferry was extravagant. The initial cue seemed orderly, but once the first car was told to move it was a free for all; law and order were now out of the equation. Unfortunately the bravest drivers won this apparent race and as I was driving at the time, we weren't moving very quickly; my English reserve meant I hadn't the bottle to just pull forward in front of moving articulated trucks.

Eventually we made it onto the Ferry and went to find seats, waiting till it was acceptable to put out our carry mats and go to sleep. Due to the budget we were working on, we hadn't hired a cabin or recliner seats. However this was common, as everyone was finding a nook or cranny to set up for the 10 hour ferry. On the outward ferry to Corsica I slept under the stars, which was brilliant until about 0300 in the morning when the gales woke me up. With my head in the sleeping bag I didn’t know what was happening and just kept tucked up hoping that I wouldn’t be blown into the sea. Somehow I managed to fall back asleep, only to wake up in the rain about 2 hours later. So inside I popped for the hour left of the journey. I had learnt my moist lesson on the return ferry and stayed inside for the night where we sailed home without issue.

The people we met

As we were staying on the campsite used during the Kayak Session festival, there were many kayakers around. There also happened to be a marquee set up were we spent a couple evenings drinking and chilling out.

Our little area of the campsite

The first evening spent at the campsite we inhabited the marquee, where we proceeded to get rather tipsy. However it was here that we met a couple who had already been out for a week. Over many many beers and a few games of cards we became first name acquaintances  In the drunken stupor we convinced them that boating with us would be the best part of their holiday, and we arranged a play date for the following day.

What we hadn't realised was that Jo was GB slalom and a wicked boater, and Jen worked and paddled for Peak UK and was also bloody awesome. I must have been overselling us the evening before to get them to boat with us. That, or they were fairly desperate to prolong their exposure to my endless charm and good looks; and in reality we are bitching boaters, so overselling our skills is a hard thing to do ;-)

Jo and Jen teaching me how to be awesome. Oh wait, I'm already awesome!

We later met another pair of boaters, both of whom were Irish. This time we made sure to work out their paddling standard before talking them boating with us (or as before them taking us boating). Once again the pair comprised of an International slalom paddler! So as before, we span our linguistic magic and convinced them to boat with us.

Matt - the Irish's Slalom hopeful

Me showing Ronan that the Warrior shouldn't be messed with

The Rivers

With an exceptionally high season in Corsica when we were out, we paddled rivers ranging from grade 3 to 5. We also racked up a fair few km of walking during the holiday too.

The river of note was the Asco, which was our second river and we did with Jo and Jen. Jo's super silky skills got us to the bottom of a tasty river which gave lots of hard sections. One of which was styled by Jo and Dave, only to be messed up by yours truely! Absolutely submerging my boat, I didn’t really know what was going on. When I realised things were going wrong, I closed my eyes, lent back and thought of England (a trick I have picked up from previous girlfriends). I felt the boat hit the bottom of the river, fly back into the sky and land. It was like being back at Chessington World of Adventures, but I didn’t have to cue all bloody day for the ride.

Dave's styled line

Jo's styled line

My interesting non-conformative line 

This run finished with a longer than expected paddle out. In fact we eventually crossed a campsite that we drove past trying to find the take out. Being sure this campsite was nowhere near the take out, this only meant one thing; we were lost. Getting off of the river, Joe managed to hitch a lift back up toward the top in search of the car. With a long time passing we assumed that we had messed up big time, only to see Joe’s athletic body running back down the road. It seemed that we parked on the incorrect river, so Joe and I started to run downstream. Joe had removed his top at this point, so I decided that keeping mine on was best for the safety of any passing ladies, disregarding the potential danger of over-heating, as the sight of two ripped up bodies running in the sun could induce a heart attack in any woman. Only about 2 minutes down the road however, we found the lay-by that the car was parked, apparently another minute on the river would have had us at our take out!

One of the harder rivers we paddled was the Upper Fuim Orbo, which contained boating from grade 3+ right up to grade 5. This was the river I took my swim. After the 'Rocket' rapid there was a little bend round a corner into a drop. Stu had inspected this and told everyone about the bend turning into a mini Boof on a ft or so drop. Going round the corner I hit the wall and tried to push off with my hand, sending myself over in a self-binning motion. Grabbing my paddle for the roll I suddenly felt myself drop about 6ft, and was sure I had been sucked under something. Instantaneously pulling my spraydeck, I popped out of my boat to see an 8ft drop (Apparently the 7-8ft drop I ran upside down looked only 2ft when Stu saw it). I'm not gonna lie, when I realised I was in a pool I was a lot happier, but my larynx hadn't realised this when I called out to Dave in the most high pitched voice my body could produce.

Myself in the bottom pool out of my boat

The lads helped me get my boat and we ran round the next portage. This river also saw Dave, Stu and Duncan swim on a slot section later on, which Max and Jonny walked. Stu's was the worst here as he was in the stopper of a good 30 seconds.

Dave on his tod - not good!

Stu's view before he gets sucked back in the stopper with his boat

With 4 swims and not many hours left of light we made sure we were safe for the rest of the river, portaging a fair amount.

Another corker was the Lower Travo, which was our last day and we did with Ronan and Matt. This was really pleasant grade 3-4 boating, without any need to portage. This provided a sweet end to the holiday and gave everyone a cracking day.

Jonny King

Now for the tales of Jonny King!

Jonny re-started a game he played last time he was in the Alps, where if you see a Renault Twingo you can hit the other person. However the way he started this was by spotting a parked one at the supermarket and hitting me on the arm shouting Twingo. Immediately understanding the game (as I have played it with VW beetles before) I turn and smack him back on the arm saying Twingo. Looking so confused and with puppy dog eyes, he said is his most feminine of voices; 'But I already got you? No Backsies'. To which I replied; 'There's two parked there Jonny, one right next to the other'. This then put Jonny on Twingo watch for the rest of the trip and the rest of us calling 'No Backsies' on everything we did!

As promised I shall now detail the level of driving ability Jonny displayed during the holiday. The most time Jonny was allowed to drive was on the way down and the way back, and one event springs to mind when the Sat-Nav suction cup fell from the windscreen. Jonny looked at it, and started to re-attached it. However this strayed his eyes from the road, and also started the Van straying from its lane. Dave and I both shout and get Jonny back on driving duty as I sort the Sat-Nav situation. Jonny's justification was, 'I can't really do two things at once' - not really breaking news to be honest Jonny. 

Another good quote from Jonny was during motorway driving in France, when Dave and I were both awake. We both noticed how Jonny tends to spend a lot of time with the Van wheels running on the hard shoulder or with the other van wheels running on the lines in the middle of the road. I knew Dave had noticed, because every now and then we would look longingly into each others eyes with fear. Onlookers would have perceived this to be a longing look of affection, but I can assure you it was not. The reason I can assure this is because neither one of us could see the other, as our lives were swiftly flashing before our eyes in the many moments we thought we were going to crash and die.
One way I had of coping with this was to close my eyes; but much like pulling the covers over your eyes won't stop the monster under the bed eating you, closing my eyes wouldn't have stopped the van cascading off of the road killing us all - But by f**k did it help me get through the days!

Later confronting Jonny on the issue, he said he knew that he did it and said he had two driving styles; 'In the UK I either drive really aggressively with the car running in the middle of the road, or not as aggressively and drive with the car virtually off of the road.' Both Dave and I looked at one another again, questioning if this was a 'style' of driving. I proceeded to ask Jonny to drive in-between his 'usual styles' hoping this would mean that the centre of the van stayed in the centre of the lane.

The other main event was on a drive to the upper Travo, which comprised of a long mountain road. Now I'm not good with heights, and with Jonny's constant swerving from one side of the road to the other, my nerves were running fairly high. Nearing the top of the road, there was a monster pot-hole on our left. Praying Jonny wouldn't try to avoid it so much we fall off of the side of the cliff, he carried on at pace toward it. I now think I hope we don't fall down this pot-hole, and with Dave on my outside clearly thinking the same thing (who at this point is leaning so hard into my side I thought he may dislocate my shoulder) we skirt this chasm in the ground with millimetres to spare.

The Conclusion
The week was absolutley quality, and with only 2 nights of rain splitting 8 days of sunshine it couldn't be beaten. One great trip that will be repeated in the near future.

The team (Left to Right) - Jonny, Duncan, Dave, Max, Rob, Stu