This spring, a lucky chance brings me back to Corsica, an island I only remember through my memories as a kid. A turbulent sail through the Strait of Boniface took me to the discovery of a land of bright blues and greens with exotic French flair. Savoring warm, lightly salted croissants I look at the ports disappearing in the distance. The vivid memories of my second time in Corsica blend with older more blurry memories.The echo of Pigna’s perpetual symphony, a mix of bitter, sweet, ripe and sour notes; a picture perfect paradise of white sand and blue water (Saleccia beach); the slow and reassuring rhythm of pastoral life in the valleys around Cortes and the majestic and colorful nature of the South. The scent of the wild and tame maquis; the black stones of Alisu beach; the horses and poppies of Cap Corse; enveloping forests. The taste of honey, chestnut and brocciu; the sound of waves and the memory of sunny, scented, relaxing and adventurous days.
There are crystals of island within me, coming back.
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