Serenity Special Offers

30 September 2006 - The Independent - Mary Novakovich

The best way to enjoy Calvi is to stay in its lofty citadel. Mary Novakovich takes a step back in time in Corsica

In some ways, it's hard not to empathise with Horatio Nelson when he turned his back on Corsica, and on the northern port of Calvi in particular. After all, it's where he famously lost the sight of one eye in a battle against the French and vowed he never wanted to see the place again. However, things have moved on a bit since 1794, and it's unlikely that a modern-day visitor to this medieval fortress on Corsica's north-west coast would be inclined to agree with him - even if first impressions are less than thrilling.

The 7km drive from Calvi's airport is rather soulless with a standard procession of holiday residences, campsites, supermarkets and shops selling tourist tat. But spirits lift as soon as you clap eyes on Calvi's citadel, which looms majestically over the busy port with its quayside restaurants and bars. The tourists who stay in the residences and campsites surrounding the town inevitably spend part of their stay trudging up and down the steep cobblestone passages and poking round the narrow alleyways of the 13th-century fortress. A lucky few (myself included) are able to stay in the limited number of flats available within the citadel itself, and get a brief yet profound taste of local life.

The entrance to the citadel is marked by a stone archway etched with the town's motto, Civitas Calvis Semper Fidelis. It was created by the Genoese (Corsica was once part of the Genoese Republic) in the 13th century, who guaranteed the townspeople's loyalty by giving them tax breaks. Your own loyalty quickly becomes tested when you discover the reality of staying in a place that is so picturesque yet so physically demanding. Apparently the local hospital periodically gets fed up with treating numerous tourists who injure their ankles on the cobblestones and demands that the paths be concreted over. This the council duly does until conservation groups demand the return of the cobblestones and the concrete is ripped out. And the cycle starts again. There's only one answer: wear sturdy shoes.

The road winds its way upwards until it reaches the 13th-century Cathédrale St-Jean-Baptiste. It was built in the plain Genoese style and isn't wearing its age particularly well, thanks to bombardments from various enemies (including the English) over the centuries. It sits beside a tiny square, the piazza d'Armes, which in turn looks over a pile of bricks said to be the birthplace of Christopher Columbus. The claim is as flimsy as all the other supposed birthplaces of Columbus, but it's taken seriously in Calvi, where his birthday in October is a great excuse for another public holiday.

Our spacious, three-bedroom flat was built in 1794 and renovated exactly 200 years later by someone who thoughtfully kept the vaulted ceilings intact. The building sits on the side of the citadel that faces the port, the sweeping 4km beach and the spectacular mountains just beyond. Apartment Mamie is on the ground floor, but the back of it, which has the lovely view and a balcony from which to enjoy it, is higher up. For once there was no choice to be made between a sea view and a mountain view. Here you got both. Just below is Chez Tao, a piano bar founded by a Russian refugee in the 1920s and immortalised in Dorothy Carrington's book Granite Island. It's housed in a 16th-century former bishop's palace, and its biggest selling point is its terrace with glorious views of the sea. Apartment Mamie has the same view and doesn't charge €12 for a cocktail. A summer evening isn't complete without a nightcap on the balcony, catching the breeze coming up over the sea, listening to the music drifting out of the piano bar and watching the well-heeled clientele trip their way in.

Calvi's lower town is where the real action is, however. The Quai Landry is one long stretch of bars and restaurants - from the citadel side, where there is also a medieval salt tower, to the edge of the port. Some are incredibly expensive (Emile's, for example), while others are cheap, cheerful and do great pizzas (Le Nautic and Le Comme Chez Soi). All benefit from the floorshow provided by other people, and by the outrageous displays of wealth in the marina. One-upmanship is an expensive business here as huge yachts, each more enormous than the next, vie for attention.

Behind the quayside are numerous sets of steps leading up to the delightful and wonderfully chaotic rue Clémenceau, a pedestrianised street thronging with people strolling by the shops and restaurants. Certainly many of the shops are tourist traps, but there are some fine ones too, including an upmarket deli full of Corsican delicacies. This is as good a place as any to dive into the joys of Corsican food, which surprisingly, considering it's an island, doesn't rely heavily on fish.

In fact, the seafood can be a bit disappointing if you were expecting (as I was) plates of simply grilled fish. Instead I got what the menu assured me was sea bass but my eyes and taste buds told me was cod - and in a lurid citron sauce. An honourable exception was a tiny restaurant just below our flat, A Candella, where the swordfish was perfect. And Le Nautic does an especially good octopus salad.

Corsican cuisine tends to turn inwards towards its rugged mountainous interior, which is covered with luscious maquis herbs - wild rosemary, myrtle, fennel - that infuse so much of the food. And chestnut forests abound too, adding another distinctive taste to the mix. Wild boar is a favourite, and the charcuterie is sublime. The cheeses, too, whether from goat, ewe or cow, are rich in flavour.

Click on online link to read remainder of article