There is a moment in your life when you start reminding yourself of your dad. For me that happened earlier this month while I was editing Edita’s videos of myself trekking the GR20 across Corsica. It wasn’t a agreeable realisation.
I should point out that I don’t have anything against my father. He’s an entertaining, amiable chap. He just happens to be 83 years old. I hadn’t previously been aware of looking like a wizened old man as I walk, and nor has Edita ever pointed it out to me.
I had another surprise as I went through the footage. I look back upon the last three days of the GR20 with fondness; I believe I quite enjoyed them. The evidence of Edita’s videos tells a different story. I see an exhausted, grumpy old crock scrambling up boulders like a frustrated tortoise; someone who would rather be anywhere, watching Southampton even, than carrying a large backpack up a steep slope beneath the sweltering sun while his wife points a camera at him.
In fairness to the old curmudgeon in the videos (who cannot possibly be me), there were extenuating circumstances. He had over-indulged in good food and red wine at Castel Di Vergio, a rare hotel stop, and suffered on the trail the following day. This illness lasted for three days, so was something more than just a hangover. Those last three days featured some of the roughest terrain in Christendom, up and over jagged boulders; scrambling that was often relentless, lasting for hours on end with no easy breaks.
On the final day, the old man slipped and fell on a greasy slab (not caught on camera by Edita, thank god). He was left dangling above a gorge with a single hand on a chain like the man in Banksy’s mural The Well Hung Lover (though happily with his clothes still on). This little accident caused him to finish the trek with a cracked rib. Bear these things in mind as you watch him and laugh.
A few weeks ago I posted the first two videos, covering the much easier southern half of the GR20. In that post, I made a joke about the guidebook writer Paddy Dillon’s dramatic descriptions of the trail, which make it sound like the most dangerous thing you can ever do — the sort of activity that would give Alex Honnold goose bumps. In particular, I scoffed at his recollection of seeing trekkers ‘rooted to the spot, crying tears of fear’. I ended by saying that I ‘hadn’t found the GR20 too bad’.
I now feel like a bit of an idiot.
Anyway, enough of my preamble. If you like watching someone suffer then you’re going to love these. There are two videos covering the northern section, with 32 minutes of footage in total.
You can watch the whole thing in one go here. You can also see all my still photos from the trip here, and read the full trip report here.
1 The GR20 North from Vizzavona to Castel di Vergio
From the peace and luxury of Vizzavona, we scrambled up rough terrain for nearly 1,000m to the pass of Bocca Muratello, beneath the peak of Monte d’Oro. From there we descended another 800m to our campsite at Bergerie de l’Onda.
On the second day, we took the high trail over peaks and ridges to the second campsite at Pietra Piana. The trail was dry and dusty with more scrambling, and the peaks were so laden with sheep droppings that it was hard to find an odour-free spot to stop and have lunch.
The trail was busy on the third day, as we passed a huge group of soldiers out on a training hike. Again, the trail was rough and boulder-strewn as it crossed high terrain over some unlikely passes. At one point a section of chain caused a traffic jam, but we were able to scramble up a chimney to the left.
An overnight storm at Refuge Manganu meant that we awoke to rain and the first cloudy weather of the trek. But it was an easier day across a high plateau and down through forest to the relative comfort of Castel di Vergio.
2 The GR20 North from Castel di Vergio to Bonifatu
From Castel di Vergio, the trail contoured a forested bowl and climbed into the hidden sanctuary of the wide Golu Valley, with the dramatic rock citadels of Tafunatu and Paglia d’Orba rising above. The trail rose again to contour around the upper reaches of the valley and cross a pass into a more constricted, steeper valley. Here we descended jagged slabs to enter forest and reach an elevated campsite at Bergerie de Ballone.
The penultimate day of the trek was the toughest and highest of the GR20, on some of the roughest terrain. We scrambled up hundreds of metres on rough slabs, then ascended uneven scree across two high passes, Bocca Crucetta and Pointes des Eboulis (the latter being the highest point of the GR20 at 2,607m). The path then descended eroded scree into a deep gorge, which we traversed high above its base on smooth slabs. The day was remorselessly hot, but we had brief respite on a trail through forest to reach our hotel at Haut Asco.
We had enjoyed beautiful weather for almost the entire trek, but the heavens opened on the final day as we were descending the infamous Spasimata Slabs, on sloping rocks that threatened to cast us into the abyss.
These were the toughest three days of the GR20. I was suffering from an illness and the scrambling was steep and relentless. On the final day I fell and cracked a rib, and only survived a longer tumble by keeping my hand on a chain. It was a blessed relief to reach the haven of Bonifatu.
