Corsica as my Guide to Contemplation
Traversing the narrow roads of Corsica is not for the faint of heart, but the reward lies behind every rounded corner, where vistas of ever-changing landscapes unfold. Trees, crooked and bent by the Mediterranean winds that envelop the island, frame the cracked asphalt leading me to small villages. Corsica feels different, unlike any other Mediterranean island I’ve visited—its people more introspective, soft-spoken, but hard-working. My conversations with islanders revealed a deep connection to the island’s interior, where wild boar and game roam free. They also feature prominently in many traditional recipes I savoured at the local eateries.
The Corsican men I spoke with seemed deeply tethered to the land and its bounty rather than the sea. They spend their days foresting, landscaping, shepherding, or hunting—far from urban centres or the island’s tourist buzz. This simplicity of life, this humility before the dramatic strokes and shifting moods of the mountainous landscape, the expansive green folds between villages—all of it gave me space. Along these winding roads, I discovered not only the hidden face of true Corsica but also the peace I had been instinctively longing for.
