It was an easy trip by train to Charleroi, bus to the airport (but of course, Belgium had to remind us why we were so keen on going: it rained about 3x before we got into the airport--once while waiting the 45 minutes for the bus) and then airplane ride over the Alps (see below) to the Mediterranean sea and the island of Corsica. Thank goodness for ipods, as this kept the parents' sanity during the many stages of waiting and tripping to the land of sun and sand!
Just over Corsica the pilot came over the PA to direct our attention out the left windows, as there were several forest fires to be seen in the distance...nothing like those I've seen on the net from BC, but still spectacular from the air--the boys were shocked to see this and worried for our safety, luckily they were only in the west of the island, near Ajaccio. While expressing his amazement at this sight, my older one exclaimed, "Mom, how hard is it to learn how to parachute? I'd like to be a pilot like Uncle Gus and jump out of planes...can I do that?"
Once we arrived (around 5.00 pm) we rented a car from Figari Airport to travel the 75 kms north and east to our campsite...We put on the AC, headed the car out of the parking lot and then plugged in the GPS. ...what a mistake! I don't know about you, but when I input directions for quickest road, I don't think that it should include a farmer's track through the scrub, goat pastures and olive trees...but I suppose all bets are off when using technology in a world where technology (and grading of dirt roads) seems to have escaped its clutches. As a result the car's front passenger side tire got a flat 9 km into our adventure and about 100 m from the main road. The horse here took our cursing in and was friendly enough to sample the boy's grapes that we purchased first thing for car food (to see MEZ changing a tire in 34 degree heat, go to his website, here).
That evening we got settled into our (im)mobile home (*as my oldest says, it can't be a MOBILE home, since it obviously does not move) that is part of the wooded and beached campus of D'Erba Rossa. M. got his cigars and scotch out, I got my book out and once the boys were settled into bed, we enjoyed listening to the cicadas and later the crickets on the front deck/dining space...lovely, we made it!
The next day, I was the first up at about 8.00 am and it was already 24 degrees and sunny. As I looked about, I could see that this was a more crowded area than I first thought. This is a community of 250 or so other "mobilhomes"(fr), bungalos, cabins, and personal tents and the like that all face the same way for privacy. We soon found out that one can see into the decks of other mobilhomes diagonally and across the driveway and over the bouginvilia hedges separating each living/parking space--tight but still private enough if you're not too social. No home is farther than 300 m from the beach and there's a community complex with laundry, gym, arcade, super marche, tobacconist/newspaper vendor, internet cafe, stage, bar, restaurant and incredibly large pool just before one reaches the sand. In addition, on the campus we eventually found the kids club, the mini golf, the ping-pong tables, volleyball and tennis courts and the wildlife sanctuary--this location indeed deserves its four-star rating.
The cabin (I'll call it, for lack of a better word, since I feel like I'm cottaging in Wasaga) is very pleasant and reminds me of the modest cottages that used to be in the bay before everyone with money bought them up and renovated or tore them down for mansions. Ours has two bedrooms (one with modest twin beds and overhead storage for the boys, the other with a double and a good sized closet) and a toilet separate from the shower and vanity, a simple kitchenette and a banquette seating/table that we later found out converts to another bed. The deck is partly covered and has a large table with six chairs. three hours settled and M. has already introduced us to Silvie and Erik, and their 14 year old son, A. They were gracious enough to usher us to the social area, since by the time we got unpacked and wanted to explore that first night, it was already dark. Their English was non-existant (common to most French we met) so our language skills were put to the test whenever we shopped, socialized or needed information the entire trip--not bad for M, but a brain-stretch for me!
We were amazed by the regular evenings' entertainment of singing, dancing and comedy routines--in multiple languages since we soon realized this is a fav spot of the Dutch and the Germans as well as the Brits and French! Here's a pic of one of the shows we watched during our stay (this happens to be a kiddie disco of sorts run by one of the animators, wearing pink jeans in front--for the entire trip, D. refused to join in, inspite of dancing on his chair and singing along from the audience!)
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