Corsica Part 1: the ridiculous travel story

Here we are in Corsica - in fact, we are on our last few days.  There is, of course, much to blog about, so I'll just start with the first few days.

So, let's start at the beginning.  Months ago, Clark got accepted to do this special workshop for PhDs and Post Docs doing work in internal waves.  It was taking place in this tiny little town in Corsica (a French island just north of Sardinia), called Cargèse.  Of course, I was dying to go.  The problem: I didn't want Juniper and me to go with Clark and then twiddle our thumbs for two weeks in a tiny town while Clark spent the whole day in lectures, but I also didn't want to wait until Clark was done and then do the entire crazy voyage alone.  Then my mom had a brilliant idea: she and my dad would come with us… that way I'd have help for the journey, and we'd meet Clark after his course so that we could all vacation together.

Hah.

The day arrived, and we had an elaborate plan whereby mom would drop me and and Juniper at the airport with our luggage, then drive all the way back to the city to drop the car off and have her cousin Carroll drive her back, so that she didn't have to leave the car at pay and park.  We got to the airport at 1pm, for what we thought was a 2:30 flight.  This was actually really pushing it, as driving to Halifax and back would eat up an hour.  Mom decided to risk it.  Then, after she had gone, I looked at my ticket - the flight was boarding in 20 minutes.  They had changed the flight to 1:40pm.  I hustled me and Juniper through security, and on to the plane; dad waited outside of security for mom.  The short ending to this predicament:  my parents didn't make the flight.  I cried as we took off.

On the way to Montreal (first leg of the trip), I started reassuring myself "certainly, they'll make another flight before we have to board for Paris", "everything will be fine - I won't be doing this alone!".  When we landed, however, and I called, mom broke the news that there were no more flights to Montreal for THREE DAYS.  Then I really cried - enough that some nice woman asked if there was anything she could do for me.  No, no there wasn't.

So here I was, with Juniper and a ridiculous amount of heavy carry-on (three bags), and a stupid umbrella stroller that my mom had bought on Kijiji whose wheels kept falling off, and Juniper refused to sit in.  And I had to find my way out of the terminal, back to check-in to get a boarding pass, then back to the gate.  Then was the loooonnnnng flight to Paris, where I couldn't even get up to go to the bathroom while Juniper was sleeping.  At least I had a couple of empty seats beside me… when I got on at first, they had stuck me in the middle of the middle section, but luckily moved us after the flight had filled up.

So, then we arrive in Paris.  I find my way to the baggage claim, and there comes my bag, Juniper's bag…. and then along comes my mom's bag and my dad's bag as well!  I had been told with absolute certainty (and condescension) from the woman in Montreal that there was zero possibility of this - that my parents' bags would be heading back to Halifax if they had even left there in the first place.  WRONG.  Now, here I was, having been travelling for over 12 hours.  I hadn't slept in over 24.  And now I had Juniper, three heavy pieces of carry-on, a stupid non-functioning stroller and FOUR full pieces of luggage.

The next obstacle was to get from the Charles de Gaulle airport to Orly airport, clear across the city. Though it was 85€, I decided to take a cab, rather than try to negotiate the shuttle. I somehow got everything into the cab, and then spent two whole hours in rush hour traffic  (at 6am - go figure!)

Finally, we arrive at Orly. I desperately wanted to get this luggage sorted out - to check it in and get yet another boarding pass for our last flight, to Ajaccio.  So I stood in line, corralling all this luggage, until finally I got to the front - only to be told I couldn't check in until 1.5 hours before the flight.  Not only that, but I had to figure out how to get an infant pass for Juniper, because they had failed to send us one, and for whatever reason, the guy couldn't do it for  me - I had to find a service desk somewhere.  I couldn't even go to the bathroom or change Juniper's diaper… I couldn't fit everything into the freaking bathroom.

So.... 1.5 hours before the flight, I go to check the baggage.  Of course, I had two extra pieces.  I was told it going to be 110€… per bag (I think.  Maybe it was total).  In any event, my jaw dropped.  "These bags were never supposed to come without my parents - what am I supposed to do with them?" I pleaded.  There was some back and forth and chatting amongst themselves, and consulting this person and that person and bringing out the calculator, and finally we sorted it out for 26€.  Of course, then I had to go stand in another line to pay it, and then FINALLY I was allowed into the gate.  The bags were checked.  I had managed to check my email very briefly (I paid a fortune to access a computer at the airport, only to have the freaking power go out 4 minutes later), but it was enough time to see that Clark was going to try and leave his course early and meet us at the airport.  There was finally an end to this madness in sight.

The flight to Ajaccio was lovely.  Juniper slept almost the whole time, and we had a whole row to ourselves, and the view was spectacular.  We landed, and I had this huge smile on my face… until I realized that Clark wasn't there.  He wasn't there.  It hit me in that moment that I was completely screwed.  My mom had taken care of the arrangements for our Ajaccio accommodations - it was an apartment we were renting from a woman named Caroline.  Not only did I not have the directions to the apartment, it wouldn't have mattered if I did, because I didn't have the key.  I didn't have any contact info for Caroline.  I didn't even have a freaking coin to get a trolley for the four suitcases I was now responsible for.  I just sat down, utterly defeated.  I had made it this far, and I had no idea what to do.

Then, like a knight in shining armour, this man came up out of the blue and asked "are you Tara? My name is Eric".  "Are you with Caroline?" I asked.  Yes, he was.  Up until this point, I had no idea Eric even existed, but at that moment, I could have kissed him.  Eric took care of the trolly.  Then he drove us to this little beachside restaurant, where Caroline was waiting.  They sat us down with a bunch of their friends and ordered lunch (Juniper and I sampled the fish soup).

Caroline took this picture.  Eric is the man directly in front of Juniper in the blue shirt.

 Then they left us there because they had a meeting.  I was relatively bewildered, but happy that things seemed to be under control.  Then Eric came back an hour later, drove us to the rental car place, and helped me get that all sorted out.  Then I followed him through the crazy streets of Ajaccio in the new rental car, trying not to lose him while careening through roundabouts and trying to keep Juniper from crying in the back seat. We snaked our up up some ridiculously steep, narrow, windy streets, and finally - we were there!  At the apartment!  He showed me everything he figured I would need to know, then the buzzer rang - it was Clark.  Finally!!  The crazy crazy crazy adventure was over.

Juniper posing on our wrap-around balcony.

We spent the first couple of days wandering around Ajaccio, buying groceries and getting the lay of the land. Three days later,  my parents arrived.  The rest, they say is history… or perhaps, just fodder for some subsequent blog posts.  Here are a few photos from those first few days. I promise, the next posts will have much better text-to-photo ratio, but as you can imagine, I don't have much photo documentation to accompany my travel story.  Stay tuned!


More views from our balcony:  showcasing the city with the mountains and the Mediterranean, and the phenomenal sunsets.

Yukkin' it up at the town square