The bay reminded me of the film «Slack Bay» that I had seen recently. It’s about a family of messed-up maniacs, and because of this very fact it makes it all look charming and mysterious.

After a long trek, there was only one wish to eat and sleep. “Give us whatever you have, just please nearby,” we asked plaintively on the Internet.

The heavens heard us but in a funny way…

“We’re next to your marina!” they informed us cheerfully from Chez Felix restaurant. So we headed there …

The path went along the steep coast, through citrus gardens, across thickets of huge cactuses and through stones of strange forms and sizes, it passed along a fantastic view of mountains and so the valley with our bay was left below. Finally, it led us… to the ancient cemetery.

It was growing dark…

«Mom, why do some dead people get holes in the ground, and others lodges?» children wandered. Utility distracted them from their parents’ ominous thoughts who among other things sought for a glass of wine much more than for a plate.

«Perhaps we should go back?» asked Dasha after the 4th kilometer when there was nothing visible around except graves.

«Well, the place shouldn’t be at the cemetery, should it?” asked captain Bolotov, and in reply I told a story about my favorite coffee shop in Istanbul on the ruins of 14^th century graves. My friends looked at me askance and we continued on our way silently.

After the 7^th kilometer, we entered the settlement and saw a crowd on the street. These strange people felt themselves as if they were in Lisbon or Barcelona, but not in a village on the edge of a huge cemetery. Probably, they came from the other side and didn’t have to walk an hour through the avenues with archangels and crosses.

The restaurant was packed. Everyone around was joking and drinking. They behaved in a kind of improper high-toned manner. We also felt much better already after the first glass of wine.

The restaurant is situated around a huge wood-burning stove for roasting huge pieces of meat and pizza. We pounced with hungry eyes and received everything from the menu on our table including “two, no, three bottles” of lovely red-colored Corsican booze. It didn’t make sense to mess around with the 15 item wine list, we knew little about the island’s wines. We quite elegantly poured this very drink on local cheese specialties and charcuterie, ox ribeye, black wild boar’s ribs, a couple of gigantic and most delicious pizzas (a local specialty), and a portion of seafood with dorada. All this was supplied with “another two, no three bottles” of white wine, which turned out to be quite a wine and of worthy quality unlike the red one.

Only children spoke after the dinner, as well Bychkov, who found the only taxi driver at the cemetery ready to take us in three round trips through the elegiac grave fields back to the boat.

Of course, there’s little hope that there is someone among our readers who would gladly moor in a lonely bay and trudge through the cemetery and calderas to Chez Felix. But if you by chance find yourself in the south of Corsica, do visit.

The food is worth the travelling.