Latest news with #Corsican

The National
3 hours ago
- Politics
- The National
The man behind Scotland and Corsica's enduring link
In general, this belief is phony, but it has some truth in Corsica, in part due to a shared sense of minority nationhood but principally because of James Boswell. Many will know Boswell only for his biography of Samuel Johnson but during an earlier period he was nicknamed 'Corsica Boswell' around London because of his love for the island. James Boswell It was expressed in An Account of Corsica, a history of the island inspired by his stay there and centred on his admiring portrait of the 18th-century nationalist leader Pasquale Paoli. Paoli was famous throughout Europe in his time and is still revered in his own land, where he is commonly referred to as the Father of the Nation and has a status akin to that of Wallace or Bruce. At the age of 25, Boswell made his acquaintance when he deviated from the standard grand tour young noblemen were expected to undertake. Before reaching Italy, the real goal of such journeys, he managed to make the acquaintance of Voltaire and Rousseau. The latter advised him to visit Corsica, the centre of European attention at the time because of its nationalist struggle against its overlord, Genoa. READ MORE: Trust selling Highland clan's land for £6.8m under investigation Boswell set sail from Livorno for Corsica. The journey across the island to meet Paoli was perilous both because of the threat of bandits and the precariousness of roads over the mountainous terrain. But Boswell was young and healthy, and also wealthy enough to be able to hire guards and porters. Corsica had endured centuries of foreign domination. It had been Papal territory but the Pope granted it to Pisa, who later ceded it to Genoa. The Genoese were oppressive rulers and in 1735, after decades of turbulence, Corsica declared independence. Paoli's father was a prominent figure among the rebels but the movement suffered various setbacks, causing the Paoli family to seek refuge in Naples. However, the movement grew in strength and a constitution was drawn up. In 1754 Paoli was invited to return in a leadership role and set about establishing the institutions of a state. In the commune of Corte, he founded a university that still bears his name; reformed criminal law; created a navy and established a currency. Corsica was an independent state between 1755 and 1768. The Corsican cause received international attention. Voltaire issued an enigmatic statement, still blazoned on placards at bus stops on the island, that 'Europe is Corsica'. In his tract The Social Contract, Rousseau wrote that 'the valour and constancy with which this brave people has been able to recover and defend its liberty would make it well worthwhile for some wise man to teach it how to preserve it.' Paoli was that man, and Boswell was keen to make his acquaintance. In 1765 he spent a month in Corsica and it had a deep impact. However, as with Johnson, Boswell got off to an unpromising start. Paoli feared this strange young foreigner was a spy but he was eventually reassured. Boswell explained that he was on his travels and, having been in Rome, he had come 'from seeing the ruins of one brave and free people to see the rise of another'. He reports that Paoli received the compliment graciously but observed that Corsica's 'situation and the modern political system' made it unthinkable that the island could never be 'a great conquering nation', although he was convinced 'it may be a very happy country'. Boswell won Paoli over with his candour, charm and intelligence. The two men formed a deep and lasting friendship, including on Boswell's side the element of deferential near-worship which was part of his character. The two met on a daily basis and, as he would do with Johnson, Boswell made notes of what was said, sometimes during the conversation, sometimes afterwards. These formed the basis of his work An Account of Corsica, The Journal of a Tour to That Island; and Memoirs of Pascal Paoli, published in London in 1768. It is not a relaxing read, with the earlier part an unremittingly serious historical study of Corsican history from classical times, including long quotations in ancient Greek and Latin. READ MORE: The tax haven firms given cash by the Scottish Government revealed But it bursts into life with the closing autobiographical Journal where Boswell records his travels. These sections are written with the verve, wit and vigour which mark his later Life of Johnson. The work was immediately translated and was an international success. However, independent Corsica's enemies now included France, which had been called on to support Genoa but which eventually, and permanently, succeeded Genoa as ruler of the island. One independence supporter was Carlo Bonaparte, father of Napoleon. What if Napoleon had been born in an independent Corsica and had never been French, and thus could never have become Emperor of France? But that is a question for dreamers, not historians. Boswell immersed himself in Corsican ways, and even acquired Corsican dress. Other topics included the oppression Corsica had endured, crime and punishment, the nature of God, and the possibility of intelligence in animals. There were also lighter moments, although mainly with servants and the military, not Paoli himself: 'They asked me a thousand questions about my country, all of which I cheerfully answered as well as I could.' The period of independence was brought to close when Corsican forces were routed at the Battle of Porto Novu in 1769. Paoli was forced into exile in London. There, he renewed his acquaintance with Boswell who in turn introduced him to the leading figures in the worlds of literature and politics – including the king, who awarded him a pension, as well as Johnson and Pitt the Elder. Boswell also accompanied Paoli on a visit to Scotland but there is no account of that tour. Paoli made a brief return to Corsica in 1790 when the chaos following the French revolution made Corsican independence seem again possible. But three years later he was accused of treason and had to flee back to London, where he died in 1807. There is still a bust of him in Westminster Abbey. He was buried in St Pancras churchyard but his body was returned to Corsica in 1889 and interred in Morosaglia, where he was born. This tiny village is at the top of a mountain and its inaccessibility has acted as a deterrent to all but the most ardent admirers. The house has been transformed into a chapel-cum-museum, which celebrates Boswell alongside Paoli. Boswell is credited as being responsible for the creation and diffusion of the 'Paoli myth' in Europe. Boswell remains a well known figure in Corsica and, thanks to him Scotland's history and status now is of interest to Corsicans.


Spectator
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Spectator
A mafia drama like no other
The Kingdom is a mafia drama like no other. It's directed by Julien Colonna whose father was a Corsican mob boss who died in 2006 (officially in a car crash although it's generally believed he was 'whacked'). And it's told through the eyes of a young girl. Think of it as The Godfather from the point of view of a teenage Connie Corleone. Or The Sopranos from the perspective of Meadow. Or just take it for what it is, which is tense, brilliant and rivetingly convincing. The film is set in Corsica in 1995 at a time when the island was experiencing deadly mob feuds as well as intense conflicts between nationalist groups. Colonna has deployed locals rather than professional actors which adds to that believability. The cast is led by Ghjuvanna Benedetti who is stunning in every possible way. She plays 15-year-old Lesia – roughly the age Colonna would have been in 1995 – and she's our point of view. She lives with her aunt in a village where school is out for the summer. (I'm a sucker for what I call 'the one long hot summer' film.) She flirts with a handsome boy. She heads to the beach with her friends. After a hunt she field-dresses a strung-up boar. Blood splatters her face. It's expected. It's the Corsican way. Violence is customary, always in the air. Her summer changes when she is whisked away to stay with her father Pierre-Paul (Saveriu Santucci). He's a crime boss, holed up in a villa, on the run from the police as well as rival gangsters. Their tit-for-tat killings appear to have been going on for ever. He adores her but he does not know her. Lesia isn't a talker. She is quietly watchful and sullen but he promises her a week of fishing and swimming. It's all change again, however, when Pierre-Paul and assembled 'uncles' gather round the television and watch a report on a car bomb that may well have been intended for him. From now on it's all safe houses, disguises, overheard conversations, glimpses of Pierre-Paul sending his lieutenants out in bullet-proof vests with guns. He tries to return her to the village but she smuggles herself back. At some level she comprehends that she has a limited time in which to bond. They're on the run together and she must now face the dangerous realities of his world and 'the kingdom' that he has created and that she will inherit. Or will she? Will she be able to break the cycle of retribution? (Colonna's father's father was also murdered by the mafia. Not a 'car crash'. Shot dead.) The film is understated, naturalistic, sultry, intimate, with a pervasive undercurrent of dread while Lesia and her father's relationship grows deeper. Pierre-Paul treats his daughter tenderly and with affection yet she knows, as do we, that he is capable of truly brutal acts elsewhere. How do you love a man like that? It certainly doesn't make being a mobster look like any fun, even though the fabulous cinematography makes Corsica looks stunning. You want to tell them: 'Pack it in and go for a nice swim, fellas!' It's not, I should have said, an especially bloodthirsty film. Most of the 'whackings' take place off camera, although it does ramp up at the end. The performances are terrific – as is the chemistry between the two leads. And I doubt you'll be able to take your eyes off Benedetti for a single second. It's Colonna's first major film and I hope there are many more. He may get to live a long life.


The Irish Sun
29-07-2025
- The Irish Sun
The little-known sunshine spot with stunning beaches, 32C heat, rich history and world-famous hiking trails
TAKE a look at the little-known sunshine spot with stunning beaches, 32C heat, rich history and world-famous hiking trails. Corsica is a stunning Advertisement 4 Corsica is a stunning French island in the Mediterranean Credit: Getty Images 4 It is known for its stunning beaches Credit: Getty Images 4 There are also a number of scenic hiking trails Credit: Getty Images The hottest month of the year in Corsica is August, when temperatures reach 32C, making it a perfect destination for a summer getaway. This stunning island is famous for its dramatic mountains, quiet villages and crystal-clear coastline that's full of fabulous beaches. Known as one of the most scenic islands in the And although it is one of France's most underrated sunshine spots, there is plenty to do to keep the whole family entertained. Advertisement READ MORE IN TRAVEL The island is surrounded by the Mediterranean Sea, offering sweeping views and plenty of opportunities for water activities throughout the summer. Close to the coast, you'll find some of the most unspoiled beaches in This includes breathtaking spots like Palombaggia and Santa Giulia - both known for their white sands and calm turquoise waters. From the coastline, you can take boat trips to the Lavezzi Islands or explore sea caves around Bonifacio. Advertisement Most read in News Travel Aside from its Corsica's villages, such as Pigna and Sant'Antonino, are also a must-visit. The beautiful island just a few hours from the UK with 30C summers and more than 200 beaches These hotspots are filled with charming stone houses, narrow streets, and local artisans selling traditional crafts. For history enthusiasts, the island's capital, Ajaccio, is the birthplace of Advertisement Hiking is one of the most popular activities in Corsica, with the famous GR20 trail, one of Along with its natural beauty, Corsica is known for its distinct cuisine, blending French and Italian influences that are seen throughout its many cafes and restaurants. Corsican 'EXPERIENCE OF LIFETIME' Despite being a tourist destination, Corsica retains an unspoiled feel, with protected nature reserves and remote beaches offering tourists a quiet retreat from mainland France. Advertisement The island also offers plenty of activities for outdoor enthusiasts, from sailing and diving to horseback riding and canyoning in the island's diverse landscapes. Corsica's world-famous rivers offer tonnes of opportunities for kayaking and rafting, particularly in the Restonica and Golo gorges, where the scenery is breathtaking. Cycling is another popular way to explore the island with many scenic routes throughout, including climbs along the mountains and coastal rides with stunning sea views. People have taken to TripAdvisor to share their thoughts on the island's hiking trails. Advertisement One person wrote: "It's a lifetime experience, a magnificent hike with breathtaking landscapes! Completely incredible human and animal encounters." Another commented: "Lovely place to hike! I've been hiking for about five days with a group of friends and this was amazing; lakes, mountains and canyons are unique." 4 The island is full of stunning towns and villages Credit: Getty Images


National Geographic
12-07-2025
- National Geographic
The rebellious French island of Corsica has been shaped by time and tradition
This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK). There's something contrarian about Corsica, the fourth-largest island in the Mediterranean Sea. Seen from above, it resembles a hand with its index finger raised in defiance — the digit in question being the Cap Corse, a rugged peninsula of dark green mountains, bobbing fishing boats and beaches like Plage de Barcaggio, untouched by human development and famed for its herd of sunbathing cows. Corsica's story is one of fierce resistance in the face of repeated attacks and colonisation, and the longer you spend on the island the more the headstrong spirit of the Corsican people reveals itself — and the more its apparent paradoxes seem to unfold. 'Corsica, for most of its history, was an island that was afraid of the sea,' says guide Catherine Lehmann as we navigate the coastal capital, Ajaccio, through honeyed stone streets and squares where old men play pétanque in the shade of plane trees. 'Pirates, invasions and malaria — that's what the coast traditionally meant to Corsicans. In 1769, when Napoleon was born here, Ajaccio was nothing.' Napoleon reflected on the obdurate spirit of his homeland: 'Even today, children are raised like warriors here.' Photograph by Jonathan Stokes We walk from the city's coral-hued Renaissance cathedral up a leafy hillside boulevard to an imperious statue of Corsica's most famous son, Napoleon Bonaparte, gazing out over Ajaccio to the sapphire-blue Mediterranean Sea. The statue projects the same image as countless paintings and films have over the past 250 years: a stout man in riding boots and an overcoat, one hand tucked inside his waistcoat, steely eyes staring from beneath a bicorn hat. 'He looked very Corsican. Short, slumped shoulders, but very intense and self-confident,' says Catherine. A Corsican herself, she shares some of his features — she's small but resolute, her olive skin offset by grey-blue eyes, which are surprisingly common on Corsica. In personality, too, Catherine says, Napoleon reflected the obdurate spirit of his homeland. 'Even today, children are raised like warriors here,' she remarks. 'In France, if a kid gets bullied at school, their parents tell them to tell the teacher. Here, we tell them to punch the bully back. Be a Corsican. Not a chicken.' Corsica's strategic position between France and Italy has long made it a target for occupying outsiders, from the Romans, Greeks and Carthaginians of the ancient world to the modern governors — or colonisers, as many Corsicans still see them: the French. So while it's fitting in a way that Corsica's most famous son should be a militaristic outsider like Napoleon, reception to him in Corsica itself is mixed. Not only is he the embodiment of French imperialism, but as ruler of France, he's widely believed to have neglected his Corsican homeland. The view, however, is different in Ajaccio, which he transformed from a coastal backwater into a capital city. 'Here we have a much more positive view of Napoleon than elsewhere in Corsica,' says Catherine as we stroll along the harbour, its swaying palms and gleaming yachts like a vision of the Côte d'Azur. 'And we feel more French.' Into the mountains To discover the Corsican spirit in its most distilled form, I'm heading inland, where medieval hilltop villages rest in blankets of cloud, and hairpin roads wind through mutated outcrops of granite that erupt like popped corn from swathes of cool, thick forest. As I drive, the fragrance of the maquis — the herby shrubland that defines the Corsican interior — floods in through my open window. The aroma of rosemary, sage and the curry-like smell of immortelle, a yellow flower used in some of the world's most expensive fragrances, mingle together in a glorious melange. Corsica is a perfumed isle; a wistful Napoleon, during his final exile on the remote Atlantic island of Saint Helena, is said to have spoken longingly of the scent of his homeland. The aroma of rosemary, sage and the curry-like smell of immortelle mingle together in a glorious melange. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes The serenity is shattered periodically: by death-wish drivers overtaking me on blind corners and, more subtly, by damage to the road signs — in the form of spray paint or bullet holes — erasing the French translations of the Corsican-language place names. The pointed vandalism serves as evidence of abiding discontent with the status quo. Corsica's political climate remains fraught. Although calls for outright independence from France are no longer mainstream, the movement for greater autonomy remains strong and occasionally spills over into violent protest, most recently in 2022. An hour-and-a-half's drive from Ajaccio, the town of Corte reveals itself: a picture-book huddle of medieval houses set on a hilltop citadel that rises imposingly above the maquis. Corte was the capital of the short-lived Corsican Republic — declared an independent state in 1755 by Pasquale Paoli, who sought to liberate Corsica from its ruler at the time, the Republic of Genoa. The Corsican Republic fell when the island was taken over by France in 1769 — the year of Napoleon's birth — but to this day it's Paoli, far more than Napoleon, who's Corsica's national hero. Besides his fierce battle for Corsican independence, Paoli was a liberaliser and innovator; his Corsican Constitution was the world's first written constitution, and incorporated democratic principles including female suffrage. I sit at a cafe in the town square and order a clementine juice — a Corsican speciality — in the shadow of a defiant statue of Jean-Pierre Gaffori, a hero of Paoli's revolutionary movement, who was assassinated in 1750. The building behind him, his former home, is still riddled with bullet holes; above his head, the Corsican flag flaps in the breeze. Like neighbouring Sardinia's, the flag depicts a Moor's head, a legacy of Corsica's time as a territory of the Spanish kings of Aragon. On pre-revolutionary flags the Moor was blindfolded; legend has it that Paoli ordered the bandana to be lifted onto his forehead to symbolise the awakening of the Corsican people. Corsica's political climate remains fraught. Although calls for outright independence are no longer mainstream, the movement for greater autonomy remains strong. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes After another 90-minute drive, I reach my final destination for the day: the home (and holiday cottages) of musician Christian Andreani, in the village of Patrimonio. In the garden, in the shade of an age-thickened chestnut tree, Christian — a short, white-bearded man in glasses and a denim jacket — lays out a selection of ancient Corsican instruments. There are several extravagantly curved sheep horns, an array of wooden recorders and a flute made from a goat's leg bone. This latter instrument, Christian says, is similar to ones used by Corsica's mysterious prehistoric people, about whom little is known beyond the stone menhirs, or standing stones, they left behind. They bear millennia-old carvings of human figures that stand, open-mouthed, frozen as if awestruck by some higher power. Thousands of these figures still scatter the maquis; some stand proud in lonely groves, looking like they were carved yesterday; others lie face-down, cracked and strangled with ivy, waiting to be resurrected. Christian can often be found playing his instruments alone in the mountains, his only accompaniment the burbling of a stream and the tinkle of mule bells. 'It's a rapport with the land and with the cosmos,' he says, before picking up a huge conch shell and brandishing it with a raised fist. 'But this,' he says, 'is the sound of revolution.' He blows a bellowing note that sends birds scattering from the branches and threatens to rain a harvest of chestnuts down on our heads. 'Pasquale Paoli and his troops would blow these shells as a battle cry and to communicate across different valleys,' he says. Although Christian's instruments hark back to a time out of mind, the tunes he plays on them are Corsican folk songs, a genre that's undergone a renaissance in the past 50 years or so. 'We call it the Riacquistu — the reacquisition,' he says. From the 1970s onwards, Christian explains, the Corsican nationalism movement empowered islanders to rediscover the country's unique cultural elements: its Italianate language, long suppressed by the French authorities; winemaking; and folk music. Echoes of the Riacquistu are everywhere here. That very morning, I'd come down for breakfast in my gîte to find the proprietor playing a YouTube video entitled 'One hour of Corsican rebel/combat folk music', humming along between sips of his cafe au lait. These days, not everybody agrees with the methods of the more militant Corsican rebels, but many of these characters have nonetheless gained a place in the collective consciousness as folk heroes. For Christian, though, Corsican national pride doesn't disturb the harmony of present-day Patrimonio. 'This is a peaceful place now,' he says, before leaning in and adding with a conspiratorial whisper, 'there's even a Frenchman in the village.' Christian lays out a selection of ancient Corsican instruments. There are several extravagantly curved sheep horns, wooden recorders and a flute made from a goat's leg bone. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes Christian soon has a chance to showcase Patrimonio's community spirit. There's a musical performance taking place tonight at the San Martinu Church in the village, an imposing structure that looks, with its pockmarked walls and rugged stonework, almost as old as the prehistoric monoliths strewn across the Corsican hinterland. The church is dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours, a fourth-century Roman soldier-turned-monk whose travels inspired the new island-wide Saint Martin Pilgrimage Trail, a walking route that's been opening in stages since 2024. I enter the church as it's getting dark. Christian and a dozen or so other men take to the stage, dressed in grey cassocks, and deliver a rousing set of hymns, their voices coalescing in deep, rich harmony. After the performance, I get chatting to the person next to me on the pew: a smiling, grey-bearded man named Ange Torre. He's a musician, he tells me, and fronts the band Eppò, which combines rock with traditional Corsican folk music. He gives me a blast of one of their songs through his phone. It's a riotous blend of acoustic guitars, bass, drums and the polyphonic singing traditional to the Corsican countryside, all delivered passionately in the Corsican language. Ange acknowledges the influence and importance of the Riacquistu, but says his band initially faced opposition from some purists within the movement. 'A lot of people asked how we could mix traditional Corsican music with rock — they thought we were crazy,' he says. He's also on a mission to upend the atmosphere of the nationalist movement itself, and restore some joy to Corsican music. 'A lot of the music right now is sad or angry about the fight for independence, the injustice, the people that were killed or put in prison,' Ange explains. 'But many of us just want to dance. Nowadays that can seem quite radical — but people need joy.' The evil eye & the white witch The following morning, I take a walk on a forest trail outside Patrimonio through stands of chestnut and pine trees. While showing me around his garden the previous day, Christian had told me that he viewed its most ancient trees as totems. This idea of the totemic power of nature abides in rural Corsica, alongside a deeply rooted belief in a spirit world that exists with and influences our own, unseen to most, but not all. I'd read and heard whisperings about white witches, called signadoras, expert herbalists who purport to have the power to neutralise the evil eye, traditionally feared in Corsica and in cultures across the Mediterranean. I never expected to meet a signadora, but Christian tells me he knows one: a woman called Francesca Desideri. I drive back through the maquis to meet her in the village of Querciolo. The idea of the totemic power of nature abides in rural Corsica, alongside a rooted belief in a spirit world that exists with our own. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes Francesca greets me in her garden, outside a log cabin that serves as her kitchen and workspace. She's elderly, white-haired and has a deeply lined face, but is still sturdy and strong from a life outdoors, picking plants in the maquis. Her eyes are electric blue, bejewelling her eye sockets like semi-precious stones. We take a seat in the workshop, which appears untouched by the passing of centuries. Scythes and bundles of dried herbs hang on the wall, and a black-and-white cat peers nervously around an ancient-looking stove. On the table is a ceramic bowl full of water and a stoppered bottle of olive oil. Francesca motions for me to place my hand on one side of the bowl, then drips three drops of oil into the water, muttering incantations as she does so. These secret prayers, she tells me later, invoke the Virgin Mary — a Christian element absorbed into a pagan tradition to avoid having it stamped out by the Church. 'Christianity came to Corsica very late,' Francesca says. She repeats the oil-and-water process three times, and says that with each repetition, the behaviour of the oil changes, no longer scattering but joining together as one blob — a sure sign that any trace of the evil eye has been cast out. I can't tell much difference, but Francesca seems satisfied. Not all of Corsica's mystical inhabitants are a benign as the signadoras. Francesca tells me that most Corsican villages are home to people known as mazzere, who claim to enter the spiritual plane in their sleep and all have the same dream: that they're hunting in the maquis, where they kill a wild boar. They then turn over the animal's dead body to see the face of someone in the village, who'll be the next person to die in the waking world. These dream-hunters, Francesca says, are bestowed with their powers against their will, and are feared and ostracised in their villages as prophets of death. 'So although I know some,' she says, sharply, 'they won't want to talk to you.' Heroes & villains The final stop on my journey is Bonifacio. The town is split between a somnolent harbour, where little fishing skiffs bob next to expensive pleasure boats, and a grand hilltop citadel. From here, there are sweeping views over the glittering Strait of Bonifacio and the coast of Sardinia, just 10 miles to the south. On both levels, the buildings are handsome, centuries old and hewn from amber stone. The Corsican nationalism movement empowered islanders to rediscover the country's unique cultural elements: its language, winemaking, and folk music. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes 'In the past, the French government made Corsicans believe that they had to move to France to become successful. Recent generations have been empowered to stay and become successful here." Photograph by Jonathan Stokes As it happens, my visit coincides with De Renava contemporary art biennale, which is held in Bonifacio and runs from May to November. The event is hosted in spaces across town, but primarily in a vast, crumbling 19th-century building in the heart of the citadel that was formerly an army barracks. I pull up outside and am greeted by De Renava's co-founder, Dumè Marcellesi. He's a colourful character: a tall, broad-shouldered man in his early 30s, with wild curly hair and a moustache. He shows me around the gallery and I'm a little surprised, in a trendy Corsican contemporary art space, to find the opening room dominated by a huge oil painting of Napoleon Bonaparte, dressed in his coronation furs. It soon becomes clear, though, that this is a subversive statement. 'To some people he's still a hero; here on Corsica he's a villain,' says Dumè. 'The theme of the biennale is 'The Fall of Empires'. You English are specialists in the subject, of course,' he adds with a grin. Dumè signals to a tawdry souvenir vase, emblazoned with Napoleon's image, which sits on a plinth beside the painting. 'This is the modern legacy of Napoleon: cheap tat and tourist marketing,' he remarks. In a previous life, Dumè tells me, he was an investment banker in Paris and a professional rugby player for Stade Français. But during the pandemic he gave up the city life and moved back to the countryside near Bonifacio to take over his parents' farm, producing olives and cheese and becoming a mogul of Corsica's contemporary art scene. 'In the past, the French government made Corsicans believe that they had to move to France to become successful,' he says. 'But since the Riacquistu, that's all changed. Recent generations of Corsicans have been empowered to stay, or come back and become successful here. Corsica is no longer a cage.' In spite of which, he adds, in typically iconoclastic Corsican fashion, 'The Riacquistu is dead. It was a reaction — what we need now is some action.' Dumè's worry, he says, is that the movement to reposition Corsica's role within France plays down the island's merits. 'We need to stop defining ourselves by the past, be happy with what we are and focus on what we can do ourselves.' Dumè's aim with De Renava, he says, is to prove that Corsican artists can stand up alongside better-known international names. Between sketches by Jean-Michel Basquiat and a film by acclaimed Egyptian artist Youssef Nabil is an installation by Corsican artist Yan Leandri: an array of flickering TVs play footage from the 1980s and '90s, when nationalist violence was at its peak. On a wall outside, unrelated to the exhibition, is a stencil of Yvan Colonna, a Corsican nationalist who repeatedly maintained his innocence after being controversially jailed for the 1998 murder of Corsica's highest-ranking official, Claude Érignac. Colonna was himself murdered in jail by a fellow inmate in 2022 and has since become a symbol of the modern nationalist movement. Stencils like this can be seen sprayed on walls across the island. 'The villain became a hero,' Dumè says. 'And so the cycle goes on.' Getting there and around: British Airways flies direct from Heathrow to Figari three times a week in summer. Average flight time: 2h From the French mainland, Air Corsica offers year-round flights from Paris, Marseille, Nice, Toulouse and Lyon to the Corsican airports of Ajaccio, Calvi, Bastia and Figari. Public transport is limited in Corsica. There's one train line, the U Trinichellu, which runs from Ajaccio to Bastia, stopping at Corte. There's also a limited bus service between large towns. Most visitors will find it easiest to rent a car; offices including Avis and Enterprise are represented at the island's airports. When to go The shoulder seasons of spring and autumn (March to May and September to November) are fantastic times to visit Corsica, without the heavy crowds and searing heat of summer. Temperatures often exceed 30C in August, for example, as opposed to average highs of 22C in October. Where to stay: Hôtel Spunta di Mare, Ajaccio. From €75 (£64), B&B. Roc Seven Casa Santini, Porto-Vecchio. From €225 (£188), B&B. More info: DK Top 10 Corsica. £8.99 How to do it: Exodus Adventure Travels has an eight-night Mountains & Villages itinerary in Corsica, covering stops in Ajaccio, Corte and Bastia and visits to prehistoric menhirs, museums and beaches. From £1,349 per person, including transfers, train travel, all meals and guided hikes. Excludes flights. This trip was supported by ATC Corsica, Air Corsica and Atout France. Published in the July/August 2025 issue of National Geographic Traveller (UK). To subscribe to National Geographic Traveller (UK) magazine click here. (Available in select countries only).


The Irish Sun
10-07-2025
- The Irish Sun
20 of Europe's most beautiful islands that have direct flights from the UK – and some of the world's best beaches
WHO doesn't love an island holiday? You get the best of both worlds with bustling old towns and of course, incredible beaches. Here are 20 of the best Advertisement 8 Some of the destinations have the most beautiful beaches in the world Credit: Alamy Corfu The buildings are orange rather than the classic white and blue because of Venetian influence and the island is famous for its old town full of shops and cafes. One You can fly from Birmingham airport to Corfu (CFU) in three hours 10 minutes with easyJet one-way flights start at £23.99 (on October 20, 2025). Advertisement Read More on European Breaks Corsica The island has over 200 beaches and is known for having chic shops, cafés and restaurants. The island is also a great place to hop on a boat tour. There's one that stops off to enjoy a Corsican wine tasting hosted by a sommelier and a local wine-grower while watching the sunset. You can fly from London Gatwick airport to Corsica (BIA) in two hours 14 minutes with easyJet one-way flights start at £39.89 (on September 23, 2025). Advertisement Most read in Beach holidays Exclusive Exclusive Crete It has ancient ruins, but also incredible beaches, including one of the best in the world. The TUI guide to Crete from best beaches to passport rules 8 Elafonisi Beach is known for it's rare pink sand Credit: Alamy Advertisement One You can fly from London Gatwick airport to Crete (HER) in three hours 55 minutes with easyJet one-way flights start at £38.99 (on November 2, 2025). Fuerteventura For a summer feeling on sandy beaches head to Highlights on the island include Corralejo and the Jandía peninsula, and the Advertisement You can fly from London Stansted airport to Fuerteventura (FUE) in four hours 20 minutes with Ryanair one-way flights start at £21.00 (on November 26, 2025). 8 The Canary Islands are popular and only hours away from the UK Credit: Alamy Gran Canaria There's lots to do on the island of From exploring the Advertisement The island also has busy nightlife too with busy bars and nightclubs. You can fly from Ibiza Ibiza is a popular Mediterranean island when it comes to but beaches, but especially the nightlift. Dubbed the party island, it has recently Advertisement You can fly from Kefalonia It's never actually reached number one, but Myrtos Beach has been named as one of the best in Greece more than ten times. It's no surprise really as it's adorned with white pebbles, has a cliff backdrop and bright blue waters. Advertisement When one You can fly from Manchester airport to Kefalonia (EFL) in three hours 45 minutes with easyJet one-way flights start at £29.99 (on October 25, 2025). 8 Kos not only has beaches, but natural hot springs too Credit: Alamy Kos Advertisement While visiting the island, one You can fly from London Lanzarote The Locals revealed to Advertisement You can fly from London Southend to Lanzarote (ACE) in four hours 5 minute with easyJet - one-way flights start at £15 (on November 24, 2025). 8 La Palma has bustling towns and volcanic black sand beaches Credit: Alamy La Palma La Palma is another of the Canary Islands known for forest landscape and beaches with volcanic black sand. Advertisement One of the most famous landmarks is the Visitors who reach the top can gaze at the valley below from 8,000 feet in the air. You can fly from London Gatwick to La Palma (SPC) in four hours 25 minute with TUI - one-way flights start at £136 (on November 13, 2025). Madeira Advertisement The You can fly from London Luton to Madeira (FNC) in three hours 55 minute with easyJet- one-way flights start at £41.99 (on October 13, 2025). Majorca Trusty It's the most popular of the Balearic Islands, the capital city of Advertisement You can fly from Manchester to Majorca (PMI) in two hours 35 minutes with Ryanair - one-way flights start at £15 (on July 23, 2025). Menorca It has four main towns, including, You can fly from London Stansted to Menorca (MAH) in two hours 25 minutes with Ryanair - one-way flights start at £21.99 (on August 21, 2025). Advertisement 8 Mykonos has sun, sea, sand and windmills Credit: Alamy Mykonos Over the years it's become popular with celebrities too like Beyonce and the Hemsworth brothers. There's even a Advertisement You can fly from London Gatwick to Mykonos (JMK) in three hours 50 minutes with easyJet- one-way flights start at £38.99 (on August 25, 2025). Rhodes Dubbed as the quieter neighbour of Crete and Santorini, Rhodes is the place to be, and as one They discovered the nightlife too with rooftop bars and fine dining at Mystilli Roof Garden. You can fly from London Luton to Rhodes (RHO) in four hours and 10 minutes with easyJet- one-way flights start at £32.99 (on October 21, 2025). Advertisement Santorini While some try to steer away from the busier Greek islands, there are some you have to see for yourself - like Popular sites are the blue-domed churches and views of the houses carved into the cliffs. You can fly from London Stansted to Santorini (JTR) in three hours 50 minutes with Ryanair - one-way flights start at £34.99 (on September 28, 2025). Sardinia Advertisement You can You can fly from London Stansted to Sardinia (AHO) in two hours 30 minutes with Ryanair - one-way flights start at £18 (on September 28, 2025). 8 Siscily has striking cliffs and plenty of vineyards inland too Credit: Alamy Sicily Just under two miles from the Italian mainland is the island of Advertisement With ancient ruins, incredible food, plenty of vineyards and beautiful coastlines, the island is understandably a popular destination for Brits. You can fly from London Stansted to Tenerife Sun, sea and sand, One Sun Writer visited Advertisement You can fly from London Luton to Tenerife (TFS) in four hours 20 minute with Ryanair - one-way flights start at £21 (on September 17, 2025). Zante Also known as Zakynthos, It's a great location for holidaymakers wanting to relax and have fun during the evening at local bars and clubs too. In 2023, in the world by the travel website Advertisement You can fly from London Stansted to Zante (ZTH) in three hours 25 minute with Ryanair - one-way flights start at £29.99 (on October 21, 2025). 8 These 20 European islands have direct flights and incredible beaches Credit: Alamy