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Pumonti Corsica or wild dance

5 min. read | by Bruno Compagnet | 30 November 2016 | issue n°

Bruno Compagnet spent the greater part of the ‘inter’ season in Corsica doing his summer job, that of a canyoning guide. Perched within the confines of the I Forchi di Bavedda (Les aiguilles de Bavella), he allowed his soul some solitude before being joined buy his ‘femina’, Layla. Together, they dived into canyons plunging deeper into the scrubland, where organic life continues to reign over organic law.

It is difficult to imagine what awaits you when you set foot, for the first time, on this isle of beauty. The clichés are legendary : the concerns, FLNC, attacks, crime, blown-up villas, forests which burn, pigs which roam freely on mountain roads, ‘charcuterie’, shepherds and cheese, ‘corsé’ as we like them and then some of the most beautiful Mediterranean beaches… But over and above this insular folklore which is well anchored in collective imagination, you will discover charming people, proud of their traditions, language and songs.

Canyoning’s Chinese shadows. One of the main reasons which makes me like canyoning, is that they are like the paths of the human soul: tortuous, bright, dark… Plenty of surprises, good and bad. It is a condensed life which we can travel in a day where there are few hours.

September, end of the 70’s My father, who worked at the Saint Larry guide’s office, loaded me into an old station-wagon with two clients for a trip to the Haut Aragon. We followed the meanders of a very long canyon under the eagle-eye of vultures. We bathed in some emerald green water between impressive great walls of limestone from which flocked clouds of swallows. I was comforted, throughout the kilometres where we saw nobody, by my certainty of being a true adventurer and I was more than a little proud to be a member of this group of explorers. Further on, we discovered a fig tree and wild grapes which, in my child’s imagination persuaded me that we had arrived at a secret paradise. Jumping in to the river made me euphoric. On the return walk, with my mouth full of sweet ripe blackberries, I knew that this place was going to be an important part of my life.

« Often conquered, not without reason. »

What strikes you the most, is the richness and variety of the landscapes … Few areas in the world can boast of such diversity within a relatively small territory. It is a well known fact among travellers or those who have crossed it on foot, that here the reality sometimes takes on the aspect of a living dream. So, when the sea and the mountains merge and the sun rises or sets – playing with a natural wildness – it gives you , time for a breath, visions straight out of an imaginary discussion between an mountain dweller and a sailor finishing a good bottle of Mirto.

« One has to take risks, always take risks. But waiting also involves a risk. » Paul Desmarais Anyhow, if you are not tempted, if you don’t try, if you don’t take risks, you will never know what you are truly capable of, whether canyoning or in life.

Go to the hills. Get lost in the sanctuary of the Aiguilles de Bavella with some friends and, without connection, switch off from time with a warm and scented escapade. A picture-postcard landscape, but which smells of dust and blood … The first time I arrived at Bavella, I had only one thought, to leave the road and go into the surroundings.

A picture-postcard landscape, but which smells of dust and blood … The first time I arrived at Bavella, I had only one thought, to leave the road and go into the surroundings.

« The wider we open our eyes, the darker the night becomes God is only a word dreamed up to explain the world A darker abyss from where the spirit was launched » Alphonse de Lamartine

The fledgling When I started taking people canyoning, one of my guide friends dived off a rock which was fourteen metres high. I needed two months, that’s a whole summer of training, to overcome my fear. It is a very pure feeling. Today, even if I dive less, I continue to adore doing so.

We followed a very twisty country road while drinking beer and admiring the play of the light. Our aim had been to have a « post-card » sunset on the beach. Along the way, a burnt car under a stone wall stopped us in our tracks. We discovered a completely abandoned place where rotted carcasses of cars lay amidst graffiti covered buildings devoured by vegetation. The place had had to be the theatre for dark parties led by people with muddled thoughts…

Butchery

Today, it is difficult to imagine and not very probable that all the charcuterie and salted meat sold in Corsica comes from the semi-wild pigs which have grown up trotting freely in the scrubland feeding on acorns and chestnuts. All the same there is the risk for some of them …

When day rises, I only have one idea in my head, to ride … This is the dream which crops up at twilight and which accompanies me throughout the night.

The Outsiders We have passed quite a lot of time canyoning with Layla during the last five summers … Sometimes we got up before dawn to walk for several hours to reach our start point. To capture the light and ambiance…Magic things happen when one heads in to the wild leaving the beaten track…

Black is Black « But this place is a dead end I start to understand… Is that world serious? » Francis Cabrel

Ambivalence

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