Corsica is like a small rock swung into a world cut in two. Above, the past and memories (vendetta, maquis), below, the sea. The gods of the Mediterranean could settle there on holiday. Corsica is also the birthplace of a community long battered by history. A people who have suffered the invaders and isolation.
Daughter of the “mother” Mediterranean, Corsica has managed to benefit from all the influences of the Basin. “Mixed” mental and cultural, Hard and tragic, secret and wild, Corsica will never just land more on the map of France. Anything that is rational here: neither the terrain nor the climate, nor the passions nor homes, nor the Corsicans. The beaches are heavenly course, the ultra-secret coves and steep mountain terrain. This island is a mixture of rock and pleasure, austerity and fragrances remote island. Clinging to the mountains, isolated in the bush, stone houses and slate house many family secrets that memories of vendetta.
The maquis: the deep Corsica! That of wild pigs and cows release, fountains roadside, long winters that manufacture away from the hustle and bustle of summer, coppa, figatellu and chestnut flour.