When thru-hiking, special encounters are part of the experience. One such encounter happened when one of the Frisian bastards completed the GR20 on the island of Corsica in the months of September and October 2018. It is a story that teaches you always to keep an open mind towards every person you meet and not to be distracted by personalities that behave differently from the social norm. Actually, they might turn out to be your possible lifesaver. Especially when hiking the GR20, which is considered Europe’s toughest and most deadly hiking trail. So, if the title of the blog post gives the impression it is about tough men, we must correct it. These are the words of a tough woman.
After seven merciless days on the trail, the bastard finally arrived at the campsite of Petra Piana. Besides the hikers, cows also trudged into the camp area. The first thing he did was head to the shed where provisions were sold. It was the end of the season, and most of the supplies had already been sold out. Luckily, the bastard managed to get his hands on some cheese and sausages — and, most importantly, a litre of red wine.
While lying on his sleeping pad, wine in hand, he watched as more hikers began arriving. Most of them he already knew from the previous days. But among them was another hiker who caught his attention: a woman he guessed to be in her late fifties.
It was the proprietor of the campsite who, at one point, made the inappropriate, semi-sexist remark about marrying her. She responded by saying that she was married and absolutely not interested in him, and so on. From the way she responded — quite loudly, too — and from the way she talked and acted, you could sense that she was somewhat different in the way she communicated. A bit ‘special’ or ‘extra,’ perhaps, and in other ways unusually attuned to the people around her.
Anyway, the bastard did not pay too much attention to it. He was drinking his wine, eating sausages and some smelly but delicious Corsican cheese, and enjoying a wonderful sunset behind the mountains from the comfort of his sleeping pad.
At the end of the following day on the trail, at Refuge de l’Onda, she was there again. The bastard approached her and tried to make some small talk. However, the conversation did not really flow.
For three more days, the bastard did not see her. In the meantime, there were hardly any hikers left on the trail. Most had left the GR20 at the village of Vizzavona, which marks the end of the first, northern leg of the route. Only a handful continued on to the second, southern leg. By then, most of the refuges were also closed, as October was well underway. But at Bergeries Capanelle, the bastard saw the woman hiker again. This time, they had a longer chat.
Together with two other hikers, they were unexpectedly treated to a feast by the owners of the Bergeries: it happened to be the day they were closing for the season, and they needed to get rid of all the food that remained. The hungry hikers were offered candy, cake, and even pastries — as much as they could possibly eat. After eleven days on the trail, it was almost heaven.
From then on, the bastard would meet the woman hiker every afternoon for the remainder of the second leg of the GR20. The bastard always set off very early in the morning, while she was usually an hour or so behind him. Her name was Anna. She was originally from Switzerland but had lived most of her life in the state of Montana in the United States. She also told him that she had ADHD. When she was a child, nobody knew what ADHD was — it simply did not exist as a diagnosis. The only explanation was that she had too much energy. So, her parents sent her up into the Swiss Alps every day to ski, tire herself out, and get rid of all that excess energy.
“That worked pretty well,” she told the bastard in a matter-of-fact tone. “And if the ski-lift didn’t function, I would walk up the mountain.”
Since then she hiked all over the world long-distance trails.
Anna was married to a former American mariner, and together they ran a company specializing in survival training — teaching people how to rescue others in the wilderness and high in the mountains.
The bastard began to realize that some of the other hikers might have kept their distance from her simply because they didn’t quite know what to make of her. Little did they know that she was probably the best safety insurance anyone could have on the notoriously dangerous GR20.
As soon as Anna completed the GR20, which runs more or less from northwest to southeast across the island, she announced that she would also cross Corsica from west to east the next week. When she said this, the bastard could only think about how tired he was and how badly his knees were wrecked after the brutal trail. His mind was focused on one thing: making it to the end alive, and then doing absolutely nothing for a while.
That Anna was from the state of Montana, deep in the Rocky Mountains, where all men wear Stetsons, swear, ride rodeo, spit tobacco, and drink Cold Smoke Scotch Ale, became clear in the village of Bavella.
It was the second-to-last day on the trail, and by then the bastard had been hiking for more than two weeks. Bavella felt like pure luxury. For the first time in two weeks, there was no need to pitch his tent. There was also an excellent restaurant.
The bastard arrived early in the afternoon and ordered a steak. It was far too tempting to settle for a simple lunch. The steak was perfectly grilled: crispy and slightly blackened on the outside, yet incredibly tender inside.
By the time the bastard had finished his meal, Anna arrived. She took off her backpack, joined him at the table, and ordered a meal as well. Not wanting to be ill-mannered, the bastard told the waitress that he would like another steak so they could eat together.
The young waitress did not understand. “Wasn’t the steak good? Do you want to pay?” she asked, clearly confused. She simply was not used to someone ordering the same main course twice.
After some more back-and-forth, half in French and half in English, Anna had had enough and intervened. She snapped at the waitress in a heavy Montana-American accent:
“The man wants another steak!”
It worked surprisingly well. The second steak was excellent, too.
Note — This hike fits a series of semi long-distance walks in the territories of Europe’s autochthonous minorities, or coast trails, in an effort to experience, understand their landscape and culture. Exactly where the Frisia Coast Trail is all about, too.
For these reasons the Frisian bastards hiked the Cape Wrath Trail in the northwest of Scotland (see our blog posts “My God, the Germans Bought All the Bread!” Cried Moira and A Horsewoman From Harlingen in the Highlands — Hiking the Cape Wrath Trail), the Pembrokeshire Coast Path in the southwest of Wales (see our blog post Croeso i Gerddwyr), the coast of south-western Portugal (see our blog post Surf on Someone Else’s Turf — Hiking the Rota Vicentina), the southwest of Spain (see our blog post Naranjas and Reservoir Dogs — Hiking the Coast to Coast Walk in Andalusia), the Lycian Way along the Mediterranean coast of Turkey (see our blog post The Old Couple and the Sea — Hiking the Likya Yolu, and the coastal section of the Bibbulmun Track in southwest Australia.
Other travel blog posts about the GR20 hike are Presence of Mind to Ask the Right Question — Hiking the GR20 and Support for the Corsican Cause in Jeopardy — Hiking the GR20.
Suggested music
- John Denver, Wild Montana Skies (1983)
Further reading
- Abram. D., Corsica Trekking GR20, Trailblazer (2008)
- Davis, R.C., Christian Slaves, Muslim Masters. White Slavery in the Mediterranean, the Barbary Coast, and Italy, 1500-1800 (2003)
- Dillon, P., Trekking. The GR20 Corsica. The High Level Route, Cicerone (2016)
- Fabrikant, M., Grande Randonnée, GR20, À traverse la Montagne corse. Parc naturel régional de Corse, TopoGuides (2016)
- Goscinny, R. & Uderzo A., Asterix in Corsica (1979)
Frisia Coast Trail 