The evening of our first day sailing, we arrived in La Maddalena, an island north of Sardinia. I found it beautiful, an Italian riviera feel. "It's nice," Tim said, "but it's no Bonifacio... just wait. You'll see."
I wasn't expecting to visit Corsica. After all, I only had 3 full days of vacation. But, early the next morning we set "sail" for the 30 mile journey to the north. The thought of sailing always intrigued me, and I had a huge desire to experience it. Sailing along the coast of Sardinia the day before was touch and go, but in the end we had enough wind to get us to our destination. The path to Corsica, however, was as still as still could ever be.
We tried multiple times to catch whatever light breeze would blow in our direction. But it availed us nothing. Instead, we motorboated it at a whopping 3-5 miles an hour, sail-less.
I could have been left feeling disappointed, as though I was given the short end of the stick. But with the view that awaited us at our final destination, all of those feelings would have disappeared anyway.
Tim was right, Bonifacio was spectacular. Better than I could have ever imagined. And a place where even pictures can't give justice.
We tried multiple times to catch whatever light breeze would blow in our direction. But it availed us nothing. Instead, we motorboated it at a whopping 3-5 miles an hour, sail-less.
I could have been left feeling disappointed, as though I was given the short end of the stick. But with the view that awaited us at our final destination, all of those feelings would have disappeared anyway.
Tim was right, Bonifacio was spectacular. Better than I could have ever imagined. And a place where even pictures can't give justice.
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