Keep driving on the main road until you find the small sign “U Ruspu” indicating an off road in the middle of a wild wood. A small sky blue house, bed sheets in the wind on the washing line and bushes of pale and well kept antique roses. You are chez Jean-Claude Girard, as they would say in Paris. He's a lovely man how was lucky enough (he repeats the word lucky twice) to escape the chaotic French capital because of love problems only to end up in this secluded place in the south of Corsica. La Plage de Cupabia is magical and only a short trip away. That same sky blue colour of the house continues in the kitchen. The air smells at pain d'epices, left to cool down for tomorrow's breakfast when it will taste even more delicious. There’s a basket with citrons and homemade jams on the shelf over the fireplace. Monsieur Girard will always join us at the table and speak slowly. He says that this island is not measured in distances, in the time that it takes to go from one place to another. This island, just like life, cannot be lived in a rush. This small Maison d'hotes is suspended in the short space of time that it takes to fall in love with such a gentle and quiet place.
Words Paola Corini
Translation Raffaella De Tommasi