Calvi epitomises the reason why the expensive people of France like to escape to Corse for a short break away from the stressful life of long weekends and days spent with a lover in one hand and vanilla-scented cigarette in the other. That being said, I personally vouch for this little port town as the perfect getaway for anyone. And I’m not French. See, never have I had my breath taken away in such a manner as when I was standing on the top of the town’s citadel, looking down onto the sweeping beaches and the crashing waves with the rushing wind from the rugged mountains above billowing around me. Ignoring the poetic waxing of the lyrical: it was just damn spectacular.
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