trip notes

When coming to Bonifacio the traveller experiences two different sensations. The first one has to do with his expectations as foreigner whereas the second one reflects the soul of its inhabitants and their believes. Typical restaurants, cafes and terraces stick to the main pathway all along the pier bank until the fortress. At that point, one recognises it wasn’t just a ramp but the fact of having started Bonifacio's promenade. Standing out there, a monumental portic seems to forecast what the visitor is about to experience behind the walls. Without noticing he feels immerse in an odd-tight but extraordinary space, both unusual and fascinating. When walking up and down through the narrow paths -all of them coloured with pastels- and exotic green gardens that become the city's lung, the visitor may perceive people talking as if singing in either French, Italian or Corsican accent while artists painting the chalky cliffs spread over the Mediterranean Sea. However kindness and politeness can’t ever be misunderstood. You must know it’s banned to ask Bonifaciens how long they've been living there, if they’ve ever thought about going abroad or whether they are interested in the external world. They may get offended and somehow they become savages. Still, inhabitant’s desires claim to preserve their sacred land faraway from the depraved world where contemporary society is so used to live in. One could think Bonifacio’s in limbo, I’d rather to believe it’s an unique place in between nature at the bottom, divinity descending from the top and therefore more real than many others settlements inhabited by human beings

by julian castro