Day 4 started early. Either 5:30 or 6:30 am. Doesn't matter. It was early and it was still dark and we were headed to Corsica via a massive ferry - which happened to be very awesome. I think it might have been the largest ferry I've ever had the pleasure of boarding. It was also the longest ferry ride I've ever had the pleasure of....not sure what to write there.

Anyway, the ferry ride was nearly five and a half hours long. So we took a lot of pictures on the deck. I would like to point out that the deck was windy, which is why I have my skirt awkwardly tied between my legs in some photos. After the first time my skirt flew over my head I decided this tied up option was much better than frequent yet unpredictable flashes of my big white ass.

Because we took so many pictures over the course of our five and a half hour voyage, I put together another nifty little video to highlight some of the most memorable moments. And I synced the video to an incredibly offensive song. I hope you like it!



Our ferry ride landed us in Isula Rossa. From there we drove a few hours to Calvi, where we camped for the night. We arrived close to 3 pm and lunched at an over-priced tourist trap along the beach. It was a perfectly lovely lunch except for the pigeons. I hate pigeons. I despise them. They are revolting. They land on tables looking for crumbs and eat trash. Yuck!

After lunch we toured the Citadel, which was pretty cool. It was old and all that. And apparently Christoper Columbus hails from Calvi and we all love that guy.



After our walking tour, we slapped on our hiking gear - which meant we traded our flip flops for sneakers and Dylan put on a Man-tank - and, obviously, we took a hike! It was about a 45 minute walk (maybe an hour) to the Chapel of Notre Dame de la Serra. Once we reached the chapel, we took in the amazing view and to get a better look we climbed up a big rock formation. It was pretty cool.

Speaking of hiking, I was cautioned by both Tom and Stephen not to keep up with my brothers. I feel like their warnings could have been interpreted in one of two ways:

1. I think Stephen meant don't try and drink as much as your brothers, it will end poorly. But that was kind of a silly warning because we never drank too much. Never. Prudes.
2. I think Tom meant don't do stupid shit like jump into the sea or scale cliffs. That was also kind of silly advice because we all know that I am a wimp. If it's against the rules or the least bit risky, I am out. 

However, I did do some slightly (and I mean slightly) stupid shit when it came to keeping up with Jack and Dylan on the hike. But it ended well and I didn't suffer any injuries. And I felt like a badass, even if my risky feats were small potatoes compared to stunts my brothers pull on a daily basis.

 

So camping on Corsica was amazing. We stayed at two different camps sites, both next to the beach. Dylan borrowed a two-man tent that was stored in a round shell. When you unzipped the shell, the tent just popped out and was all set to go! I want one. Dylan needs to bring me one - he's been told.

Because the tent could not comfortably hold three people, Dylan slept outside. He was sport about the whole thing but he slept like crap and woke up dew dampened with bug bites after each night. Jack and I, on the other hand, slept quite comfortably and I woke up refreshed each morning.

Also, Jack washed all of his clothes the night we arrived in Antibes. We were literally in Antibes for 10 hours, if that, and there is no dryer in Dylan's flat. I am sure you understand that this meant Jack was then traveling with damp clothes for the next...um...say three days! Washing his clothes was both an incredibly silly move and annoying to me, although I don't think I voiced that to Jack until now. Jack - riding in the backseat with your wet, musty clothes annoyed me at times, just so you know. But it made for a good picture!



During the ferry ride I noticed that my camera battery was low so I am short on pictures from the camp sites. We spent about 60 minutes on the beach that first night and I don't have pictures of that either. But that's mainly because I was worried about getting sand in my camera. We were in the Mediterranean for about five days and only spent three hours on the beach - but I'll get to that.

That evening we dinned at a rather posh place. The other day Dylan reminded me that I totally threw a fit about our table and gave a nice looking family of four the stink eye until the server - per my request - removed them from MY table on the balcony. I don't feel bad about it, though. Here's why: if the table sitting rules have to apply to me then they have to apply to you regardless of the fact that you have hungry tween daughters!

We possibly had our best meal that night. I ordered a mushroom pasta with foie gras. I like the idea of food that is offensive to others, especially to people who like animals. Dylan ordered some sort of stuffed pasta dish. He had his choice between wild boar and black bird. He thinks he ordered the boar but it was all in French and the meat looked stringy to me, like a small bird might look stringy. Jack ordered some seafood melody of a dish. He took a picture. The shrimp still had their heads on - you can see their little black eyes!



This has nothing to do with anything but I would like to bring to your attention to the fact that from here on out I look like crap. The first time I traveled through Europe I looked like ass. For the sake of convenience, I stopped plucking my eyebrows and shaving my legs. I packed one granny dress and two pairs of pants. That was mistake. Stephen and I mainly visited large metropolitan areas where people were dressed to the nines. I constantly felt under-dressed and shabby, especially when I had to met and later spend time with that tall Irish ex-girlfriend we all know I love to bitch about.

Anyway, I hoped you noticed that I looked super cute in Paris. But after that, I stopped washing my hair and wore the same outfit for days on end. That's how I like to roll on road trips and since we were now traveling by car, we were officially road tripping.