The first thing I think of when I look back at my recent trip to the Corsican town of Bonifacio is the wind — my hair was flying all over the place.

This is a windy place, confirmed our host at the bed and breakfast, who was driving us to the city centre from our hotel. He had left mainland France in favour of this gorgeous island, which was also the birthplace of Napoleon.

"The people are nicer here", he said. So far, this had proved to be true. Our hotel was in a quiet village away from the town, and he himself offered to drive us there in the morning for our sightseeing.

Sightseeing meant going on full tourist mode. We took a train up a hill, which deposited us near a historic cemetery in the old town. Apart from the incredible views of the ocean, there were the winding streets running through the old town, oozing the charm of a bygone era.

Perhaps the most impressive was the Staircase of the King of Aragon. A steep staircase cut into a cliff from the 15th century, there is a legend that says it was built in only one night!

Standing at the top, I could see the stairs plummeting down the high cliff, to the crashing waves of the ocean below. A very real fear of heights kept my sister and me from venturing downwards.

Lunchtime — or any meal for that matter — is serious business in France. When we arrived on the previous day, our travels made us miss lunch, so that late in the afternoon, we wandered around the beach near our bed and breakfast, and found a cafe serving food. We had a salad with reduced balsamic vinegar and toasted pine nuts, followed by chocolate crepes, all the while sitting on benches, with our bare feet resting on the sand.

For dinner, we hiked up a small hill. It was the closest restaurant to our hotel. Most guests bring a car, but since we did not, walking was our only option, which, later that night, turned out to be a blessing.

It was dark when we started back for our hotel after dinner, and not a single light, artificial or otherwise, could be seen on the road. It was pitch dark.

Below us was the road illuminated by our phone torches, above us were only big trees and a million stars. As we walked down the hill in the cool night air, we realised that this was one of the very few times in our lives that we had seen the night as it truly is. 

Photo: Sheema Hossain