Diary of a GR20 Trek in Corsica

Last April, my brother sent me the following message.

Last October, we had done together the Everest Base Camp trek in Nepal. But this time, it’s a whole different story: the GR20 is known as one of the toughest treks in Europe, and for the past few months, Vincent has taken up trail running! There was already a clear gap in fitness levels working against me. Now it’s not just a gap, it’s a chasm!

After some hesitation and after making sure Vincent didn’t mind dragging a dead weight around for two weeks, I agreed – it was now or never!

The GR20 is a trek of about 180 km that crosses Corsica from the northwest (Calenzana) to the southeast (Conca) with 11,000 meters of positive elevation gain. The official route has 16 stages. The fastest person did it in 30 hours (I can’t even understand how that’s possible). Between 30 hours and 16 days, all formats are possible; we decided to do it in 12 days, a fairly standard format, convenient for those with two weeks of vacation.

During the trek, we must follow the white and red markers that are present at very regular intervals. Not seeing a marker for 5 minutes probably means we’re off track.

Wild bivouacking is strictly forbidden; we must sleep in refuges that offer several types of accommodation:

• Beds in dormitories (not always available)
• Renting a tent already set up
• A free area to pitch your own tent

For both economic reasons and ease of booking, we choose to bring our own tent.

Each refuge has a minimal food offering and a semblance of a grocery store, as well as more or less basic facilities: showers (rarely hot), toilets (dry), a helipad area, sometimes access to stoves for those who cook their own meals, and a solid shelter.

Most refuges are managed by the Corsican Regional Natural Park (PNRC), but there are also some private accommodation options (generally more comfortable), especially near ski resorts.

In early September, barely five months after first mentioning the idea, we find ourselves in Corsica!

Thursday, September 5, 2024: D-3

The day before leaving for Corsica, I’m starting to stress about what’s ahead.

I had planned to use the months of July and August to get seriously fit, but I completely let myself get overwhelmed. By the Olympic and Paralympic Games on the one hand, which I followed diligently, whether in the stands or in front of my TV. And by all the professional work on the other hand, which I had to catch up on because of my overly diligent following of the Olympics…

I did work on my cardio, which I try to maintain regularly throughout the year, but I’m not as ready as I would have liked.

So not ready, that I realize the backpack I had planned won’t do the trick. It’s a mountaineering bag that was great for our short expeditions in the Alps. It was great for Nepal where we had a porter. For 12 days of trekking with bivouacking, it’s not going to work, and in a panic I run to buy a replacement bag at Decathlon!

Friday, September 6, 2024: D-2

I arrive in the early afternoon at Calvi airport. No public transport exists to get to the city center, and there’s a long wait for a taxi. I’m immediately in the right vibe, because the attire of my fellow waiters leaves little room for doubt: they’re all hikers! After a few chats, I find a Danish couple with whom I can share the taxi fare to the hotel.

Vincent joins me in the early evening. We dine at a small pizzeria, take a little stroll along the harbor with a nice view of Calvi’s fortifications, then head back to the hotel for one last night indoors in a good bed before… a long time!

Saturday, September 7, 2024: D-1

Chill day today, no pressure on waking up.

After a typically local lunch (a Vietnamese Banh Mi!) we grab a taxi to the campsite in Calenzana, the starting point of the GR20.

The campsite is very quiet; those who arrived yesterday have already started the GR20 this morning, and those leaving tomorrow haven’t arrived yet. So we have the luxury of choosing our tent spot before other hikers arrive.

That’s when I discover our palace for the next two weeks, and I’m rather worried when I see Vincent start setting it up (“Is this really for two people?”). It’s cramped, there’s no denying it; once we’re both lying down, there’s no room left for the bags, which have to stay outside, but it’s acceptable.

That’s my big fear for the days ahead: will I manage to sleep properly? My last night in a tent was nearly a year ago: at Everest Base Camp! Even though it was a magical night, it was horrible from a sleep quality standpoint.

Another worry: the weather; it’s going to rain heavily tomorrow! So we’ll leave very early to try to cover as much ground as possible before we get soaked.

We do some shopping for dinner and breakfast, wait in line for a long time, take a quick (hot!) shower, and then it’s lights out!

Sunday, September 8, 2024: Day 1

Distances and elevation gains were measured using Vincent’s Suunto watch, then Alexis’s iWatch, so take that with a grain of salt.

• From Calenzana to the Ortu di u Piobbu refuge
• Departure: 6:21 am
• Arrival: 11:28 am
• Duration: 5 hours 21 minutes
• Distance: 12.5 km
• Elevation gain: 1,542 meters

Woke up at 5:30 am. The night was okay, nothing more. I feel like I dozed off and woke up a hundred times. But it’s enough to be in good shape.

Once we got ready and packed our stuff, we left around 6:15 am. We’re leaving so early because the goal is to reach the refuge before 11 am, when heavy rain is supposed to start.

No easing into the GR20; it hits hard right from the start with serious elevation.

The weather is pleasant, no scorching sun, no extreme heat. We’re back to our good habits: a slow and steady pace, few or no breaks, and regular hydration.

We hit a long, more technical stretch, almost like climbing, where we have to use our hands.

Our packs weigh about 12 kg, including three liters of water. They’re really pulling on our shoulders!

Vincent has a watch that accurately tracks distance and elevation gain/loss.

Around 9:30 am, after three hours of effort, we think we must be close, since we’ve covered the distance planned for this first day.

False alarm; it’ll take another 1.5 hours to reach the refuge just after 11 am, dry!

We arrive at the same time as a couple planning to ‘double the stage’ (i.e., do a second one in the same day); the refuge warden strongly advises against it: the weather’s about to turn, and it could be dangerous.

We’re pleased with ourselves; we walked well. I have a slight issue with my left tendon that I need to watch so it doesn’t turn into a blister. I’m going to put a Compeed on it as a preventive measure.

We find a spot for our tent.

The day will take a turn for the worse around 3 pm when the heavy rain hits. Our tent is small, and we need to organize so our packs outside are as protected as possible. A puddle forms under the tent, which starts to let water in. Vincent has the bright idea to dig a trench to drain the water—it’s pretty effective.

We book dinner at the refuge, served at 7 pm; that’s a relief. We wait under shelter (relatively speaking—it’s open to the four winds, but there’s a roof) until around 8 pm and then head back to the tent.

We’re about to head out to brush our teeth and fill our water bottles at the spring. It’s getting pretty dark, and having no sense of direction, I have the presence of mind to ask Vincent if he’ll be able to find the tent again.

– “Yeah, no problem”

– “Are you sure?”

– “Yes, we’ve got the warden’s cabin as a landmark, and we just need to head down a bit”

So we confidently head toward the spring, in flip-flops, with our headlamps, and in the rain.

Not only do we fail to find the spring… but after turning back, we can’t find the tent either!

It’s pitch dark, and the fog severely limits visibility.

After 30 minutes of wandering in circles, nearly twisting our ankles ten times, Vincent admits he’s out of ideas. We’re lost!

In desperation, I pull out my phone to try to locate the AirTag I have in my backpack. I’m not hopeful since we have no signal.

Miraculously, even though there’s no network in the area, it was located a few minutes ago. I can follow a point that gets us closer, but the tent remains elusive!

We finally get close enough that I can trigger a sound alert via Bluetooth, which lets us find it at last!

The refuge’s tents are white and visible through the fog. Most other tents have reflective strips that make them easy to spot with a headlamp.

Our tent is green, has no reflective strips, and in the fog, it’s invisible! We spent 30 minutes circling it; without the AirTag, we’d never have found it.

We came close to a really rough night. Lesson learned!

Monday, September 9, 2024: Day 2

• From the Ortu di u Piobbu refuge to the Carrozzu refuge
• Departure: 8:07 am
• Arrival: 3:07 pm
• Duration: 7h
• Distance: 8.31 km
• Positive elevation gain: 946 meters

Woke up at 7am for a departure just before 8:15am.

The night was okay, at least much better than if we hadn’t found our tent the day before! However, it rained for a good part of the night and despite the precautions we took, our sleeping gear is soaked.

A small climb to start, then a descent before climbing a very high wall. Very technical climb, almost like climbing. Once again, we’re fooled by distance and elevation estimates. Just when we think we’ve done the hardest part at the top of the pass, that’s far from the case. The climbs multiply, especially the endless, highly technical descents on ultra-abrasive scree.

This terrain is very tough for me and I’m struggling to digest the succession of difficulties after thinking I’d overcome the hardest. Vincent, on the other hand, is at ease and spends a good part of the day waiting for me.

More bad news: part of the sole of my right shoe is coming off. That could jeopardize the rest of the adventure! It’s really frustrating that this happens as early as the second day, especially since my shoes aren’t new but don’t have that many kilometers on them. My shoe probably got cut by one of those cursed stones as sharp as a razor blade. The GR20 is known to be tough, and I’m not at all sure I’ll make it to the finish; having to stop because of a shoe issue would be cruel.

Arriving at the Carrozzu refuge, I ask the warden if he has super glue. The answer is no. He doesn’t exactly reassure me, saying my shoe won’t hold much longer. He explains that maybe, with no certainty, I could buy a new pair at the next stage.

Solidarity among hikers is key. One helps me tape my shoe, another offers construction string. I don’t know how these makeshift solutions will work out; it’s a real source of anxiety.

During dinner on the refuge terrace, we have front-row seats to a helicopter evacuation. Since day one at the campground, we’ve been following the same route as a group of hearing-impaired hikers. One of them sadly broke his tibia while crossing a river just 15 minutes from the end of the stage.

First shower since we started walking. There’s a queue for the two gas-heated showers, but much less for the (very) cold one. Vincent and I are brave, we’ll take the cold shower!

We’re camping near the river; the night might be damp, but it’ll still be better than last night!

Tuesday, September 10, 2024: Day 3

• From Carrozzu refuge to Ascu Stagnu station
• Departure: 8:03am
• Arrival: 1:27pm
• Duration: 5h24
• Distance: 5.32 km
• Positive elevation gain: 873 meters

Woke up at 6:30am with some apprehension: how will my shoes behave? I was already stressed with good shoes, I didn’t need this extra difficulty!

For the first time, we booked the refuge’s breakfast: with stale biscuits and rancid butter, it won’t go down in history.

We break camp around 8am and quickly start a big climb, though less technical than yesterday’s. While we’ve seen mostly scree on the first two stages, the beautiful landscapes start to appear: natural pools, waterfalls, panoramic views… The nice weather and the altitude (we’re at 2,000 meters) even let us see Calvi beach.

After several hours of effort, it’s just a matter of descending; we see the ski station 600 meters below. The descent is still tough for me, especially with the extra effort of optimizing my shoes with each step. Vincent, meanwhile, is strolling.

Finally arriving, we see a sign pointing to the hotel with, among other services, “gear-shoe sales”.

Indeed, I can buy a new pair of shoes (190 euros), and the ones I’m wearing go straight to the trash. What a relief!

Still, there’s the apprehension of continuing with a pair I’ve never used, especially since tomorrow’s stage is considered the hardest. But I have no alternative.

We discover the hotel offers a bivouac package with tent night and full board. Since Vincent couldn’t book the national park refuge nearby, that’s what we choose.

For a similar price, we’ll enjoy unbeatable hospitality. Dinner served at a table. A more elaborate meal than the classic spaghetti with tomato sauce. Hot shower. Wi-Fi access, very handy since we’ve only had sporadic signal when we reach the top of a pass.

We’re supposed to use our tent, but since there are some available, the hotelier offers us to sleep in one of theirs for the same price. Bingo! The triple XL Decathlon tent is so big we can even store our bags inside. Such luxury!

What’s really nice about the GR20 is that everyone’s in it together, sharing the same adventure, the same struggles, and the same mindset. Naturally, we run into the same groups of hikers who started the same day as us and are doing roughly the same stages.

So there are the “deaf guys,” the “Strasbourg folks” (who speak with a Marseille accent), the “Saint-Étienne folks,”… And then there’s Marine, Alexis, and Jonathan, whom Vincent calls “our colleagues.” By coincidence, we sat at the same table for dinner the first two nights. It was Jonathan who helped me tape my shoe, hoping it would hold.

There are also the groups that went with an agency (Corsica Aventure, Allibert Trekking). We gently poke fun at them for lacking a bit of charisma. Besides being accompanied by a professional guide, they only sleep in a tent when there’s no other option and have assistance for their luggage. They were able to entrust a bag to the agency, which shuttles it to certain stages by road when possible, about every three days.

Hot shower, a bit of laundry, recharging our phones, a good dinner with a platter of Corsican cheeses as an extra. And then sleep. Tomorrow’s stage is going to be very long!

Wednesday, September 11, 2024 – Day 4

• From the Ascu Stagnu station to the Ballone sheepfold
• Departure: 6:47 AM
• Arrival: 2:46 PM
• Duration: 7h58
• Distance: 10.41 km
• Positive elevation gain: 1,281 meters

The day is going to be long; we wake up at 5:30 AM under a magnificent starry sky and head straight to breakfast. Excellent surprise: it’s gargantuan and a stark contrast to the PNRC refuge breakfasts. Cakes, crepes, pastries, jams, Nutella, brioches, fruit salads… we’re completely refueled!

Since we used one of the hotel’s tents, breaking camp was faster, and without an urgent little need, we would have left before 6:30 AM.

The climb is going to be very long and very varied, part scrambling, part steady, part ‘semolina’ where you slide back a step for every two you take, all of it very steep.

Vincent heads off ahead, and I expect him to wait for me, as he usually does, in spots suitable for a short break. Not at all! Without warning, he decided to do the climb at his own pace without stopping. So I climb in one go too, except for a five-minute pause near the end to catch my breath. At the top, I’m about half an hour behind him. I find that honorable on a climb of almost 4 hours.

The panoramic view at the top is magnificent. From here, you can leave your backpack and hike up to the summit of Monte Cinto, Corsica’s highest point (2,706 meters). That adds about 1h30 round trip. Since the day is tough and the descent promises to be difficult, we decide not to do it.

At this point, I’m fairly reassured by my new shoes, which have done the job.

The descent, on the other hand, is endless; I’m incredibly slow and my knees hurt. In the last two hours, all I dream of is taking off my shoes and slipping into my flip-flops.

Along the way, we come across two hikers who look at the end of their rope. They’re doing the GR20 in 8 days fully self-sufficient with 18 kg on their backs! They tell us they’re fed up with eating freeze-dried meals and plan to have dinners at the refuges. I’m not sure their preparation level is sufficient; Vincent even points out to one of them that he’s wearing his socks inside out!

We arrive at the Ballone sheepfold, three old-timers are at the bar, deep in an intense conversation in Corsican; we’re in the mood! We set up the tent and go for a swim in the river. The water is obviously very cold, but it feels amazing. If it can help soothe the foot boo-boos…

Physically, no major boo-boos, actually; Vincent got a nice scrape on the back of his thigh from a slip today. As for me, my main worry is a blister that’s been brewing since day one on a heavily used toe.

Every morning when I wake up, still lying down, I move my joints and find hardly any that aren’t sore. Starting is always tricky, but after a few minutes of warming up, it’s fine.

We meet up with our three ‘colleagues’ for a drink, dinner, and a really great evening.

Already a third of the stages done, supposedly the most technical ones. The stages should now be longer in distance but less difficult, more ‘flowing’; I hope that’s true.

A little worry about tomorrow’s weather. Since we have no signal, we rely on info from guides or refuge keepers. A guide reassures us, explaining there will be wind and a bit of drizzle until we cross the pass, but it’ll be sunny afterwards.

Thursday, September 12, 2024 – Day 5

• From the Ballone sheepfold to the Vergio pass
• Departure: 7:43 AM
• Arrival: 2:23 PM
• Duration: 6h40
• Distance: 17.16 km
• Positive elevation gain: 904 meters

Wake up at 6:15 AM, it’s raining; it rained all night. Not easy to get ready in our tiny tent.

We take advantage of breakfast to ask the refuge keeper for a weather update; his terse reply: “It’s not great, but you wanted to do the GR20, so own it!” We leave at 7:45 AM, still in the rain.

We follow the groups of hikers. For the first time since the start of the GR20, the path is easy, descending, ‘flowing’; we set a fast pace to save time, to spend a few less minutes in the rain. After 15 minutes, we’re surprised not to see the red and white markers that signify the GR20 trail.

We realize we’ve gone the wrong way. We turn back, back to square one. It’s demoralizing.

The first part is uphill but easy; we cover ground quickly even though some river crossings are a bit tricky.

Then comes a more technical section with some scrambling. The weather worsens and the gusts of wind get stronger and stronger. We’re in warrior mode; it’s tough. Water runs down the cliff face, and we’re quickly soaked. We’re clearly not dressed well enough for such conditions, Vincent is wearing shorts, I don’t have gloves, just a simple t-shirt under my raincoat.

We reach the summit Bocca di Foggiale and there, it’s absolutely a storm. The gusts of wind whip our faces and we nearly lose our balance due to the wind catching our packs.

We have to cross the ridge and get over to the other side to find less adverse conditions.

Visibility is very poor due to the fog. Vincent is a few meters ahead and turns around. Even though we’re close, it’s impossible to hear each other. I gesture with my fingers to ask if he sees the marker. With a nod, he replies no.

We turn back to find the last marker. We’re not panicking, but the unease is palpable. I think back to the other evening when we searched for our tent at the bivouac, in vain, for 30 minutes. We don’t have 30 minutes; we’ll freeze to death before that. I realize that this is exactly how tragedies happen.

Crouched down to reduce wind exposure, I tell Vincent that this can quickly become dangerous and that we can’t afford to make a mistake.

Luckily, Vincent has his GPS watch and can see the path to follow. He asks me to check an app on my phone, but with my beanie and sunglasses, facial recognition fails, and with the rain, the touchscreen doesn’t work!

We can’t stay there any longer; we take the path indicated by the watch and quickly find a marker, phew!

Shivering, we cross the pass and can start the descent. The weather is still atrocious, but we’re no longer in danger! We’ll learn later that gusts of 130 km/h were recorded in the area that day.

We crouch down and take advantage of being slightly sheltered by bushes to collect ourselves. As I try to say something to Vincent, I burst into tears. I’m decompressing after this major scare.

We continue along the path and a few minutes later, we arrive at the refuge Ciuttulu Di I Mori. The bivouac is a real battlefield. Half the tents are destroyed, on the ground. There’s water up to our calves in some places.

We enter the solid refuge and discover dozens of hikers crammed in. Apocalyptic atmosphere, all in contrast. Some have been there since yesterday and are calmly playing cards. Others, like me, are dazed, as if they’ve returned from the dead.

We find our “colleagues” who arrived 10 minutes earlier. On the way, they picked up a solo hiker who was in difficulty. It’s not impossible that they saved a life.

My tremors are uncontrollable, and even the hot chocolate can’t stop them. I put on a dry t-shirt to avoid hypothermia.

We also find, to our surprise, a group of three girls we had chatted with at the campsite in Calenzane. They had skipped one of the early stages and were therefore ahead of us; we weren’t supposed to see them again. They had been here the previous night and describe the hell they went through holding down tent pegs for fear it might fly away.

They tried to do the descent a little earlier but turned back due to the weather conditions.

Many hikers have decided to stay here at the refuge, but Vincent absolutely wants to continue. After what we’ve just been through, I’m hesitant. I sound out our “colleagues” who also want to go, and we decide to do the descent together; it’ll be safer in a group.

Before leaving the refuge, I put my wet t-shirt back on and make sure to take out the emergency blanket from the bottom of my bag to put it in my pocket within reach.

I’m quickly reassured. Although it’s freezing cold, we’re soaked to the bone, and our feet are swimming in our shoes that have become pools, the conditions are much less severe than what we experienced on the pass.

The descent will be memorable, with sections of waterfall with water up to our calves, canyoning style. Water flows making us feel like we’re going down a river. It’s exhausted that we arrive at our destination, the Vergio pass,where there is a ski resort.

A ski resort means a hotel. We hope to book a room to rest dry and recover from our emotions. But we’re not the only ones with that idea, and everything is fully booked.

The hotel also offers “high-end” tents with electricity and a real bed with a box spring, but the last available one slips away from us.

However, we can rent a tent, ours is soaked, with a good mattress; it won’t be a luxury!

At the bivouac, the looks are dazed; the ordeal has been tough for many people.

We spend the end of the day with our “colleagues”. Reliving the story, we are quite shocked by the carelessness with which the guide instilled confidence in us about the weather, but also that of the sheepfold which gave us no useful information when we asked.

Especially since the information existed, we would indeed learn later that the groups organized by agencies did not do the stage and were able to reach, after a detour, the hotel by road.

Talking with other hikers, we discover that some didn’t experience the same story. Leaving a few hours later, the “Stéphanois” had much more favorable weather and had dry feet all the way. Mountain weather is truly mysterious.

Our “colleagues” who reserved a room long in advance offer to take our shoes so they can sleep warm, hoping they’ll dry as much as possible; that’s really nice!

Dinner, (very) hot shower and a long wait to use the (only!) dryer. We can’t go to bed until 11pm, but at least all our clothes are dry!

Friday, September 13, 2024 – Day 6

• From Col de Vergio to Refuge de Manganu
• Start: 8:54am
• Arrival: 1:40pm
• Duration: 4h46
• Distance: 17.16 km
• Positive elevation gain: 671 meters

I’m woken up at 3am by the rain… We meet our colleagues at 7am for breakfast, which is great. The main challenge of this day is the weather; we know we’re going to have bad weather but hope to reach our destination under the sun to dry our very damp gear.

Vincent managed to buy some super glue to fix his sole, which is also showing signs of wear. We leave just before 9am as the rain has stopped. The first part is very rolling, through the woods, and we walk at an average speed we haven’t reached since the start of the GR20.

The uphill section begins, along with the rain. Rain that turns into hail. Hail that turns into snow!

Conditions become difficult, the snow intensifies, the wind is strong and it’s very cold. I prepare myself psychologically to experience the same hell as yesterday during the col crossing.

Fortunately, we quickly switch to the other side of the mountain, which helps protect us from the wind. At the same time, a ray of sun appears, warming both bodies and spirits. The snow didn’t last long but long enough for snow patches to remain on the ground.

The descent is much simpler, we pass by the magnificent Lac de Nino and arrive at the Refuge de Manganu.

While our colleagues took their time to enjoy the scenery, we preferred to push on; we absolutely need to dry our gear. The sun slowly comes out and allows us to do so despite more hail showers!

We’re halfway through our planned stages, with six left. Three of them will be long because they’re doubled.

The cause for concern is no longer the technical difficulty of the stages (the Corsicans assure us the stages will be increasingly “rolling”) but the weather. Although the next three days should be sunny, it’s very cold and we’re not sufficiently equipped. We’re not the only ones; it’s a big topic of conversation at the campsite. Jonathan lends me a puffer jacket he doesn’t use, which is very welcome.

Since we’ll be descending in altitude gradually, we hope it will be better. The last three days should be rainy and will be very challenging if we can’t keep clothes, sleeping bags, and the tent dry.

Card games with our colleagues, a very enjoyable hot shower, dinner, and sleep. Tomorrow’s route is going to be long.

Saturday, September 14, 2024 – Day 7

• From Refuge de Manganu to Refuge de l’Onda
• Start: 6:29am
• Arrival: 5:51pm
• Duration: 11h22
• Distance: 20.25 km
• Positive elevation gain: 1,491 meters

Wake up at 5:15am, breakfast at 6am, and departure with our colleagues with headlamps at 6:30am. We’re doing two stages today!

It’s very cold but the sky is starry, a sign that it will be nice and the sun will come up.

It climbs suddenly, it’s hard right from the start. We reach more technical sections, including a descent done via rappel using a chain. I wonder what I’m doing here when I’m suspended in the void with a precarious balance.

Even though it’s sunny, the day promises to be tough. I have several blisters on my feet, but the one on my right pinky toe is really starting to hurt, whereas it was just a nuisance until now.

Vincent, on the other hand, who has been doing really well since the start of the adventure, has a sore knee. He gets out his trekking poles for the first time to try to relieve the pain.

After a long descent, we arrive at Refuge de Petra Piana and stop for a quick lunch. Atmosphere: some hunters are having lunch with their rifles propped in a corner.

Jonathan, who we just found out is a physiotherapist, takes the opportunity to examine Vincent and put a strap on his knee. He digs into his impressive collection of Compeed (with every conceivable size!) to replace the one on my toe.

After lunch, the long descent continues. Then a long flat section through woods that allows us to clock up kilometers, which feels good. Finally, a climb, not technical but quite long, to reach the Refuge de l’Onda just before 6pm.

The first half of the GR20 showed us that the rough welcome hikers receive from Corsicans in the mountain refuges is no legend.

Here, hospitality reaches new heights—just look at the kind of posters we came across.

It’s already freezing cold, and it’s becoming a problem not being able to dry our gear, which is all damp from rain, sweat, or condensation. Without dry clothes, staying warm is impossible.

Jonathan takes the time to tend to Vincent’s knee, then deals with my painful blister by popping it. There wasn’t just one, but three in the same spot! Wearing new boots probably isn’t helping. I think I’ll appreciate it—I can already feel it getting better.

Tomorrow’s day should be pretty short. We’ll still leave early to arrive in the afternoon and try to do some laundry/drying. Maybe even find some dry indoor accommodation if possible.

We’ll also review what’s next—there are four stages left, and the weather isn’t looking good, everyone’s talking about it. There’s no point forcing ourselves if the rest of the trail is just misery.

Sunday, September 15, 2024 – Day 8

• From the Onda refuge to the Monte d’Oro hotel
• Departure: 8:01 AM
• Arrival: 3:38 PM
• Duration: 7h37
• Distance: 10.02 km
• Positive elevation gain: 809 meters

Woke up at 6:15 AM. The night was a bit worse than usual, though I’m pleasantly surprised by the quality of my sleep since the start of the adventure (fatigue must be helping!). Breakfast at 7 AM. We dawdle a bit before leaving; today’s route is supposed to be relatively easy.

As usual, no warm-up—it climbs hard right away. What’s less usual is that Vincent isn’t in good shape; his knee isn’t getting better. I’m climbing at the same speed as him, a sure sign he’s struggling.

He starts mentioning the idea of quitting at the end of the day. He thinks he could grit his teeth and finish the adventure, but it would be without any enjoyment, with the risk of complications for his knee.

At that moment, I think it’s the end for me too, I can’t imagine continuing alone for a single second. Anyway, I don’t have room in my pack for the tent, and I’m not even sure I could set it up by myself!

Strangely, even though it’s been hard for me from the start (and still is!), the care Jonathan gives my blisters is helping things get better.

The climb is over, and I start the descent to get a bit ahead of Vincent and our companions who are taking a break (I always descend very slowly!).

Later, I hear Vincent: “JB, wait for me!” This is the fourth adventure we’ve shared, and I’ve never heard that phrase from him.

He tells me that if he quits, I could continue with our companions, an option I hadn’t even considered. Especially since we hadn’t planned to end the stage in the same place (they booked accommodation on a GR20 variant, while we’re heading to the refuge on the classic route).

Above all, I don’t want to impose. I ask them to discuss it among themselves later and give me an answer tonight, and I won’t hold it against them if they prefer to stick together.

I climb a few meters up the mountain to get signal and book a hotel room near theirs—lucky there’s a spot left.

The descent is long, then we hit a long flat stretch that’s restful and almost monotonous after all the difficulties we’ve faced. We take a break by a river for an icy foot bath—does that ever feel good! Even though my feet are less painful, they’re still pretty battered. My new boots kept me from quitting, but it’s taking a toll on my feet.

We arrive at the hotel where we can hand over our dirty laundry. The hot shower, unlimited, with pressure, in a dry environment does wonders!

After agonizing over it, Vincent confirms his decision to stop. He could have tried tomorrow, but it’s a 30 km stage. Tonight, we’re near a small train station. If he quits tomorrow, it would be an ordeal to get back to civilization.

We have dinner with our companions, who after their pow-wow confirm they’re okay with me joining them. Even though I’d come to terms with stopping, without too many regrets, it would have been a shame to quit after all this effort.

Monday, September 16, 2024 – Day 9

• From the Monte d’Oro hotel to the San Patru Di Verdi relay
• Departure: 7:23 AM
• Arrival: 6:00 PM
• Duration: 10h37
• Distance: 28.44 km
• Positive elevation gain: 1,243 meters

Ironically, the night in a warm, real bed wasn’t all that great. I had almost too much space and was too hot in that double bed!

Seeing his extensive first-aid kit, a female hiker asked Jonathan to put cream on her heel. It was in such terrible shape that he sent a photo to doctor friends for medical advice. The verdict was clear: she had to stop immediately and go to the ER. Honestly, I can’t understand how she could keep walking with a heel in that condition. I happened to run into this hiker when I arrived in Nice a few days later—they had to X-ray her to make sure the bone wasn’t damaged!

At 7 a.m., after Jonathan took care of my blisters, it was unfortunately time to part ways with Vincent.

The combined stage today was very long, 30 km, with fairly limited interest. Not much technical terrain, not much spectacular scenery, long stretches through the forest. Climbing as usual every day. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever done a day hike that long in distance. It would have been almost easy without the accumulated effort since the start and my feet complaining more and more.

The arrival at the E Capanelle sheepfold marks the end of the first of the two stages we’re doing today. We stop for a good lunch. We cross paths for the last time with the guys from Saint-Étienne who are staying here tonight; they plan to combine tomorrow’s stages. We’ll learn later that they were stopped by the weather and had to skip a stage.

The end of the day was tough.

Arriving at the refuge, I manage to get a tent despite not having booked one.

Dinner, served at the table, is the best since the start of the GR20. The main course is a pork chop cooked over embers that warms the whole room. Zucchini gratin on the side, delicious!

With three stages left, the conversations are telling: everyone can’t wait to be done!

Between the fatigue, the aches and pains, the weather forecast looking bad, and now… a gastroenteritis outbreak (very common on the GR20)! In the evening, several people feeling unwell (sick well before dinner) organize taxi transfers to leave the GR20.

As for me, even though it’s physically tough and my feet hurt, I don’t have any major injuries. I’m mainly dreading the weather; finishing the last three days wet, soaked, and cold would be really rough. We’ll try to dodge the raindrops!

Tonight, first night without Vincent; it feels weird!

Tuesday, September 17, 2024 – Day 10

• From the San Patru Di Verdi relay station to the Usciolu refuge
• Start: 6:20 a.m.
• Arrival: 2:03 p.m.
• Duration: 7h43
• Distance: 17.47 km
• Positive elevation gain: 1,358 meters

Woke up at 5:15 a.m., slept pretty well even though I feel a bit lost without Vincent.

Southern Corsica is under an orange weather warning, so we leave early to try to deal with the thunderstorms forecast for the afternoon.

We start at 6 a.m. with headlamps up a long climb. It starts raining, but luckily at a light intensity, so we don’t get soaked from the start of the day.

We encounter some technical sections both uphill and downhill, which we hadn’t seen in several days.

Unfortunately, it’s cold, humid, and the fog is thick, blocking any panoramic views, with a few exceptions, throughout the day.

So we arrive at the refuge in the early afternoon feeling pretty happy, but we’re quickly disappointed.

While I’m relieved to be able to rent one of the tents, they’re not numbered, unlike most refuges we’ve been to so far. “Take any free tent.” Not only will we have a hard time finding one, but they’re also in a questionable state of cleanliness.

The kitchen, the only place to warm up, is quite small, and the food offering is minimalist (a single dish instead of the usual menu).

Also, I discover that my sleeping bag is damp despite my precautions (I put it in a trash bag). I think it’s damp from last night’s condensation. With this weather, there’s no way to dry it.

Add to that the accumulated fatigue and Vincent’s absence, and I’m feeling a big dip in morale and can’t wait to be done!

I also discover that one of the lugs on my new shoes is coming off. I must really be hard on my shoes to trash two pairs in a few days. Since Vincent had the good idea to leave me his tube of super glue, I glue the lug back on as best I can; it should hold for the last two days.

I’m counting the days and nights left more than ever. They’re going to be long, humid, tough, and cold, but I’m getting close to the end!

Wednesday, September 18, 2024 – Day 11

• From the Usciolu refuge to the Asinau refuge
• Start: 6:04 a.m.
• Arrival: 2:05 p.m.
• Duration: 8h01
• Distance: 20.08 km
• Positive elevation gain: 1,028 meters

Waking up at 5:15 AM for a 6 AM departure with headlamps. The goal is clear: avoid the storm. Despite some clouds, the sky is fairly clear, which bodes well.

For once, we start with a technical descent that lets us enjoy beautiful scenery during sunrise.

Then begins a steady climb of 600 meters of elevation gain, which goes very well.

Along the way, we meet several hikers who recommend we absolutely avoid the refuge where we’re supposed to sleep. That worries us a bit because it’s not the first time we’ve heard warnings. I’m even more worried because I don’t have a reserved tent.

We consider hiking further than planned to go elsewhere, but it’s not possible.

We start the descent with a view, 600 meters below to the refuge. The descent is terrible, super technical, nerve-wracking. I have to be careful with every step and nearly slip two or three times.

A female hiker from the Strasbourgers’ group will have a spectacular fall. The refuge warden later tells her that in high season, there are two or three helicopter rescues a day to evacuate the injured from this descent!

We arrive at the refuge exhausted and jittery after everything we’ve heard about it.

We are warmly welcomed by a “marker,” a person who paints the red and white marks on the GR20. He’s filling in for the refuge chef for a few days and even gives us a pizza! It might be a few days old, but the hospitality is great!

He tells us we’re the first to arrive and that it’s “first come, first served,” so I’m happy to be able to choose a tent in decent condition.

Other than that, there’s nothing at the refuge, which is still under “repair” after a fire in… 2018! A tiny grocery store, a prefab shelter, two toilets, and two showers in a strange state…

The marker explains there were 100 tents here at the start of the season, and now only 25 are usable. If you arrive too late and there are no tents left, you’re on your own…

The sky is threatening but it’s sunny, allowing me to dry my things and enjoy a magnificent view.

Soon the rain comes and we take shelter in the prefab. We have a great evening. Hikers like us, who are near the end of the trail, have deep conversations. Under the slightly worried eyes of those doing the GR20 northbound and just starting.

Last stage tomorrow: we’ll choose between the classic path, which is easier, or a more challenging alpine variation that’s prettier and would save about two hours of walking. We’ll see based on the weather.

Tomorrow night, I’ll sleep warm and dry in a good bed at a hotel in Porto Vecchio!

Thursday, September 19, 2024 – Day 12

• From Asinau refuge to Conca
• Departure: 5:37 AM
• Arrival: 5:07 PM
• Duration: 11h30
• Distance: 25.51 km
• Positive elevation gain: 1,083 meters

Waking up at 4:45 AM, today we’re doubling up again to finish the GR20.

For the first time since the start, I slept badly. I guess it’s a mix of excitement and impatience to be done.

Alexis tells me he had to tape up his tent during the night because a mouse was using a hole to get in!

This morning, I realize that the soreness I had in the first days is completely gone and my thighs and calves are nicely sculpted.

We leave with headlamps at 5:30 AM, 30 minutes after the Strasbourgers, who are even more eager than us to finish.

The first part is mostly downhill and easy, which is good because the ground is wet.

We arrive at the point where we must choose between the classic route and the variation. We choose the variation, which is tougher but prettier and supposed to save us time on this long day.

The 400 meters of elevation gain are hard, but it’s especially when reaching the summit that I bitterly regret this choice. Even though the view is magnificent, the descent is dizzying.

The day is going to be super long, and I don’t understand why we’re inflicting extra difficulty and risk on ourselves. Every step on this very hard descent, I fear falling and seriously injuring myself.

I’m in a terrible mood, and my teammates deserve a lot of credit for not telling me off.

Just as we arrive at the junction where we rejoin the classic route, we run into the Strasbourgers, who didn’t take the variation.

So we’ve gained 30 minutes on them; it would have been more if I weren’t so slow on the descent. I still think taking the variation was a mistake, but it feels good to be done with it.

Then comes a long easy flat path, a climb, and a long descent to the Paliri refuge marking the end of the first of the two stages we’re doing today. We grab some snacks and, even though it had been sunny, we see ominous clouds heading our way.

At this point, we still have 4 to 5 hours of walking left to finish the GR20. We don’t hang around and hit the trail again. A few minutes later, heavy rain starts to fall. It will last about two hours, more than enough to soak us to the bone.

The weather is astonishing: from our viewpoint, we can see the downpour above our heads and to the left, while to the right, we see the sea and Porto Vecchio under radiant sunshine!

Paradoxically, I find that the rain makes my descent easier—the ground is less dry and grips the shoes better. Shoes that are, by the way, in bad shape; my crampon is hanging by a thread.

After an endless descent punctuated by a few climbs, we arrive at Conca.

I’m super proud. I’ve handled the physical effort, avoided injuries, endured the weather conditions, dealt with my shoe problems, braved the gastro outbreak, continued without Vincent… The GR20 is done!