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Red granite cliffs of the Scandola reserve rising straight from the Corsican sea
Regions of France

Corsica

Don't call it another French coast. This island doesn't ask for your attention — it commands it.

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The island

Corsican first. French second.

A land where memory is not archived but sung — in polyphony that fills stone churches, in knives forged by hand, in a language children still learn before French. The mountains fall straight into the sea, and the scent of the maquis carries on every breeze. One hour from the Riviera, and a world apart.

9 AOP wine regions2,000-year-old olive treesOne of Europe's first constitutions1 hour from the Riviera
The medieval old town of Bonifacio perched on white limestone cliffs
A citadel on the edge of the sea

Built to hold the line.

Bonifacio clings to a white limestone cliff the way Corsica clings to itself — proud, weathered, unbowed. Genoese citadels, carved menhirs at Filitosa, and the birthplace of Napoleon at Ajaccio: this island has watched empires arrive, and outlasted them all.

We take you past the parapets the guidebooks stop at — the old town before the day-boats dock, a private visit to an artisan knife-maker's forge, a candlelit dinner inside a Genoese tower kept for you alone.

A rustic Corsican charcuterie board on warm linen
Earth, sea, and soul on one table

The Corsican table.

You taste the maquis in the cheese, the sea in the oyster, the mountain in the boar. Nothing here is imported.

Corsican cured charcuterie with thyme on a board

The charcuterie

Figatellu
Smoked over chestnut wood — the taste of the island in one bite.
Coppa & lonzu
From pigs that roam the chestnut forests wild.
Brocciu
The fresh ewe's cheese in everything — savoury and sweet.
A lemon-glazed cheesecake topped with lemon and mint

The sweet

Fiadone
A light brocciu cheesecake, lifted with lemon zest — the island's own.
Canistrelli
Crisp aniseed biscuits made for dipping in wine.
Cédrat & fig
Jams and liqueurs from fruit found nowhere else in France.
A cocotte of dark slow-braised meat with rosemary

The mountain kitchen

Civet de sanglier
Wild boar braised in myrtle and red wine — a whole afternoon in a pot.
Cannelloni au brocciu
Filled with cheese and mint, the way grandmothers still make it.
Miel AOP
Honey that changes with the maquis, jar by jar.
A glass of white wine backlit by golden light over a vineyard

The hidden vintages

Patrimonio
The oldest AOP — bold Niellucciu, mineral Vermentinu. Poured by the winemaker.
Sciaccarellu
Ajaccio's peppery red, grown on volcanic stone.
Clos Canarelli
Amphora-aged whites now poured from Paris to Tokyo.
A boat cutting a white wake across the sea below Corsica's red headland
Every Corsica we design is different

No two of our journeys are the same. Tell us yours.

Speak to Marie
The Gulf of Porto — red headlands, deep sea and maquis hills
The Gulf of Porto

Where the mountains fall into the sea.

The Scandola reserve is reachable only by boat — guarded, as if by choice. The Calanques de Piana burn red at dusk; the Bavella Needles rise inland like a cathedral of stone. Here luxury is measured in remoteness, in silence, in knowing you are somewhere few have truly seen.

A sketch of what we\'d build you

Journeys we've made here.

Six we've designed here. Open one to see how it goes.

Bonifacio's old town and Genoese tower along the white cliffs, from the sea
The town on the cliff
Bonifacio before the boats
See the journey
A red granite sea arch over turquoise water in the Piana calanques
Reachable only by sea
The red cliffs no road can reach
See the journey
An empty Corsican cove with white sand, red rocks, pines and turquoise water
A private cove
Turquoise, pines, and no one else
See the journey
The golden-stone hilltop village of Sant'Antonino on granite outcrops
Up in the granite
The village and the knife-maker
See the journey
A Genoese watchtower on a headland above brilliant turquoise water
A tower kept for you
Dinner in a Genoese tower
See the journey
Nonza village and its Genoese tower above the sea with mountains at sunset
The wild north
The black beach under the tower
See the journey
0104
Marie Tesson, founder
A travel house — not a tourism office

Why us.

A tourism office sends you where the day-boats go. We hand you to the people who are Corsica — the winemaker who pours from the amphora, the shepherd who makes brocciu at dawn in the Niolu, the boatman who knows which grotto only opens to the sea. On an island that shares itself only with those who come with care, twenty-five years of trust is everything.

iTwenty-five years of real relationshipsNot suppliers on a commission — friends who open their own doors.
iiAround fifty journeys a year, never off-the-shelfEach built from nothing. We turn most inquiries away.
iiiMarie reads every inquiry herselfA real conversation, and a reply within two days — or nothing at all.
Start a conversation
Begin here

Tell us the Corsica you want to feel.

A grotto reached only by boat, a Genoese tower lit for you alone, a winemaker's table with the maquis in the air and granite underfoot.

Marie reads every inquiry herself and writes back within two days.

No itinerary · No brochure · A real conversation
Write to Marie