Campervan Therapy

Seán does love an App and this one, the Avenza Map App, proves essential when we decide to climb Monte Barbatoia in Lacona to descend to Napoleon’s Villa in San Martino as the walking signs play hide and seek with us.

We climb up the boulder strewn path from Lacona, which runs like a rust scar through rosemary scented maquis. Elba is known for its mineral wealth. Here we can see the iron ore stain the rocks.

The sun beats down on us as we scramble upwards. We haven’t yet found a sign to tell us we’re on the 215 towards San Martino so I’m delighted that Seán is half-human, half-mobile phone as his Avenza maps tell us we’re going the right way.

The view is worth the climb. Monte Cristo’s volcanic cone seems to float way out on the blue sea; the cliffs are russet rock, the wooded slopes impossibly green with umbrella pines. The reddish trunks and scarlet fruits of the strawberry trees are yet another delight for the senses. Another of Seán’s favourite apps, Merlin, tells us that we’re listening to the Eurasian black cap, and the European robin sing.

Every time we think we’ve reached the top of Monte Barbatoia, the mountain top tricks us by disappearing just out of reach. Finally, the hot, sticky climb lands us in holm oak and black hornbeam forest. It’s cool on the skin as the track levels out.

The air smells more moist and pink cyclamens shine under the dark canopy. Everywhere there’s evidence of wild boar, their footprints in mud baths, soil churned up under trees. I just hope none of them decide to join us.

We reach the 214 track and then the fun starts as we slip-slide down what’s more like a dried waterfall than a track. I grab onto branches to stop an undignified descent on my backside.

The drive up to Napoleon’s Villa in San Martino is elegant, and pine-tree flanked. The pastel lemon house is surprisingly modest, even though it is perched on top of the later colonnaded gallery.

From its black and white floor tiled balcony, we’ve a great view of Portoferraio perched on its rocky outcrop, the shining east bay just below us.

Stone eagles adorn walls, balustrades, reminding us of Napoleon’s aspirations to replicate the Roman Empire. But the inside of the house is surprisingly delicate. The frescoed rooms, gentle, except for the depiction of the Egyptian campaign.

On the ceiling of the main room, two doves hold a ribbon in their beaks. Apparently, Napoleon supervised the painter himself as he wished it to represent the distance between his wife, Marie Louise, the Duchess of Parma, and himself while he was on Elba, the ribbon symbolising their unity even though they were physically far apart.

I was touched by the tale of two of his loyal generals who stayed with him for the ten months and when he was exiled to Saint Helena accompanied him there. He didn’t sit around twiddling his thumbs while ruling Elba though. He organised the building of new roads, reopened iron mines, developed education and health facilities.

All that was left to do now was to climb back up Monte Barbatoia and skid down to Lacona again.