What better way to unwind than to sit on a terrace overlooking the Mediterranean with a plate of local cheese, local bread, fruit and Corsican wine, listening to Van Morrison on my Discman watching the sun set somewhere over distant America? What a wild world. I had forgotten that Corsica has its own fare share of Wildmen. When I was sitting on the plane crossing the northern Mediterranean, I glanced at a couple of headlines on the newspaper that a man was reading in front of me. The lead story of Corse-Matin was the execution by the state of a famed local bandit. I had forgotten about the local bandits. 'Do I really want to drive across this wild island?' I ask myself. In fact, there were a co
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