GR20 in 5 days – 2025
They call it the GR20, the most difficult hike in Europe. Most people take 16 days to cross this island. We had five. This wasn’t a hike. This was a race against the sun, against the clock, against a mountain range that wanted to break us. Day one, a grand beginning. They say the GR20 is the toughest trek in Europe. A legendary trail that carves its way through the heart of Corsica, a spine of jagged granite. For most, it’s a 16-day pilgrimage. For us, it was a 5-day race against the sun, the clock, and our own limits. The journey began in Kalanzana. We set off under the cover of headlamps, their small beams cutting through the pre-dawn darkness, though we only needed them for a short time. The air was already warm, even at 5 a.m., every step forward was a step up, a relentless climb right from the start. This northern section of the GR20 is a raw and rugged beast. The terrain is brutal, a mix of slippery slabs and loose rocks that demand your full attention. The first sunrise of our trip was a spectacle painting the sky in fiery hues. We looked back to see Calvie and its bay, a stunning view that fueled our push upward. By 8:30 a.m., we were already at the first refuge, Ordup. Hikers were just starting their day as we breezed through, pausing only long enough to fill our water bottles before continuing the relentless climb. After conquering the Baka Dea at 1950 m, we finally reached the summit of our first day’s climb. The descent was a steep technical scree path that demanded every ounce of focus. Just before lunchtime, we arrived at the busy refuge to Karatu. We indulged in two big pieces of chocolate cake and refilled our bottles, a small victory before pushing on. Our stop was brief, just 30 minutes, because we still had 6 km to go. The sun climbed higher and with it the heat intensified. By midday it was already 34° C, turning the trail into a furnace, but the views were our constant companion and our ultimate reward. Distant peaks and deep valleys kept us moving one step at a time. The first day was a baptism by fire, a harsh but necessary introduction to what lay ahead. We finished our first stage at 3:30 p.m., leaving just enough time to shower, clean our clothes, and get an early dinner. Day two, the physical gauntlet. The day started long before the sun. We woke up at 4:00 a.m. in Asco, ate a massive breakfast at the refuge, and then stepped into the darkness. We had scouted the path the night before to make it easier to navigate, but it was still a challenge to spot the white and red trail markers in the black of night. Above us, we could see the distant glow of two headlamps, marking the way for hikers who had started even earlier. For that first hour, the trail was a mystery, and we navigated almost entirely by instinct. Today was the day we knew would truly test our limits. Our plan was to cover over 40 grueling kilometers with a staggering 2,700 m of elevation gain. This wasn’t just a hike. It was a physical gauntlet. The trail became more technical with every step. We scrambled over massive boulders and picked our way along treacherous ridges. Each move felt like a new puzzle to solve, a new obstacle to overcome. My legs screamed and my lungs burned, but the rhythm of the trail took over. A steady deliberate pace to conserve every bit of energy for the epic day ahead. Following a tragic accident in 2015 that claimed seven lives, the famous Cir Deasa solitude was closed. The new route led us to a new challenge, climbing to point to Ebles at 2,607 m, just a stones throw from Monteto, the highest mountain in Corsica at 2,76 m. The first climb was brutally steep and technical, and our progress was painfully slow. As we climbed above 2,000 m, we began to cross patches of snow, and the cold, biting wind forced us to put on our jackets. We reached the top just before 7:00 a.m. and met the two hikers we had seen earlier. We didn’t stay long. The wind and cold were too intense, and we had no time to spare. With 35 km still on the map, a detour to Monty Sinto was out of the question. The long descent to the Taietta Refuge took nearly 2 hours, but we were rewarded with a special site, two MULAnons at the beginning of the trail. We stopped at the refuge for a muchneeded Coke and to fill up our water bottles. It was already sweltering even at 9:00 a.m. Next came the second climb of the day. Another grueling ascent to over 2,500 m. The heat was relentless. We climbed roughly 600 m from Aaru and were grateful for another stop at the Siadori refuge. We had our sandwiches and refilled our water knowing we needed to stay hydrated in the intense heat. The beginning of the descent was technical, but soon we reached the bottom of the valley where the trail became less steep. We entered a forest and the blessed shade from the sun was a welcome relief. We passed Burgary Drajul and Hotel Castal D Vjo feeling a small sense of victory but we knew the day was far from over. A single question echoed in our minds. Would we make it to the refuge before they closed for the night? With a sudden burst of energy, we picked up the pace knowing we still had 18 km to go. We managed to cover the next 5 km in just 1 hour. A shocking speed compared to our previous average of 2.8 8 kmh. The path was now crowded with hikers and we powerhiked the final climb of the day. We reached Baka Ara at 1,883 m around 4:20 p.m. It was late and we still had 9 km left. The final leg was a long walk, a short descent followed by a seemingly endless zigzag through the valley. The views were breathtaking. Lake Nino, the winding river, and the charming burgaries. Every building we saw gave us a jolt of hope that we were at Manganu, but it was the third one. There were five agonizing kilometers between the first burglary and our destination. With the water level low, I was able to refill my bottle at a source near the last burgy. We powered through the last bit, arriving just after 6:00 p.m. We were ecstatic when we learned that dinner was at 7:00 p.m., which gave us enough time for a glorious hot shower before charging our cameras, phones, watches, and headlamps. This second day was a long, hard struggle to reach the Manganu Refuge. The north of Corsica is unforgivingly technical, but with every step, the landscape revealed more of its wild, untamed beauty. We finished the day just as the last light faded. This was without a doubt the hardest day on the trail, and I was filled with pride for having made it through. Physically, we feel strong, but our feet and toes are starting to protest. We made it today, but Cona is still 120 km away. Day three, a shift in the landscape. After the grueling second day, we welcomed the slight shift in the trails character. While still incredibly challenging, today’s path felt a little more forgiving. Our goal was ambitious to hike only 30 km from Manganu to Vitzavona by the end of the afternoon. We began our day early as we were the first to wake up at the refuge around 400 a.m. After a great breakfast and packing our sandwiches for lunch, we hit the trail at 4:40 a.m. Our day started with a warmup that was anything but gentle, a steep 600 m vertical climb to Baka Eport at 2,225 m. The morning was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the previous day’s intensity. Navigation was less difficult this time, and we quickly found ourselves alone on the mountain with just a few headlamps flickering in the distance behind us. We saw a few patches of snow, even at the end of June, and reached the summit at 6:00 a.m. The view was absolutely fantastic. We had hiked just 3.5 km, but the landscape was dramatic, very mineral at this altitude. We could see the stunning Lac de Capatello and Lac Deu in the distance, and the surrounding mountains still held onto their white patches of snow. We would continue above 2,000 m for another 2 hours. The terrain was incredibly technical with chains to help us scramble over the rugged rocks. We couldn’t help but wonder how a beginner with a 15 kg backpack would handle this section. Being alone on the trail so early was truly enjoyable, but our progress was slow. We were only covering about 2.5 kmh. We reached our second summit of the day, Baka Reinosa, at 2,150 m, around 7:30 a.m. The 1-hour descent to refuge Petra Pi wasn’t much quicker. We arrived at 8:15 a.m. Having covered just 9 km in over 4 hours and only stopped long enough to fill up our water bottles. We now had 7 km of downhill ahead of us. The start was technical, but as we dropped into the valley, we were finally under the trees. The descent became much smoother and faster. This part of the trail was a stark contrast to the north. As we moved south, the mountains seemed to soften, trading their sharp, rocky edges for rounded forested slopes. We saw many other hikers enjoying a refreshing dip in the river, but we had to push on. The day was still long, and we needed to make progress. It took us just 2 hours for this last 7 km section. The final climb of the day was a 1,200 m ascent over 6 km. It began pleasantly in the cool forest and we filled up our water bottles at some refreshing fountains. We stopped at Refuge Del for a cool coke and to eat our sandwiches around noon. By then, the temperature was soaring to over 30°. The rest of the climb was a real struggle. The sun was relentless and we still had 700 m to go. It was a slow, grueling ascent, but we finally reached Punta Muratello at 2,141 m around 1:30 p.m. We had planned an easier day, but the heat and the cumulative toll of long hiking days were starting to take a toll on our bodies. The descent to Vitzavona began slowly, but we found a second wind as the trail turned into a long path in the forest along the river. Our goal was to arrive early to clean up and charge all our electronics, anticipating the comfort of a hotel we had booked. With our improved pace, we even had time for a celebratory bath in the river to cool down before finishing the hike. The air grew thick with the scent of pine and wild flowers as we reached Vitzavona. It felt like a significant milestone, the official halfway point of the GR20. The hardest part of the journey was behind us and a new equally demanding challenge lay ahead. Day four, a test of endurance. The start of day four in Vitzavona marked a new chapter in our GR20 adventure. The challenging technical climbs of the north were replaced with long continuous stretches that tested a different kind of strength, pure endurance. Today was all about covering distance, 43 km of it, with a significant amount of vertical gain. We set off well before dawn, just after 4:00 a.m., using our headlamps to navigate the streets of Vitzavona as we struggled slightly to find the official start of the GR20 South. Once on the trail, we made great progress in the woods, quickly climbing to the first summit of the day. The path here was far less technical and it took us just an hour and a half to cover the first 6 km, climbing 700 m. The next 10 km absolutely flew by. The trail was a smooth single track through the forest with minimal climbing or descent. We passed many cows and met a few groups of hikers enjoying the early hours of the day. The temperature was a pleasant 25° C and our pace was fantastic. We reached the Burgy Decapanel around 7:30 a.m., stopping only to refill our water bottles while other hikers were enjoying their coffee and breakfast. There’s such a noticeable difference in pace between the north and the south of the GR20. We were now averaging roughly 4 kmh. We hadn’t packed sandwiches today, planning to stop at a refuge for lunch instead. For the next 12 km, the path meandered between 1,300 and 1,600 m in altitude. We continued our fast-paced hiking, all while hearing the unmistakable roar of French Army fighter jets training over the Corsican mountains. The sound was incredible, but they moved too fast for me to capture them on camera. The climb to the next refuge was tough. once again taking us above the treeine. The sun was intense, but these mountains are so beautiful that the effort is always rewarded with a great view. As we arrived at the refuge, we saw a Jean Darm helicopter landing to collect a hiker who had broken his arm, a sobering reminder of the trail’s risks. We took a muchneeded 30inut break to enjoy a delicious salad, fresh bread, and some local ham, sharing stories with fellow hikers from all over the world. It was 100 p.m. and we knew we had to continue. The next part of the hike was a technical section along a series of high altitude ridges. We were close to 2,000 meters again, and the terrain required us to use our hands to scramble over the rocks. Our progress slowed, and the relentless sun burned our skin. We had a 500 m descent to pass over the Cal Lapo, and thankfully it wasn’t technical. Our progress was fast again, but we weren’t done with the effort just yet. The path turns steep once more, climbing slowly into the clouds at first, then onto the final crest. On our way up, we met a struggling hiker who had run out of strength. And for the first time in 4 days, we saw a flock of sheep. We pushed on, finally reaching the top of our last climb for the day at the summit of Baka Formicula at 1,981 m. The final descent to the refuge took us less than 30 minutes, concluding a long 12 and 1/2-hour hike through southern Corsica. The heat was still a major factor, but my body had begun to adapt to the relentless conditions. The views had opened up, revealing vast, sweeping vistas of the Corsican mountains. I ended the day in Aso, utterly exhausted, but with my legs feeling strong. We had officially completed the first 142 km of this incredible adventure. The finish line is now in sight. Just 50 km more to the south. Day five, the final push. The final day was here. A last 50 km push to the finish line in Cona. With no breakfast at the refuge, we grabbed some fruit for fuel, knowing we’d stop for a proper coffee later. The air was cool and the sky was a deep velvet blue. My last chance to take in the silent, magnificent beauty of this trail. We decided to start at 3:30 a.m. with two other hikers who were also tackling the GR20 in 5 days. We figured eight eyes were better than two for navigating in the dark, especially on the technical ridge. After the refuge, we struggled a little to find the correct route, adding a few hundred meters and minutes to the hike, but we were the only ones out there, and we made steady progress along the ridge. At the bottom, we had planned to take a direct route from Bakr Alagnonu to Asa, but a large sign blocked the path. This forced us to add another 6 km, which would cost us a precious hour on an already long day. We picked up the pace and soon lost our friends. The path wasn’t technical, so we moved quickly, passing bulls in heat and a few wild pigs along the way. We reached the Matza Refuge by 6:30 a.m. and then stopped at the Burgar de Croai at 7:00 a.m. for a big breakfast. With 36 km still ahead, we were ready for a long day. We met more wild pigs, and the climb up to Monte Alino was steep, but we pushed on. A quick downhill brought us to the Aseno Refuge where we briefly stopped to refill our water bottles. It was 10:00 a.m. and we were fully committed to finishing in Kanka today. The final section of the GR20 felt like a roller coaster of ascents and desents. Our bodies were exhausted, but our minds were resolute. The trail passed through classic Corsican landscapes, rocky passes, dense forests, and high altitude plateaus. As we walked parallel to the Ruizo Diasa, the site of the famous egg wheels to Bevela, a dramatic series of granite spires, was spectacular and gave us the push we needed. The climb to the village of Bella was steep and a few hikers were visibly struggling with the heat. Our final climb was rewarded with a cold Coke at a busy restaurant. We only stopped for 10 minutes and refilled our bottles at a spring before the next stage. It was 100 p.m. and the village was full of tourists. It was a strange sight to see so many people after our solitary pre-dawn start, but we realized the village is reachable by car. We still had 19 km to go. The beginning of the trail was a pleasant descent through the forest, but it quickly turned into a succession of seemingly endless clims. It was still wild and quiet and we only passed a few other hikers. We could see the east coast of Corsica in the distance and with every turn we hoped to see the first house of Kanka, but each time it was just another climb or a balcony path along the mountain. See, it was hot and we pushed hard on a downhill, overtaking two young guys who then accelerated to keep our pace. Finally, we rounded the last bend and were on the road. We saw the first house of the village and after a 1 km descent, we saw the sign marking the end of the GR20. We had done it. 192 km, 12,000 m of climb. I felt happy but also sad that the adventure was over. We celebrated with a beer and would celebrate more later with other hikers at the hotel. We were all tired but filled with the joy of accomplishment. We had crossed Corsica from north to south on the toughest trail in Europe. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done and the most rewarding.
We hiked the Corsica GR20, the most difficult hike in Europe with 192km and 12651m climb… lots of sun and heat…
24°C at 3h30 in the morning and up to 34°C in the afternoon
23th June 2025 : Calenzana – Asco 26.72km & 3,000mD+
* calenzana – Ortu (11.7km)
* Ortu – Carozzu (8.3kmkm)
* Carozzu – Ascu Stagnu (6.7km)
24th June 2025 : 42km & 2,700mD+
* Asco – Auberge U Vallone (11.2km)
* Auberge U Vallone – Hotel Castel di Vergio (14.4km)
* Hotel Castel di Vergio – Manganu (16.6km)
25th June 2025 : 30km & 2,000mD+
* Manganu – Refuge de Pietra Piana (9.4km)
* Refuge de Pietra Piana – Refuge de l’Onda (10km)
* Refuge de l’Onda – Vizzavona (11.1km)
26th June 2025 : 43km & 2,750mD+
* Vizzavona – Bergerie D’E Capanelle (14km)
* Bergerie D’E Capanelle – Bocca di Verdi (12.8km)
* Bocca di Verdi – Refuge de Prati (4.8km)
* Refuge de Prati – Usciolu (11.1km)
27th June 2025 : 50km & 2,150mD+
* Usciolu – Refuge de Matalza (11.2km)
* Refuge de Matalza – Bergerie de Croci (2.9km)
* Bergerie de Croci – Refuge d’Asinau (7.1km)
* Refuge d’Asinau– Village de Bavella (8.8km)
* Village de Bavella – Conca (20km)