The GR20 had been on my radar for a while. After finishing the Continental Divide Trail, I was looking for something closer to home — a European trail that would still challenge me and offer something genuinely different from what I’d done before. So in July 2025, G-Money Cancun and I set off on the GR20. What follows are my recollections of that hike.
Getting to Corsica
Getting to Corsica from Lithuania turned out to be way more complicated than it should be. Basically, you fly to France first, and from there you either catch a ferry from the south — which doesn’t run daily and is a nightmare to plan around — or you fly again, usually via Paris and then Marseille. So instead of just a layover, you end up with a full-on airport stop.
Being the cheap bums we are, we decided not to leave the airport at all, since our next flight was at 7 a.m. the following morning. And that could only mean one thing.
Ok night of sleep prior to arriving in Corsica
First days on trail
Of course, we came underprepared. Somehow, we didn’t fully process that July is peak hiking season — which, in hindsight, is painfully obvious. Middle of summer. Duh.
The first days were brutal. We genuinely didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into, and the heat was unreal — not just hot, but oppressive. Even after the PCT, CDT, and multiple Caminos, I had this moment of realization: I’m a beginner again. The GR20 didn’t ease us in — it kicked me straight in the ass.
All of this felt way harder than it should have, at the same time, we understood – this is not your typical hiking/walking trail
The housing/the refuges
On the GR20, you can’t just wild camp. You’re forced to stay at designated spots, and if you don’t book far in advance, you pay double — €18 instead of €9 — for what might be the coldest, weakest shower I’ve ever experienced. Camping wise, you just pitch your tent anywhere, that €18 does not give much. Think less “mountain refuge,” more “budget prison bathroom.” If you know what a Turkish-style toilet is, you know exactly why this matters.
At times, it felt like the GR20 wasn’t really about the mountains — it was about monetizing hikers. The system is rigid, expensive, and unforgiving if you don’t play by its rules. And the attitude? Let’s just say Corsicans don’t go out of their way to make you feel welcome. You’ll get lectured on how to behave, reminded of what you’re doing wrong — and then charged for it anyway.
Of course, being as cheap as we are — as we were, and honestly, as I probably always will be — the plan was to keep costs down wherever possible. We avoided paying for things that didn’t feel necessary and tried to wild camp whenever we could. Sometimes we had no choice but to stop at a refuge and pay, but in the end, we only did that three nights out of ten.
But having those cowboy camping nights feel good
Although I complain a lot about the refuges and the food they offered, in hindsight, if I’d actually known what the selection would be like, I would’ve brought more of the things I really enjoy eating. Instead, we mostly lived on bread and tuna — if we were lucky. They did sell beer, which was definitely overpriced, but honestly… still nice to have at the end of the day.
Three times oui!
At first, we went back and forth — seeing what we liked, then what we didn’t, then what we liked again. Now, sure, we got the views and those beautiful hills, but at the same time… they’re crowded with tourists. The pre-set tents are everywhere, and that’s the scene you get. So even after sweating to reach the top, it just doesn’t feel like a true wilderness experience.
The hiking
On the real hike, we kicked off properly. Day one was mostly climbing up to the mountain and getting a feel for things, but day two really hit us with what the GR20 is all about — steep climbs, slow going, lots of rock hopping. Definitely the most technical trail I’ve ever done. At times, we were moving at less than 2 km/h, but it was worth it — spectacular views and perfect weather made it fun.
Basically GR20 is marked by white and red flags and you simply follow them 🙂
A lot of scrambling involved, I liked it though
Continuation
That ended up being our daily rhythm. We tried to avoid paying for the refuges when we could — show up, be low-key, maybe grab a little food if needed, and leave early the next morning. The GR20 is usually done in 16 stages over 16 days, but we decided to push it into 10 days, which meant most days we were doing two stages. We’d wake up later, let the first wave of hikers leave, then catch up to them mid-day. After finishing the first stage, we’d chill, grab lunch or a snack, and continue to the next stage. By afternoon, the trail was usually quiet since most people had already moved on, and I really loved that timing — it gave the experience a sense of solitude, even if it meant planning everything strategically.
Random selection of shots
These are the typical crowds if you time you do not time your day properly
Or a downhill can look like this
However, we met this group of four Germans who were hiking the GR20 as well, and for some of them, this was literally their first proper hike ever. Doing a trail like this as a complete beginner can honestly put you off hiking for life — it’s that intense. Funny enough, we actually took a video of one of the German guys walking on either day 4 or day 5, I don’t exactly remember which, and you could clearly see how much pain somebody can be in while trying to tackle these mountains. If you’re in that much pain, it’s hard to imagine that you’re enjoying the scenery — at that point, it’s really just about surviving.
You do NOT want to be this guy, especially with half of the hike distance ahead of you
Flat sections
Uh, so finally, after those first few brutal days of constantly going up and down, carefully watching every step, we finally hit a flatter section. And honestly, I realized how much I missed those stretches where you can just cruise along, listen to a podcast or some music, and really take in your surroundings. Up until that point, the views were incredible, but to actually enjoy them, you basically had to stop hiking, because moving forward while watching the scenery was just impossible — the terrain demanded all your attention. On that flatter stretch, we still covered about 30 kilometers and gained around a 1000 meters in elevation, which, compared to PCT or CDT standards, is actually below an average day for us. But it felt so good — just having that more relaxed day. And our little bonus was that we could jump into every water pool, stream, or rushing river we came across. That was amazing, way better than any of the lukewarm, crowded showers at the refuges.
Camping in designated areas
You know, back to the hate report, one of the things we really disliked was that sometimes you were forced to stay in those alberges — there was simply no way around it. One day, for example, we got caught and couldn’t push on, so we had to pay 18 euros each for camping. And honestly, we felt ridiculous because the area where we were allowed to pitch was literally gated. Dozens and dozens of tents were packed in there — some preset by the camp operators, others from hikers showing up with their own gear. You had to be super careful not to trip on someone else’s tent, and that completely killed the sense of wilderness. Many people snoring, you’re supposed to be out in nature, away from people, not sleeping five meters from some random stranger. But apparently, that’s just how they run things in Corsica.
Oh, wow, very wilderness, much wow, many nature
But, of course, we have to balance the hate with some positives. At those alberges/refuges whatever you call them, most of the time, there was a little area outside where you could cook on a gas stove or a pot — so you really only needed to buy a few things from their tiny shop. Their selection was limited and not particularly great, so what we did was simple: ravioli and tuna, mixed together. And honestly, it turned out to be a pretty solid meal. Not as bad as I had feared, definitely filling — maybe a bit too filling, and, well… I’m fairly certain I was producing a lot of gas afterwards.
I love that hiking makes me excited for these meals
Epic ridge scenery
Well, naturally, the trail was epic and the scenery kept changing. After those brutal first days, we finally hit a flat-ish day — felt amazing just to cruise a bit. Then we got onto the ridge, and honestly, that might have been one of my favorite days hiking in a long while. Being up there, on top of the mountains, seeing clouds just hanging on one side while the other side was all humid and sweaty… every time we climbed back up to the ridge, the view was insane. Clouds on one side, sun on the other — completely unreal. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like that anywhere else.
Last video is just a random shot I wanted to share with you
Overall conclusion
GR20 has been on my radar for a while, and it definitely lived up to the hype — probably the most technical trail I’ve ever done. Some sections were brutal, full of steep climbs and rock hopping, but the views made it worth it. Sleeping at the refuges felt like being herded sheep, so sometimes we bent the rules to get a little space away from the crowd. High season is a hard pass — too many people, too little freedom.
The Corsican people? They can look mean and make you feel uncomfortable, but they’ll happily take your money. The refuge system itself makes sense — it’s designed to have everyone camping in one spot — but in reality, it’s extremely annoying. It’s clear they built it to extract more money from hikers, and that frustration shows.
We covered 200 km with 14 km of elevation gain. The trail itself is insanely rewarding, but the community was weak, and the structure of the trail definitely leans toward making money off hikers.
Trail – 9/10
Community – 4/10
Refuge system – 5/10 (makes sense, but extremely annoying)
Greed from the trail structure – 8/10
Money-wise, apart from the ~400 € flights, I spent roughly another 500 € on food. Sounds like a lot for a hike, but keep in mind you’re buying everything at the refuges — a can of tuna can go for 5 €, a Coke for 4 €, and nothing is cheap.
Oh, and a fun warning: on the last night of the trail, I got food poisoning from the local cheese. Woke up vomiting three times and felt utterly weak the next day. So yeah… watch out for that smelly Corsican cheese.
Extra random pictures from the trail below
