The climb out of Porto towards the north brings you to the Col de Palmarella, one of the finest viewpoints on the coast. The pass is not high, but it hangs above the sea, and from the roadside you look down on the Gulf of Girolata, a wide curve of blue water bounded by the dark promontory of Scandola.
Girolata, down at the water's edge, is a tiny hamlet that cannot be reached by road. There are a few houses, a Genoese tower on a rock, and a handful of boats in the harbour, and visitors arrive by sea or on a long walking path. It is a place that has changed little in decades, and the tower, one of many built by the Genoese to guard against Barbary pirates, is still in good condition.
The land is steep and covered in maquis, with fragrant cistus, myrtle and tree heather, and in spring the hillsides are bright with flowers. Where the maquis is cut away, red rocks show, the same granite and volcanic stone that make the coast so dramatic. Birds of prey ride the air above the gulf, and on clear days you may see Capo Rosso and the headlands to the south.
The D81 north of Porto is quieter than the section through the Calanche, and it is a delightful ride. The road climbs and descends in a series of long bends, hugging the slope above the sea, with few villages and little traffic. The surface is mostly good, but the road is narrow, and in a few places the edge is crumbling, so keep your attention on the road, not just the view. In the evening, the light on the water is magical.
A small snack stall sometimes operates at the viewpoint in summer, but it is not a reliable stop. Calvi, about twenty-six kilometres to the north, is the next large town, and Porto lies behind you, so the sensible plan is to make sure your tank is full before you leave.