Day Twenty Three: Le Grau du Roi to Sete

April 19, 2017

We listened on and off through the night as the Mistral rattled our hotel. We had otherwise found it to be least in the morning and to gain intensity as the day went on. But here it was at full power or more, before dawn. We toyed with the idea of sitting one day out, but since our general direction would put the wind behind us, we decided to give it a try.

The first order of business, though, was breakfast. Dodie had on offer only some yogurt and some potato chips, bought at Salins to test out the salt. Here is where the guy who thinks chocolate eclairs are normal for breakfast balked at chips. Ok, yogurt then, and the assumption that we would find some real food in the street.

Outside the general temperature was quite cool, about 8, but the howling Mistral made it feel much cooler. After a few pedal stokes in the direction where bakeries would be found, Dodie suddenly veered and seemed ready to charge down the beach trail into the never never. "Whoa, whaa!" I exclaimed, "Bakeries are thataway". "Don't need a bakery", was the reply "You had your chance at chips and rejected them."

Needless to say, five minutes later we were in a bakery, with plates of croissants, chaussons pommes, coffee, etc. Dodie had thought to hold me off until we reached La Grand Motte, 5 km down the beach. No such luck. But hey, at least there were no eclairs today.

Le Grau du Roi in terms of architecture and layout had fairly grand multistory buildings set out along the canal, with narrow streets devoted to ice cream and restaurants behind. At least that was the arrangement near the fishing harbour. Then along the beach were large white condo type buildings. All this was far from the crumbly white villages along the Rhone, and from the low whitewashed leaning to pastel buildings of Les Saintes Maries. Our bikes as usual, despite their low ground speed, move faster than our minds adjust to the changing surroundings. We had moved with seeming great speed from Provence to Camargue to Mediterranean holiday, to a real Mediterranean sea port with Le Grau.

But La Grande-Motte, just down a spit of land from Le Grau, upped the ante again. In La Grande-Motte the building style is tall and white and angular, no doubt to look like ships or sails.

This is an area of spits of land, brackish lagoons, and canals, all of which help to prevent an orderly or easy to understand layout. In la Grande-Motte I had trouble knowing which way was which, and I did not seem to recognize downtown as such even when standing in it. The only constant was the Mistral, reliably blasting down from the north.

We followed the circular Tourist Information signs at La Grande-Motte until we spiraled in and hit the (closed) location. We were 40 minutes too early for it to open. However an employee came along and opened the door so she could sneak in and presumably get set up. We held her up long enough to ask just one question: "What is the fastest way out of here?" (and do you have a bike way for that).

Actually La Grande-Motte anchors the start of a rather nice path that runs down a spit of land separating a lagoon (Etang de l'Or) from the sea. The path runs beside protected dunes that hide the sea, but there are frequent beach accesses (perhaps 70 in 8 kms). The beach accesses have associated parking lots, all empty in the bitter wind. But when I briefly explored one access, I found some sun bathers. I guess in a protected spot it's ok. They made me feel silly in my two sweaters and wind breaker, with hood up.

It was along this path that we encountered one more fellow long distance cyclist - Nora, from Belgium. Unlike most others, Nora had taken the initiative in pulling over to have a chat. We got a lift from talking to her. She was so young and full of energy and optimism. and she had planned a long trip, extending beyond Italy to the Balkans, and then who knows where. Naturally we invited her to come visit Vancouver Island, though we as usual had to caution that it would not be worth the trip just for cycling. Only a very few to whom we have extended an invitation ever follow up on it. But maybe. We would enjoy seeing her again.

Palm trees illustrate that this really is a different region from Provence or Camargue

The beach path ended at the moderately sized town of Carnon, which caught our attention with a church somehow linked to Jean-Baptiste and the Sovereign Order of Malta. This is a society founded in 1048 in Jerusalem, with a military leaning to protect Christians. In this they sound similar to the Knights Templar. We will have to study up on the Maltese, starting here.

The next major town along the soit was Palavas Les Flots. This town has a section much like Le Grau, with a canal full of boats and lined with interesting buildings and businesses. There was also a church containing the remains of St. Florence of Agde. We do not know much about this saint, but her wax figure was lying dramatically in state just inside the church door. The case that she was in proclaimed in permanent lettering the names of people who had brought her from Rome, and the name of their yacht, used for the transport.

I thought that fittingly for someone that is dead, Florence looked rather ill in her wax represention.

After Palavas the spit of land we had been following narrows further and the layout of things becomes rather more complicated. Starting from the sea and looking inland, there is a sand spit, then a lagoon, then the Rhone to Sete canal (dug out of already inundated land - just deeper, and with embankments on either side), then more lagoon, then solid land.

Four years ago we had started down what turned out to be the sand spit. It had a fine path until it didn't. We were trapped out there. What happened four years ago was that we found a closed beach restaurant and set up our tent on its patio, facing the sea. It turned out to be one of the most memorable nights of that trip. Totally isolated and quiet, right by the Mediterranean, and with the quacking of what turned out to be the flamingos in the lagoon behind.

This time around we were eager to not make the same mistake, no matter how much fun it ended up being. So we did a lot of GPS checking and people asking. This landed us correctly on the rough but passable tow path on one side of the canal.

You can see the importance of choosing the correct spit to ride, if you want to exit on the other end.

Before setting off on the path, though, we stopped in at the Cathedral of Maguelone, just outside of Palavas. This is an 11th century building with of course a long history, including a visit from Urban II in 1096. In the 1800's the land here was bought by the Fabrege family, who contributed to restoring the church. Inside now are to be found tombs and ancient inscribed slabs that they presumably found lying about. The site is currently run by a foundation that runs a restaurant and tends grapes on the lands.

It looks like the tomb in the previous photo is from 1296.

On the catherdral grounds. No reason for this photo except for peacock blue.

We were a little nervous about our path down the spit being the right one, one that would not dead end. But it was clear we had chosen wisely, and we sailed (or rather, bumped) along until we almost reached our goal - Sete. The thing is, the path petered out in the sense that it was not going to be a straight shot right into Sete. Rather, in the general vicinity of Frontignan Plage we started to get trapped by unbridged gaps in the tow path and by roads that were only access ramps to the big motorway. We started to do a lot of backtracking and GPS checking. But it was getting late, and we decided to go into Frontignan, find a hotel, and work on solving the riddle of how to get to Sete only the next day.

So we went into Frontignan and followed the circular signs to the closed Tourist Information. A sign on the front listed only three hotels, one of which we had already passed, so we knew where that was. The other two were mysteries.

We went to that one hotel and it was ... closed. No, wait, there was as phone number. We called that and after a while a lady appeared. Everything was fine except that the only place to put the bikes would not be reopened until 9 the next day. Dodie was just not having it. She likes to leave early and just could not see throwing any valuable hours away.

So with the day ending, we sallied off in the direction of Sete. That is, direction of. Even with GPS, it is not that easy to actually find the safe way. We started down a canal path. But a few km along the way was barred, and with a no bicycles sign. Crap! Fortunately a lady came along and said "Oh, don't pay atention to the sign, nobody does. Just carry on, don't worry. They just don't want you to fall in the canal". And she was right. It was not all that long before we were in Sete.

Here was a different style of buildings again. Still grand ones by the canal side, but different from le Grau. Importantly, these building were not filled with restaurants and hotels... In fact, hotels seemed very scarce. We checked one or two out - too expensive? We stood at the door of a flophouse type one and phoned in - no vacancy. So in failing light we wandered on. Finally found one. No concept of too expensive now, anway they had a nice place for the bikes on the patio.

By tomorrow we expect to have left the Mediterranean and be buried in the Midi. Drat, I was just getting used to it!

Lame hotel - need to phone to get a reception, and does not wake up until 9.

The expensive solution. At least they will release our bikes at a reasonable time.

FLASH: THOSE RED SALT PONDS

According to Wikipedia:

Algae and colour of evaporation ponds

Due to variable algal concentrations, vivid colors – from pale green to bright red – are created in the evaporation ponds. The color indicates the salinity of the ponds. Microorganisms change their hues as the salinity of the pond increases. In low- to mid-salinity ponds, green algae such as Dunaliella salina are predominant, although these algae can also take on an orange hue. In middle- to high-salinity ponds, Halobacteria, which is actually a group of halophilic Archaea (sometimes called Haloarchaea), shift the colour to pink, red and orange. Other bacteria such as Stichococcus also contribute tint

We actually think it' to camoflage the flamingos.

Today's ride: 66 km (41 miles)
Total: 1,106 km (687 miles)

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