Day 61: Aigues-Mortes to Villeneuve les Maguelons

September 17, 2013

We somewhat reluctantly left our convenient motel room. I watched Dora the Explorer until the last moment. Dora, whether in French or English is right at my level, but in French I feel she could improve my grasp of the language dramatically, given a few weekends of watching time.

The name Aigues-Mort probably commes from the latin aquae mortuae, meaning dead or still waters. It was built before 1248, when Louis IX wanted a Mediterranean port for launching crusades, which he did in 1248 and 1270.

Aigues-Mortes, like Avignon, has an entirely intact wall and battlements, with a standard French town inside. We spent a few amusing moments looking for a way in, but ultimately found a gate, entirely unguarded! So Aigues-Mortes was successfully invaded by the Grampies. They saw us coming though, and had hung out all sorts of souvenirs. The list of Camargue specialities comprises about ten basic items. We came away with salt and rice. Also, some very special confections from the Patisserie. I am sitting on the stone pavers by the post office right now, as Dodie mails all this junk home.

The Patisserie featured some giant nougat "pies", and as I stood outside a tradesman asked about our trip. What I liked was his comment that we are now down south and no longer way up north, like at Montelimar. I observed, though, that you could still buy lots of nougat here. It's true, but they are far more into Torro sausage and olive oil in this region.

Aiigues-Mortes occupies a corner of the Camargue, and when Dodie gets out of the post office (much lighter in terms of salt, and cash) we will boot it toward the Mediterranean. Having had, yesterday, little idea of what the Camargue is all about, we have blown by it and are ready to hit another region. We have no idea what that region is about either. But stay tuned. Pretty soon we will be trying our best to vacuum up the spirit of Agde and Sete.

Storming the castle. Dodie corrects me, this is not a castle but a walled city.

Notre Dame des Sablons church, from 13th century

These books outside were not for guests but for condolences for recent deaths. While we were there quite a few townsfolk passed by and signed.

The patisserie attracted us with these chocolare sardines

My bike is getting into the swing of things in France

Tour groups get set to flood the place, but we are outta there

Major salt works exist just outside Aigues Mortes, and tours are offered of the salt flat ecosystems. We stopped by for a look, but did not get on the tour, which would take over an hour. Still we got to buy some stuff in the boutique and answer the ever present UQs from the waiting tourists. One white haired fellow said he had just cycled Paris to Montpelier. At first he considered doing it on his Brompton, but thought better of it. Hmmm.

People are always interested in our heavily loaded little bikes.

The salt works at Aigues-Mortes. There are pink flamingos here!

After we bought our little salt packages for big bucks, they probably said "Go get a shovel and bring in some more salt, I see more tourists coming!"

. ... Our first stop on the Mediterranean was Le Grau du Roi. Grampies have pedalled to the North Sea, the English Channel, the Baltic, the Pacific, almost the Atlantic, and now the Mediterranean! This is the first time I have been here. Dodie briefly visited at the age of 14. So for us, this is a big deal!

The Grampies have reached the Mediterranean!

We could see Le Grau as transitional between the Camargue world and the beach and yacht scene. The Camargue part of it appeared first, as we encountered our first ever bull ring. Then, along some streets was fencing and even seating, all in support of the running of the bulls. Actually, we just missed it, on Sunday. Shoulda pedalled faster.

Le Grau then combined a yacht harbour with restaurants, houses, and streets that seemed again very Spanish or Mexican to us. But in the distance was what we think is a Mediterranean, or Cote d'Azur sight, a large stack of gleaming white apartment buildings, at La Grande Mott, the next town along.

The first time we have seen a bull ring.

Trying for one of those classical Mediterranean shots of fisherman mending nets.

The track we are taking runs right on the sea, along a spit of land that encloses four etangs (ponds).After this spit, there is a further bit to Sete, and then another spit enclosing Bassin de Thau and ending at Agde

What I have called spits are still wide enough to contain towns, and for us to get lost on. So we looked at the towns or got lost, or both. The towns (Carnon and Palavas) laid on touches like palm trees and broad avenues, spacious pine woods, and seaside cottages. We got onto a recently completed bike path, and would have made good time, except for the constant and strong wind. This was the kind of thing where you select a really low gear and crank crank, with little effect. Then you do it some more, for hours. A local, cyclist stopped and told us this continues until Sete, after which, when we hop on the Canal du Midi, it will be ok. Greeaaat.

Along the beach, there we not too many bathers or sun tanners, but there were a few.The beach, like at Grande Mott, has terrific fine sand, beach restaurants, and lots of parking, indicating that in the season this place is packed.

We finally came to a narrowing of the spit of land, where our maps indicated that we could still pass with the bicycles. There was also a second possible way through, along a canal that occupies the spit too. A third way was to hop to the mainland and carry on there. The hop could happen at Cathedrale de Maguelone, a unique 11th century church out on the spit. We asked directions from three or four people, and got different versions of what was passable and where access points were. So far, no one has proved right. We pulled out the tablet, hoping it would know something neither the people nor Google Maps did, and it made some promises, but we did not get to test them - ran out of strength. However we did find two closed, somewhat weird, restaurant buildings on the beach. One has a large covered deck, though the cover is just canvas. The other has a working toilet. And oh, the first also has outdoor plugs with power in them!

So here we sit, with the sand beach and open sea in front of us, on our giant private covered deck, with water, toilet, and all the food we need. Is this Club Med, or what?

We always think about Peter Mayle's tale of the "melon millionaire" in A Year in Province

How about this for a Mediterranean lunch? The figs were labelled "Violet" figs.

One of those ship-like apartments close up

Part of our way down the spit of land by the ocean

The 11th century church in the sands. They are also growing grapes here.

Our path across the spit came to nothing and we were forced to retreat.

Huge covered deck on the open Mediterranean. Had power and toilet too!

Where we gave up and came to rest this evening. We are the purple dot.

Today's ride: 44 km (27 miles)
Total: 4,136 km (2,568 miles)

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