April 18, 2017
Day Twenty Two: Les Saintes Maries de la Mer to Aigue Mortes and Le Gruau du Roi
Before leaving Les Saintes Maries we have one or two additional tidbits about why the place is famous. The three Marys show that the disciples and associates of Jesus were a pretty tight family group. Mary Salome was the mother of John and James (the very James who is the focus of our pilgrimage). Mary Jacobea was the mother of the other James and of Jude. All three were in there for the first Easter, being the first witnesses of the empty tomb.
Sarah, whether or not the daughter of Jesus, has won independent fame as the patron saint of gipsies. At theend of May every year they descend on the town in large numbers. This area, incidentally, was also the site of a large concentration camp during WWII, focussed on detaining gipsies.
The Marys were true Palestinian refugees. In 45 a.d. they were exiled from Palestine and ended in a flimsy boat without oars. That would put them on a par with modern refugees on the Mediterranean.
Although we left Saintes Maries quite early, the Mistral was already blowing hard. We read that the Mistral sometimes drives people crazy. But we can also see a tangible effect of the wind in the way traditional houses are built. They turn their backs to the wind and can be quite streamlined on that back side.
Setting out north toward Aigues Mortes we at first cycled directly into the wind. We crossed the Petit Rhone by a cable drawn ferry. The Petit Rhone is the smaller of two main branches of the Rhone that independently enter the sea.
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
This is no doubt our last day for the white horses, though we still hope to see flamingos for a couple of days more. We spotted several wild horses, not too far off, but were never on a path where we might encounter them face to face. We did notice one standing close by and watching us so carefully. Watching over us, we like to think. Then we came to a group just behind a fence. I walked over to them and several came to me. Patting their noses I could see and feel how amazingly calm they are. They really just radiate calm. Wonderful.
The horses, of course, are just one part of the picture that makes up the Camargue. A lot of the other parts are happily food items, like rice, salt, dry sausage, and wine. We ran into what would be the first of several roadside stores offering a selection of the local products. We were most attracted by the asparagus and strawberries, which are the first fresh products of the fields to be harvested in Spring. But the lady running the store also quickly gave us samples of Muscat, which is something I know nothing about. Others must really know it, because it was available there in all manner of labelled and unlabelled containers.
Because we planned a mail back today we felt a bit of freedom to snap up some other tourist items: Camargue rice, in a white horse decorated bag, and another 10 euros of Montelimar nougat, and a sampler of Camargue salt. Not that all will cost us in postage. The nougat has no hope of making it long enough to get onto the mail back!
Along the route were also numerous wine producers, all using the (maybe AOP) name Vins Sable de Camargue. Indeed, we were passing by immense fields of vines, all planted on the dead flat of the delta and in a very sandy soil. I have no idea if this wine is any good, but then I have no idea if any wine is any good.
People who know me well will find it amazing that I did drink the Muscat. This must be a wild and crazy day, when you add to it the supper food choices reported a little further on in this story.
The distance to Aigues Mortes was not overwhelming, but at times the Mistral was. We had gotten ourselves onto a road with a lot of traffic, though with a fairly reasonable shoulder. But by now we were pointing west, which made the powerful Mistral a side wind. Dodie felt she could not guarantee to stay on the shoulder while being blown toward the traffic. And when finally the shoulder narrowed to nothing, we had no choice but to cross the road and push the bikes, facing traffic.
As is always the case, this problem phase came to an end, and especially when we crossed the Arles to Sete canal. We jumped onto the path beside the canal, and were pleased and surprised to see it labelled ViaRhona. Appartenly this was also Eurovelo 8, Greece to Spain.
The canal path allowed us to easily complete the last little bit and to arrive at Aigues Mortes. Aigues Mortes is a fascinating place. It is one of the very few walled towns where the wall is completely intact. Also, on three sides there are no buildings outside the walls, so the whole walled structure is visible in naked glory.
We entered through the main gate, which is beside an enormous tower, called the Tower of Constance. The tower was completed in 1240. The idea for the tower and then the town came from Louis IX. Basically France needed a port and presence on the Mediterranean. Regions like Provence and Languedoc were then controlled by other interests, so this was a spot to shoehorn in. Louis had to swap some Benedictine monks who were already established here some other land, to even get this toe hold.
Louis also needed this spot as a port for jumping off on Crusade. He departed Aigues Mortes in 1248 for the seventh crusade, and again in 1270 for the eighth. He died then in Tunis, before he could muck about any further in the Middle East.
Louis became St. Louis and is venerated in the town, both at the church of Notre Dame de Sablons and with a big statue in the central square.
The central square, otherwise, is stuffed with open air restaurants. In fact the whole town, like the Saintes Maries, is filled with lively tourist streets. When you bust your way through the main gate you encounter large ice cream shops, left and right. Make it past those, and its a gauntlet of post card and souvenir outlets. Modern warfare is harsh!
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
The name Aigues Mortes means dead or still waters. The surrounding land is salt marsh. Salt production was very important in the middle ages, and exploitation of the flats stems here from at least the 13th century. Today production extends over 10,000 hectares and results in mountains of salt 20 metres high and 400 metres long. Just outside of Aigues Mortes is a major salt production area, called Les Salins. They offer tours of the salt marshes by little train, on foot, or by bike. We settled for the gift shop and for some photos of the salt pan areas. The evaporating waters have a pink colour. We will need some internet and time to find out what is behind that. The tour also promises to show you thousands of flamingos. Now that would be something, but we were already hurry off to Le Grau du Roi.
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
A Grau, we think, is a canal. Aigue Morte lost its status as a sea port as its sea access silted up. The canal (du Rhone a Sete) must have given it life as a river port, but it seems like Le Grau is the real port now. We had a jolly time in Le Grau following Tourism Office signs in circles, but we did eventually find it. Handed a map and a list of hotels, we set about choosing one and trying to locate it. But we were standing right by the super active canal, and on the other side could see at least two attractive hotels among the sea of restaurants and shops.
So over we went to the hotel Belle Vue d'Angleterre, right on the canal. 49 euros (off season rate) produced a very usable room, with toilet and shower down the hall.
We had some stuff we could eat for supper, including asparagus from the roadside stand, but the Coney Island atmosphere on so many streets just outside made it more attractive to sally forth than to hole up munching asparagus.
Ever since the Arles market, where so many vendors were preparing interesting looking paellas, I have figured on trying one, even though I do not like sea food. So today was the day. We found a restaurant with a fixed price offering. You could choose one entree, one main dish, a side, and a dessert, for 13.90 euros. Have a look at the menu photos below - which would you have chosen?
I went for the mediterranean salad - pickled eggplant and zuchinni, plus roquefort cheese, and a horseradishy dressing. I thought that was great. Next up Paella. The waiter seemed to sense that I did not know what I was doing. Actually he could have easily figured it from my trying to order a side of fries with this rice dish. Anyway, he pointed out that it was totally a seafood extravaganza. Sure, I know, I bravely said.
So what came was saffron rice with lots of little moules, scallops, shrimp hiding inside, plus two moules in the shell and two or three shrimp still wearing all their eyes and legs. Many of you will laugh, but I have no idea of how to get a shrimp out of its shell. "Pull off its tail", Dodie cheered me on. "Bite off its head!". I thought of calling our friend Scott, who runs a fish shop, for advice but I had not brought the phone. I think most of the shrimp survived my efforts and then got transferred to the pile of empty moule shells.
As the desert choice I continued to try being adventurous and ordered the Basque cake. This looked humble but was a satisfying short crust with lemon custard inside.
For her part, Dodie went for another Gardiane stew, which was good, but not as good as the one in Saintes Maries, she said. By the way, we are guessing that Gardiane comes from the region we are in: La Gard.
By the time we wer done at the restaurant, all the ice cream shops and attractions along the streets were closed up. We took the hint and are now back in our room. We have taken to bringing our sleeping bags from the bikes. We find once we put ourselves into our own bags, we are like puppies in their box. No matter how new or strange the environment, we are asleep in seconds.
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Today's ride: 42 km (26 miles)
Total: 1,040 km (646 miles)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 1 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |