Day 58: Albaron to Arles

April 16, 2025

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Our hotel last night, the Flamant Rose, really made up for any annoyances of the previous BnB. They just said "OK, you are already paid on Booking", your room is #4 with ground floor access to the outside, there is no wifi code, the key is in the door, have a good time", and that was it!

Next door was this shop, that essentially had nothing, and it was the only game in town!

We left town quickly (easy to do) and were among flooded rice paddies. We read that pumping water to paddies like this from the Rhone affects the level and salinity in the Camargue.

These Glossy Ibis on the flooded fields had a tendency to take to the air. They are very good flyers for birds that specialize in wading.

In season, the Pink Lady apples that are grown here are glorious, but now they are just getting going with blossoms.

We started out on the main routes to Saintes Maries and Salin de Giraud, which we had already noted as not so comfortable, because of high speed drivers.

Where there is a shoulder it can be loud, but not so bad.

Where there is no shoulder, we begin to look for alternatives.

We had Google tracks for safer ways, but these had their own drawbacks!

So we basically rode the dotted line into town.

We crossed the Rhone on a bridge we knew well, because we had once stayed in a hotel near it. That time we had walked over this bridge, to go meet up with the Andersons. Andersons and Arles were a potent combo.

This time our hotel was a little closer in. As expected, it had an aire of antiquity, with stone walls and steps, and also a small room, typical of France, especially downtown.

Our room at Hotel De La Mouette. A Mouette is a seagull. Dodie often chides me for calling a bird "just a Seagull", when there are so many varieties. But our hotel maybe does not care about such niceties. Otherwise it could be hotel De La Mouette Rieuse", which is the Black Headed Gull.

Down in the street a small brass band passed by, followed by a troupe of school kids. This seemed a small echo of Semana Sancta, and in a way it was. In Arles at Easter they celebrate Feria de Paques. Flamenco is part of this, and also bullfighting at the area. Since bullfighting now entails just getting a ribbon from the bull's horns, it would be fun to go see. But we are going to miss it by one day.

That the kids are carrying horns, fits in:

Our reason for leaving Albaron expeditiously was to make sure we would be at the famous Arles market on Boulevard des Lices. We set off for the market, and immediately found ourselves in the streets that are so iconically "Arles". I think only in Paris, other than here, am I immediately struck at how "Paris" everything looks. Here, it's buff or mango coloured buildings and washed out blue or green shutters - and every street looks like a painting, by Utrillo, or someone.

The market on Boulevard des Lices is my favourite one. I think of it as the best, though perhaps I could admit that the Valencia indoor market, being in Spain, has better produce. And oh, that street food market in Madrid ... don't get me started!

We have been making short videos all along this trip, mainly for the grandkids. This time I am dropping four of them from the market into the blog here. They are not very polished, but they give a strong impression of what it was like today.

One of the reasons I like the Arles market is that for some reason the city seems to have quite a Muslim population, and they are represented as customers and vendors at the market. Or, I could easily believe, overrepresented. I expect people from Algeria and Tunisia have a fine appreciation of markets, and they also bring their typical foods to the market stalls. If they bring it, we will come!

I am not sure about what the sign this man had around his neck was all about. But he is not the only Muslim looking person in the photo.

Let's take a bit of a walk down the Boulevard.

These strawberries were branded as being from Ventoux, but the variety is not given. They were sweeter than Clery, anyway.

Ever since Dodie had her big stick fight with a Langoustine on the Atlantic coast, we have had an added interest in them.

These are mackerel, maybe. Pan fry? Do you fillet them first? Heads on or off?

These Blood Oranges could be from Spain.

As I was standing by looking for the next interesting market thing to shoot, I was approached by a man for whom my first impression was of being rather large and sort of rough. But his opening words were "Is that a Nikon P950?". That triggered an extensive discussion about Nikon bridge cameras, and which would be best for taking on a bike trip. He apparently owned four different models. In his large and perhaps slightly rough way, the man insisted that what I really needed was the Nikon Zfc. I think he was saying this with a 600mm lens would be good. But it's an APS-C sensor and I am sure it could never match the reach out to birds ability of the P950.

Dodie implemented her trick strategy for ending too long conversations I may get in to, by simply walking on. I can then look anxiously after her, and tell the other person I have to go. That worked this time, and I was glad anyway, because I really don't have the French vocabulary for advanced photograpjy discussions.

This is the man's cell phone. He wanted to make sure I got the right thing.

I was now freed to return to Langoustines - checking whether these ones were going to escape from the paella!

With lunch in mind, we looked at the normally much sought after rotisserie chicken and roast potato stand. For some reason I could not decide on which of the offerings to go for, so Dodie did the "walk on" as I dithered.

It was good, because we "walked on" to a stand that was making Tunisian flat breads, filled with chicken, potato, and cheese, which were a great choice.

Next up, a cheese man. I am always looking to find my favourite cheese, which I know as a Tomme with black peppers spotted throughout. This cheese man told me two things. First "tomme" is not a type of cheese, but merely a size of cheese wheel. Later research has me confused on this, because a tomme cheese is said to be mild, with a natural rind, and a flavour depending on where it comes from. Next the man insisted that not bl;ack but red peppers are the standard for such cheeses, that have any pepper in them. Ok, fine, we bought a slice of a tomme, with red pepper. I still like and will look for my black peppercorn version.

We bought some of the cheese at the lower left.

Next up, nougat! In Spain, the company Vicens makes incredible nougat and similar sweets, in many variants. But in France our standard comes from Montelimar. I asked the lady the difference between her stuff and Montelimar. Here answer was that the Montelimar people use sugar, and she uses honey.

While I spoke to the nougat lady, Dodie was engaged with her husband, who had fruit jelly. In Spain, the quality buffets featured quince jelly like this, but here there were many varieties.

Dodie probably missed the fact that this stuff costs 89 euros per kg! The man was charming, and by the time he was done Dodie had a 30 euro slab of lemon-ginger. I was now done with the nougat explanation and moved across, to express concern that lemon-ginger could be too tangy for me. With that the man prepared a gift of mango for me, for being Canadian!

This looks great, but we already have our filled flat breads!

Another cheese man, this one with official beret. Brebis, by the way, is from sheep's milk.

A near by bench allowed us to munch into some of our treasures.

From the bench we could see this strange building. It is the Luma arts centre. The skin of the building features 11,000 angled reflective stainless steel panels.

In another 1/2 block we walked beside a Gallo-Roman aqueduct. We were too beat by now to climb up and see what it is really all about.

We were continuing through the non- food portion of the market. Dodie jokingly considered the long dress. It does have a slit, to permit cycling!

These stalls are literally the Wal-mart of France.

We now set out to circumnavigate the roman arena. This took us though the incredibly picturesque streets of old Arles. I kept exclaiming "I feel like l am walking through a painting!" While Dodie pointed out that often the painter seems to lack skill. Any lack in the design and upkeep of these houses, however, has long ago become just the atmosphere of the place.

The next gazillion shots give more and more views of that fascinating atmosphere. I will step in only now and then with a caption. See you at the cafe at the end!

There are of course some consistent style elements here - the use of shutters, and the fact that many are blue, for example.

We have reached the arena (ampitheatre). This was built in 90 AD. It hosted chariot races and gladiator fights. In the middle ages, people used the walls for defence, and watch towers were built into them. Houses were built inside. In later restorations, the houses were bought and removed. Today that Feria d'Arles Easter festival features bullfights in the arena.

Souvenir shops around the perimeter of the arena, have images like this, of Camargue:

But Arles is right on the Provence border, so icons like Lavender are big too. In the market, one vendor had a sack that looked like 200 pounds of lavender flowers.

See the added medieval tower at the left?

Saint Corentin Cathedral tower, beside the Arena.

OK, here we are at a cafe, one of zillions in this so typical French town. A daily special costs about 18 euros. Too much for us - we'll stick to bakery sandwiches.

We walked over to the Rhone, before returning to the hotel. There is a great cycle route all along the Rhone, but this time we are going to skip it, with the train from Avignon.

We still have tomorrow, for visiting the likes of Van Gogh sites, cathedrals, and such. We will then shift to St Remy, another Van Gogh hotspot, before taking off into Provence.

Our circuit around Arles

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Today's ride: 20 km (12 miles)
Total: 1,715 km (1,065 miles)

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