The plan for the day is a loop ride southeast from Aigues-Mortes to see a bit of the Camargue. The Camargue is a huge, roughly triangular area comprising the delta of the Rhone River. On the east it is bounded by the Rhone, and on the west by a smaller distributaries of the Rhone, the Petit Rhone. It is the largest over delta in Europe. Consisting to a large degree of large brine lagoons and reedy marshes, it is an important bird haven, being the home to over 400 species. It is also famous as the home for the freely roaming Camargue horse, one of the oldest horse breeds in the world.
The Camargue is too large to see or do justice to on a single day ride. We'll only be visiting the southwestern part of it today. Our goals are few, really: to see some Camargue horses; to see some flamingoes; to see the Gacholle lighthouse, which we've arbitrarily picked as the turn-back point for our ride; and to see enough of the area to get a feel for what it's about.
The loop we have mapped out is roughly fifty-five miles long, and ultra-flat. We don't have a good feeling for how long this will take us - it depends mostly on what we find along the way to catch our interest. If things go fairly quickly, we're harboring a pair of alternatives for the day: extend the loop to about 75 miles, by continuing on past the lighthouse to the eastern side of the area, following a much larger loop; or try to get back to the hotel in time for the last access to the city's fortified walls, at 3.
If we're going to take up either of these two options though, the weather is conspiring against us. It's foggy this morning, so for safety reasons we hang around the hotel until about 10. By the time we turn off from the highway nine miles later to the near edge of the Camargue, the fog is just beginning to break up.
It was foggy when we awoke this morning, the first day we've seen fog since Urkiola. It was just starting to lift when we started our ride.
We enter the Camargue along a quiet minor road that follows the east bank of the Petit Rhone for several miles, ending at the Bac du Sauvage, the prattle wheel cable ferry that carries us across the river. It's an attractive boat, the ferry, with a design I've never seen before. On the way, we almost immediately start encountering white horses. They're not wild, but we were' expecting to be that lucky. We check this item off our list, and start watching out for flamingos.
I stopped here to take a photo of the blossoms trellises above the dovecote, and then the gentle cooing drew my eyes downward to this. Lovey dovey.
The Camargue bull, another symbol of the region, historically bred for bullfighting. We've seen two of the three symbols we hoped to see today, and we're only a few miles into the ride. Rachael's starting to get antsy, wondering whether we'll really see flamingos here too. Riddle of the day: What's black and white and red all over?
The Bac du Sauvage, a small cable ferry that crosses the Petit Rhone, a small branch of the larger river. It operates year round, departing every half hour during daylight hourjs except for lunch break. It carries foot traffic, small cars, and horse riders. It's an unusual model I've not seen before - a cable ferry powered by paddle wheel.
On the Bac du Sauvage, crossing the Petit Rhone. This is a branch of the Rhone that splintered into a separate channel in the delta (a distributary, my new word for the day). Used as the main access route into the Camargue in Roman times, It is maintained as a navigable channel that ties into the canal system.
Across the ferry, we continue south along the other bank of the Petit Rhone for a few miles and then reach Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mar, a small coastal resort village. Our plan for Saintes-Maries is to seek out a store here and find lunch materials that we'll carry with us for a picnic somewhere down the road. When we look around though, we're surprised at what an attractive place it is, and how many attractive restaurants line it's streets. We weren't that excited by the choices we found in Aigues-Mortes last night, so we call an audible and change our game plan. We'll have our main meal here, and just snack in the evening.
This puts us in a time box though, because we have to get back to the village by 2:30 if we want to be seated for lunch. It's noon now, so we have roughly two hours to bike out the sea dike road to the lighthouse - eight miles away - and back again. We'll have to keep good track of the time. You wouldn't think there'd be any problem - 16 completely flat miles in a bit over two hours - but it's slow going. First, there's the road surface - it's unpaved, and generally quite rideable except for the occasional patch of deep sand - deep enough that pushing through it is a challenge, and riding through on anything but a fat tire bike is really out of the question. Mostly though, it's the landscape that slows us down - it's so starkly beautiful that we're constantly stopping to look around - really breathtaking.
About the time I'm starting to give up on our hopes of reaching the lighthouse, it shows up on the horizon. We reach it a bit after one, spend a few minutes looking around, and head back. We hit our goal on the nose, returning to restaurant row at 2:30. We're the last customers to be seated.
Primping for the trail. We've just departed Saintes-Maries-de-le-Mer, biking across the seaward margin of the delta on the sea dike road. We're only going as far as the first lighthouse, eight miles off, and then will turn back. The road continues on tfor another ten miles, eventually connecting to the paved network on the other side of the delta, but that would require a longer loop than we have time for today.
She primped for this? Actually, it's a fine riding road and we saw many cyclists on it - most of the distance it is hard packed clay. There are a few spots like this though where it degrades to fairly deep sand - difficult to push your bike through, much less try to pedal. The first stretch is fairly short, not too deep, and catches you unaware - two bikers in front of us tried to power through but flopped over instead.
The Gacholle lighthouse, and the destination for our trip out this road. I was happy when it started coming into view, because I like lighthouses and was afraid we wouldn't make it this far. We're in a time box, because we want to make it back to Saintes-Maries while lunch is still being served. We're cutting it pretty close.
The sea dike road across the Camargue. Most of the time it is like this - starkly beautiful, incredibly still, almost surreal if you've been a city dweller all your life. It makes me think a bit of Death Valley, oddly enough. Also Rannoch Moor.
A narrow, salt-filled depression that parallels the road for a ways. The ground is quite soft, almost muddy. We're in a bit of a drought, and I imagine that for much of the year this would be wet, maybe filled with birdlife. And, although it doesn't show it here, it has a pale rose hue when you see it at the right angle.
Over lunch, we discuss the plan for the rest of the day. It's pretty clear in Rachael's mind: she's going to the ornithological reserve to see some flamingos, and she expects me to join her. I'm pretty uncertain, actually - I really envision a zoo, not a refuge. It's pretty clear what the right answer is here though - the reserve it is. First though, I want to spend some time looking around Saintes-Maries a bit - it looks like a charming place, and all we've really seen is this very nice restaurant. Rachael caves in, but only for fifteen minutes. We make it quick, but see enough to convince ourselves that when we come back to the region some year, we'll spend the night here.
Made it! We're back at 2:30, just in time to still be seated for lunch. Lots of choices along this street. This one didn't make the cut though. The one we select is excellent - we split a Niçoise salad and then have fish mains Rachael has tuna, I the loup - sitting in the sun, facing the town. Perfect.
Most of the trees in town are pollarded, like this. They make for great shadow shots, and I imagine a spooky setting on Halloween. This tree is either an extrovert or a bit conceited - it depends on whether it's giving me or itself the thumbs up.
The Le Mer part of Saintes-Maries-de-le-Mer. It's an attractive little seaside town, and where we'll stay when (not if) we come back to this region. We're already discussing possible itineraries.
Rachael was right about the reserve, of course. It is an unmissable destination. Once we're there, I feel like I was nuts to have had any question about it. It is incredible seeing these flamingoes so close up -'they're right in your face, really - just being flamingoes. It's really quite wonderful, and absolutely caotivating.
We can't tear ourselves away. We keep saying we're done, and have to hop on our bikes for the long ride back to the hotel - and then something new and heart-stopping happens, and we're trapped for another five minutes. When we finally do tear ourselves free, it's nearing dusk. We hammer hard, keep on task, and roll into the hotel a few minutes before sundown. A bit too close.
The Camargue features an ornithological park. I was uncertain about visiting it - I like seeing my birds wild - but Rachael insisted. I was agreeable because we haven't seen many flamingoes close up - they're all far off in broad lagoons, at least in the area we covered today. She was right, I was wrong. It happens. It's an unmissable destination. They're wild, but encouraged to stay by habitat management. They're right in front of your nose.
In the ornithological reserve. We're here late in the day, and there is plenty of activity. Sparring, bobbing and weaving, endless cacophony. The place is dense with flamingos when we arrive, but toward the end others start flying in from the surrounding lagoons to congregate for the night. Breathtaking. And, if you don't think bird watching can be exciting, check out Rachael's video.
We couldn't tear ourselves away from the ornithological reserve. We tried several times and then would turn a corner and be arrested all over again. When we finally left it was 5:30. Sundown is at seven, and we've still fifteen miles to ride. No time to stop for photos, but there is always the exception that can't be ignored.
Five miles to go yet. We're on a well shouldered highway, and the last two are on the paved cyclepath along the Rhone-Sete canal. Looks like we'll be fine.
We had a fine, filling lunch, the main meal of the day. Our appetites have expanded all afternoon, and we're no longer talking of finding a crepe shop. Let's split a pizza at Coco's in the walled city. Well, let's split two of them. No salad though, and no dessert. We're drawing a line.
In Coco's, enjoying our two pizzas. I was attracted to the artwork on the wall behind us, reflected in the mirror. I meant to look at it directly when we leave, but when the time came I forgot to turn around.
In Coco's. I was surprised to learn that the Camargue is one of the great bull fighting regions. There's an arena in Saintes-Maries, and they hold events right outside the walls here. I noticed this old poster as soon as I sat down, but couldn't get a shot of it because a couple was dining in front of it. I was anxious for them to leave, but they just kept lingering. I'd about given up, when they finally stood to leave just as our check arrived.
Today's ride: 57 miles (92 km) Total: 1,464 miles (2,356 km)
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Steve Miller/GrampiesOoh, now we are even more eager to visit the ornithological park. Our classic trifecta for the Camargue is horses, bulls and flamingoes. Keep your fingers crossed. Reply to this comment 6 years ago
