The next morning, we arose with foggy heads and wonderful memories of the night before. The weather didn't seem too imposing, so we set off to see a different side of Provence...Arles and the Camargue. I have been fascinated with this area's reputation for ruggedness, gypsies, bullfights and in the Camargue, wildlife.
First stop, Arles. Rugged is a good word for Arles...the grey-blue buildings don't have the sweetness of the towns in the Luberon or Les Dentelles. You could say that Arles wears its heart on its sleeves, where as most of the other Provencal towns we have visited, coo and flirt with you into loving them.
It was a blustery day (yep, that pesky mistral) and the blue skies were peppered with clouds that took turns looking either menacing or pretty, depending on your point of view. After parking the car, we entered Arles through the Porte de la Calverie. The town is as promised, both pretty and gritty. To my amusement, one of the first things I noticed, besides the architecture, was a gentleman sporting a big ol' University of Michigan shirt. Being that U of M is my undergraduate alma matter, it gave both myself and DH a case of the silent teehees. It's a sad confession that my first five minutes in Arles were devoted to shadowing a midwestern fashion statement so I could get a good photo on the sly. Apologies to anyone offended and to anyone who gets my humor, enjoy the chuckle.
The main reason we wanted to visit Arles was to see Les Arenes. Les Arenes (the roman amphitheater) was built around the 1st or 2nd century AD. It had been under renovation during our previous two visits- which is part of the reason we didn't visit before. It's quite an impressive structure and it completely dominates the center of town. There is one other arena in Provence, in Nimes which we had enjoyed on our HM during the Festival des Ferias.
At Les Arenes, we wandered through the interior of the arena, sans audioguide. It was fun to imagine what it would have been like in the Roman era, and I harbored a yen to see live bullfight. The arena still hosts bullfights to this day, with a crowd capaciy of 12,000. Meandering throught the corridors, it was amazing to see day-old fresh hoof prints from the bulls in the sandy dirt. I can feel the testosterone. As we climbed each tier, amazing views opened at nearly every turn. I think my favorite was from the highest tier, overlooking the town and the Rhone river. We also took some time to visit the ruins of Arles' Theater Antique. It's a small shadow of what we saw the previous day in Orange and is currently being renovated by several organisations, including UNESCO and the french government. After a little more exploration of the town, we decided to make our way to the Camargue.
It had been recommended to us to head towards Stes. Marie de la Mer, but I made a last minute decision to head down the D36 route towards Salin de Giraud. My Lonely Planet guidebook metioned that you could see flocks of flamingos on this route...and well, I wanted to see flamingos, because it's just about the last thing most people would think to look for in France. Most of the drive down was pretty but desolate. Vast expanses of grassy fields flanked us on either side, and an occasional Mas thrown in. As we got closer to the southernmost part of our journey, the fields turned to marshes and the wind became stronger. It tossed balls of seafoam up and over the road. The seafoam looked like snow as it bounced across the road due to the extremely high salt content of these waters. We spotted our first flock of flamingos just before Salin de Giraud!
At Les Arenes, we wandered through the interior of the arena, sans audioguide. It was fun to imagine what it would have been like in the Roman era, and I harbored a yen to see live bullfight. The arena still hosts bullfights to this day, with a crowd capaciy of 12,000. Meandering throught the corridors, it was amazing to see day-old fresh hoof prints from the bulls in the sandy dirt. I can feel the testosterone. As we climbed each tier, amazing views opened at nearly every turn. I think my favorite was from the highest tier, overlooking the town and the Rhone river. We also took some time to visit the ruins of Arles' Theater Antique. It's a small shadow of what we saw the previous day in Orange and is currently being renovated by several organisations, including UNESCO and the french government. After a little more exploration of the town, we decided to make our way to the Camargue.
It had been recommended to us to head towards Stes. Marie de la Mer, but I made a last minute decision to head down the D36 route towards Salin de Giraud. My Lonely Planet guidebook metioned that you could see flocks of flamingos on this route...and well, I wanted to see flamingos, because it's just about the last thing most people would think to look for in France. Most of the drive down was pretty but desolate. Vast expanses of grassy fields flanked us on either side, and an occasional Mas thrown in. As we got closer to the southernmost part of our journey, the fields turned to marshes and the wind became stronger. It tossed balls of seafoam up and over the road. The seafoam looked like snow as it bounced across the road due to the extremely high salt content of these waters. We spotted our first flock of flamingos just before Salin de Giraud!
My dutiful DH stopped the car so I could capture my Kodak moment. As I tried to open the car door, the strong winds battled against my efforts for superiority. Zut alors! I had heard the Camargue was windy, but this was more than I had imagined. I eventually won the battle, and my husband and I spent a few minutes playing with the wind as it helped us defy the laws of gravity. Flamingos and silly american couple captured on film, we hopped back in our car to see what lay ahead.
About ten minutes later, at Salin de Giraud, we came upon the largest amount of salt we had ever seen in our life. The huge mountains of salt seemed to stretch for miles. I'll never look at my coveted french sea salt the same way again. At the very end of the road was the Plage de Piemanson. As we turned on to the beach, I was amazed to see hundreds caravans stretching for miles. There weren't many people around, but apparently, this is quite the vacation spot for quite a few people. We drove a ways down, and both had our second laugh of the day, as we spotted a man lounging naked on a beach chair while reading the paper. I am all in favor nothing partial nudity and nude beaches, but I had to wonder how anyone could enjoy being naked on that day in that setting. The amount of sand that was being whipped around gave me welts...and I was fully clothed!
We then headed back north along the D36D, alongside the Etang des Vaccares. This was the prettiest part of our drive...and we saw many more flocks of flamingos, a bull or two and a smattering of horses.
Back at Le Vallon that evening, we had another picnic dinner by the pool. An earlier rainstorm created amazing vistas of the sunset sky. A little wine, some good simple food, and a living breathing painting, courtesy of mother nature..yet another day in heaven.
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