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When you’ve got
the chance to escape from the never-ending winter and find some sun’s
rays, you tend to let yourself go. But then, the weather was great in
Lattes, Christine (at the base welcome desk) was charming, and time flies…
By the time we had been shopping and settled into “Campignol”,
Flying Bridge 1020, we were already well into the afternoon. But we didn’t
go far in the evening, and there wasn’t a lock along the way. So…
we took our time and released the hawser gently. We came to the Canal
du Rhône in Sète, formerly (well) named the Canal des étangs
(Canal of ponds).
   We
sailed alongside the ponds: Etang du Méjean, Etang de Pérols,
Etang du Grec, Etang de Mauguio… and in their low waters, a multitude
of pink flamingos paced up and down the mud in long strides, on the banks,
anxious herons were searching in the green waters of the canal, and further
on, donkeys grazed on the short grass and made polite gestures at each
other. A lone white horse (White-Mane?) wandered through the gorse and
heather in a desert land. Evening fell softly and a couple of flamingos
flew on a background of clouds, stretching their long necks. Their strange
silhouettes had something antediluvian about them.
  In
front of the stern, the water was smooth as a young girl’s skin
and the broom along the tow-path added a dash of yellow to all the green
and blue… a touch monotonous. We arrived in sight of the Constance
tower at twilight and moored right under the walls.
At night, Aigues-Mortes looks like
a ghost town. The echoes of footsteps can be heard lingering between the
high pale walls of the enclosure. In the daytime, so lively, at night,
so desolate. You can still hear the faint clanking of armour in the Saint-Louis
army under the high stone gates. Some 850 years ago, King Louis IX set
off at the age of 34 from the foot of the ramparts with his feudal army
for the East. The seventh crusade. You can start to picture the eyes of
the girls in the old city filled with wonder as they watch the young man
and his companions go by. Louis was born the same year as the Battle of
Bouvines, in 1214, and thought about the East for some years. He paid
a great deal for the relics of the passion of Christ, and had the Sainte-Chapelle
built to house them in Paris. At the close of summer 1248, he set off
to fight the Sultan of Egypt…
As the beginning of this discreet spring, we wander through the almost
deserted streets of the Camargue city. The shops are closed and the tourists
asleep or in the countless restaurants enjoying a gardianne de taureau
(beef stew) or rouille de poulpes (octopus and potato salad), two speciality
dishes of the region. Here and there, the cobblestones are strewn with
white feathers. It looks like the angels are flying low…
We go back to the boat. Tomorrow, we’ll make the most of the market
and the sun to take some photos.
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J-F
Macaigne
