After posting our daily blog yesterday we were invited to
have a glass of wine with some friendly New Zealanders on an adjacent hire
boat. They had experienced an even more torrid time than us at Frontignan, the
other side of the bridge – boats rafted up three abreast, no facilities, desperate
families.
So this morning I walked round the harbour to the office of
the leading French waterways magazine, Fluvial,
which just so happens to be based in Port Ariane and to which I subscribe. The
charming editor gave me a good cup of coffee, and we discussed magazine editing
for a while (from what I could remember of Yachting World). Then I raised the
Frontignan problem, and suggested that the magazine should try to have something done
about it. After all, if in the Netherlands bridges can be raised on demand, why in
France are they limited to twice a day, with the resulting stress and
aggravation for holidaymakers, on whom their economy relies? She seemed
sympathetic.
It was a pleasant encounter, after which we set off back
down the Lez, finding the remote-controlled lock open and waiting for us.
Down on the canal, there was plenty of traffic, but the main
excitement was seeing a bunch of flamingos feeding in the lagoon alongside the
canal. Not easy to photograph, but this gives an idea.
We had to stop, turn round and motor back to get the pix,
and evidently others realized we had seen something interesting.
This canal is quite dull at this stage, so it was pleasantly
distracting to see a group of paddle boarders.
Also surprising to encounter a laden commercial barge, which
beckoned us to overtake. Not many around at this time of year.
There were a few Camargue horses to be seen too, this one
hiding behind a fence post.
Then we were nearing Aigues Mortes, guided in by Lady
Constance’s tower, under which we are moored up among a dozen or more hire
boats. The port staff tried to persuade us we would be happier along with other
private boats, much further along the quay from the town. But we resisted their
suggestion that we should move.
After lunch we set off into the walled town, observing other
sorts of boat trips. Inside the walls, the town was as crowded as Carcassonne.
We checked out the tourist office for possible Camargue exploration,
but nothing appealed. Then we went to a couple of art galleries, one where we saw
a painting years ago that we always regretted not buying. Not surprisingly, it
is no longer there! So there was nothing for it but a beer and a sangria in the
busy main square.
The main city gate is as impressive from the inside as out.
.
Did I mention we paused to stock up on essential supplies –
Camargue Vin de Sable this time.
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