We made a leisurely start to the day, though a sharp breeze
blowing us onto the pontoon made departure a little difficult. Fortunately the
Brits moored ahead of us had a sturdy bowthruster and left first. Once they
were gone, with more space for manoeuvring, we got away quite easily.
It was only about 10 km to the lock, the first of the day
and the last big Rhône lock we will be encountering in this direction. It was
all ready, but the lights were against us and we had to wait half an hour or
more for this monster (an enormous "dumb" barge being driven by a pusher) to arrive and take its place up front. Then we and the Brits,
who had also been forced to wait, slid in behind.
Talking of monsters, this is the castle at Tarascon, which
is subject of a juicy legend passed down from generation to generation to generation. A bit like Facebook or Twitter, so the result may well be
fake news – who can tell?
Anyway, it seems that a monster called Tarasque lived in the
river around here about two thousand years ago, coming out into the town at
night to eat children. It also killed people trying to cross the river. Fortunately Saint Martha (not yet a saint, I
suppose, but soon to become one) turned up and calmed down the monster by
winding a scarf round its neck. She then led it into town, all quiet and docile,
whereupon the population promptly massacred it. It just goes to show: if you
are a monster, don’t trust saints.
The castle was actually built between the 12th
and 15th centuries by various kings, including René.
When its use as a castle was over, it became a prison – the fate of many
castles, I imagine. It has a rather gruesome reputation thanks to two massacres
of prisoners, in 1795 after the Revolution, and more recently in 1926. Today it
is a museum.
There is nowhere for small boats to moor at Tarascon, so we
sailed on, finally reaching the point where the Petit Rhône breaks away from the main
stream, winding its way through the Camargue down to Les Saintes Maries de la
Mer.
We would have liked to go down all the way to the sea, but
the channel is only dredged and marked for the first 22 km, after which it is definitely
not recommended, particularly with the water as low as this. So we went through
the Saint-Gilles lock, and are now moored in the village. Our shopping
expedition was particular successful, including what seems to have been an
excellent butcher. We shall discover tonight.
Tomorrow we head west along the Canal du Rhone a Sète,
in the direction of Aigues Mortes.
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