May 3 & 4, 2019
(click on photos to embiggen) (shout-out to Dave)
Sheilagh and I are both of the mind that to arrive early is to avoid stress. We walked the seven minutes to the train station in Nimes, an hour ahead of our scheduled train to Aigues-Mortes. Good thing, because we couldn’t figure out how to buy a ticket. We battled one machine, then another. I asked a woman standing guard at the information office, and she told me to use the red machine, not the grey one. We re-engaged. Lost. When I showed up a second time, the same guardian-of-the-information (really, there were three of them standing there, and no one was making it past them) led me to a machine inside the info office and did it for me. How much? One euro. Yes, one euro. A glass of fizzy water would cost three times the ride to Aigues-Mortes. I’ll refrain from quips about the coincidence of the town’s name and the cost of water. (I confess it’s not restraint, but laziness, because I can’t think of a quip at the moment.)
We watched a French couple miss their train and take out their frustration on the platform signal guy, who blew it off. Pfft! Our tendency for earliness was duly reinforced.
Anyhow, Aigues-Mortes. It is spectacular from the outside, a town with completely preserved ramparts and fat dungeon towers, ready to greet us as it has greeted Crusaders since the 13th Century. Magnificent! The only thing more spectacular was the number tourist traps, overpriced brasseries, and cheap clothing stores on the inside. This was not unexpected; for once, the reviews did not sugar coat this town. It was a good place to spend 24 hours; a little less would have been even better.
The site of Aigues-Mortes was obtained in 1240 from Benedictine monks by Louis IV, who wanted it for its strategic position by the Mediterranean. He built walls and towers and roads, and launched the Seventh and Eighth Crusades from here. The Tower of Constance was subsequently used as a prison for Huguenot women. Now, the town is a crossroads for canal traffic, a stopover for visitors to the Camargue, and a meet-up place for barge tours such as ours.
We had a decent place to stay, right in the middle of the walled town (there is no town to speak of outside the walls — only salt marshes) Though not as charming as our Nimes hotel, it’s stone staircase was worn with the footfalls of a century of visitors, and its restaurant was more than adequate. We walked the whole of the ramparts, whose towers have been developed to contain some imaginative and rather inspiring displays. The views, over the stretches of salt flats on the outside, and fields of terra cotta roofs on the inside, were wonderful.
(click on photos to embiggen) (shout-out to Dave)
Sheilagh and I are both of the mind that to arrive early is to avoid stress. We walked the seven minutes to the train station in Nimes, an hour ahead of our scheduled train to Aigues-Mortes. Good thing, because we couldn’t figure out how to buy a ticket. We battled one machine, then another. I asked a woman standing guard at the information office, and she told me to use the red machine, not the grey one. We re-engaged. Lost. When I showed up a second time, the same guardian-of-the-information (really, there were three of them standing there, and no one was making it past them) led me to a machine inside the info office and did it for me. How much? One euro. Yes, one euro. A glass of fizzy water would cost three times the ride to Aigues-Mortes. I’ll refrain from quips about the coincidence of the town’s name and the cost of water. (I confess it’s not restraint, but laziness, because I can’t think of a quip at the moment.)
We watched a French couple miss their train and take out their frustration on the platform signal guy, who blew it off. Pfft! Our tendency for earliness was duly reinforced.
 |
| Token train shot, a regional train probably running on time |
Anyhow, Aigues-Mortes. It is spectacular from the outside, a town with completely preserved ramparts and fat dungeon towers, ready to greet us as it has greeted Crusaders since the 13th Century. Magnificent! The only thing more spectacular was the number tourist traps, overpriced brasseries, and cheap clothing stores on the inside. This was not unexpected; for once, the reviews did not sugar coat this town. It was a good place to spend 24 hours; a little less would have been even better.
 |
| Tourist street, before most of the daily tourists arrive |
The site of Aigues-Mortes was obtained in 1240 from Benedictine monks by Louis IV, who wanted it for its strategic position by the Mediterranean. He built walls and towers and roads, and launched the Seventh and Eighth Crusades from here. The Tower of Constance was subsequently used as a prison for Huguenot women. Now, the town is a crossroads for canal traffic, a stopover for visitors to the Camargue, and a meet-up place for barge tours such as ours.
 |
| Tower of Constance |
We had a decent place to stay, right in the middle of the walled town (there is no town to speak of outside the walls — only salt marshes) Though not as charming as our Nimes hotel, it’s stone staircase was worn with the footfalls of a century of visitors, and its restaurant was more than adequate. We walked the whole of the ramparts, whose towers have been developed to contain some imaginative and rather inspiring displays. The views, over the stretches of salt flats on the outside, and fields of terra cotta roofs on the inside, were wonderful.
 |
| Salt flats outside the ramparts; the famous fleur de sel comes from here |
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| Wall and terra cotta |
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| Honouring the Huguenot women imprisoned here |
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| The Google translation is "Do not ride". "Do not stair" is much better. |
2 comments:
Beautiful photos!! Hope your journey continues amusingly.
Excellent reporting! Similarl, we were hit by a ticket machine pirate in Germany.
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