Sparse Moments: Day 2 Biking: Aigues-Mortes to Arles

Monday, May 6
25 km
(Worth it to click on pictures, to get the full effect.)

At 40 minutes, the endorphins kick in. I might not notice, but for the idiot grin that splits my face and sticks until my head hits the pillow at night. The riding is hard in the Mistral wind, but, thanks to self-made opioids, exhilarating.

We began the morning “navigating” on the barge to Saint-Gilles, a small town on the way to Arles, and then rode the rest of the way.

The routine seems to be to ride for an hour, then stop for 20 minutes for coffee or to visit something of interest.

Here is Carlos-the-guide & moi, outside the Abbatiale de Saint-Gilles, a stop on one of the many routes of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela.

We saw a couple of the coquille signs as we rode, and we met a pilgrim on the trail.

I'm not a pilgrim. I am a selfie-taker. Apparently.

We had some 90 minutes free in Arles before the beginning of a pre-arranged guided tour. Sheilagh and I ate lunch on a stone bench in a park, then circled the centre, stopping by the theatre, the arena, the forum square. Then we covered exactly the same ground again, on our provided tour. The guide, however, was extremely knowledgeable, and gave us more information than most of our tired brains could take in. When the words ceased to make sense, I simply enjoyed the sound of her voice, and her beautiful so-very-French accent.


Van Gogh's yellow café

The hospital that sheltered Van Gogh

Our local guide, and Van Gogh's depiction of the hospital

Funny how memory, which seems so vivid, distorts over time. I last visited Arles in 2006, and felt I knew it well in the few days I spent there. Today, things had moved from where they used to be: I mean the entire ancient theatre. And the arena, it has sunk about a storey. I swear. Maybe it has to do with approaching the city from a different direction. I got quite lost on the way to the Forum.

The sunken arena

Arles, a very pretty town to get lost in

Today's ride was much shorter that yesterday's, at 25 km, but not any easier, probably because we weren’t entirely recovered from day 1. And today there wasn’t a return trip to put the wind at our backs. Regarding being at the back of the pack, I now realize there are seven people on e-bikes, and I’ve decided they’d be behind me if they weren’t.

The others are very kind. Two women said they were impressed with me, and another said at my size I have to work half again as hard as anyone to get the same distance. I don’t know if there’s any truth to that, but it is true that I’m a pipsqueak among giants. How did everyone get so tall?

Some people, in general, have speed goals, or placement goals. My goal is to let go of my natural tendency to compete and simply not care how I compare. I have always been hard on myself, and it is time now to be gentle. Life is better this way. And certainly nobody else gives a damn.