Camargue

During my assignment in Kaiserslautern, my German language teacher became a good friend. She was going for a vacation to the south of France. I am thinking about the Riviera but I was corrected that German people make fabulous holidays at a minimal cost. Their destination was west of Marseille in the Camargue. Good enough for me and I could come to visit for the weekend. Their modest hotel was near the fishing docks in a little village of Le Grau-du-Roi. Le Menu was always fresh fish. There was only one bathroom for the ten hotel rooms but Hey, I‘m new to this travel game and what works for Europeans will work for me. The bathroom was also for the restaurant but it was not clear why they kept the basket of baguettes behind the door.
The Camargue is the windward side of the Riviera at the mouth of the Rhone River. This low flat rough land is likened to the Wild West with white horses and black cattle ranging free. Saintes Maries-de-la-Mer, like a frontier town, is the home of the Gypsies. They have annual pilgrimages there which are certain to be the most colorful time to visit. We went to the bullfighting ring where activity seemed to be non-stop. A snorting bull was in the ring and teenage boys were sporting by sneaking up behind, swatting him on the rump or pulling his tail, then running for the fence. Their leap over was timed for their risk and adrenalin to narrowly miss the pursuing horns. Not exactly Pamplona but close.
Van Gogh fits this torrid place and more so Arles. While there I could not recall the specifics of his work in the area, the landscape well suited a mind in distress – like a sunflower.