When the garrigue awakes, the cicadas sing. This land of shepherds and poets - often both at the same time - incites the hurrying traveller to linger. In the shade of the windmills, even literature has a scent of lavender. And when the sun sets behind the hills, flutes and drums accompany the dances of the dark-haired Arlésiennes.
With its vast marshy plains and its reed fringed pools, shimmering like so many mirages, the Camargue, this daughter of the Rhône, invites the traveller in search of freedom, to dream and roam. Shy by nature, the Camargue opens her arms to those who approach her with humility. For them she displays all the treasures which nature has heaped upon her. Side by side, bulls and horses trample the sea grasses, while birds noisily take flight in an explosion of multi-coloured feathers, where flamingo-pink dominates.
Provence and the Camargue
beautifull and wild