Flying Backwards?
We cycled 13 miles across the salt pans today…perhaps that doesn’t sound much but for quite a lot of the time there was a serious headwind…the flamingos were flying backwards…it was hard work. And when the wind wasn’t dead ahead, it was trying to push us sideways into the water.
Colin and Penny
The dogs were fine…low wind resistance and four wheel drive.
Against the wind
We arrived here at the small town of Salin de Giraud on Saturday 18th of October after moving about 25 miles down the coast from Saintes Maries de la Mer. We are just to the west of the mouth of the Rhone. The aire is to the south of the town and close to an impressive collection of salt pans, divided by thin cyclable strips of land.
The aire (N 43.412456 E 4.731106 ) is a quiet patch of hardstanding surrounded by trees and only a few minutes walk from a boulangerie in the town centre. There is drainage, and water if you have a flot-bleu jeton. We didn’t but a very nice German guy let us fill up from his service point when he had had his fill.
After lunch we set off to circumnavigate the salt pans. We flew the first few miles with a strong easterly breeze behind us then had a bit of work to do as we turned towards the east.
Salt Pan
There are salt pans all around; just shallow expanses of seawater which the hot Provencal sun busily evaporates.
The Salt Pans
The aire is where the A is. We cycled a triangular course, along the thin green bits to the coast and then back up a bit more to the east.
On the Groyne
We eventually got to the coast where there are a series of Groynes or stone jetties sticking out in to the sea to prevent coastal erosion.
Looking North
View from the Groyne
Looking west
Route to Salin de Giraud
This is the track through France so far. Tomorrow we head across the Rhône, on the chain ferry, to Carro (well actually we’re here, if that makes sense, but I’m a day behind on the blog).
Rambling about Europe with the Kray Twins (Colin and Penny).
Travels with Mavis 
Re. mosquitoes (see previous blog entry) – when we were in the Camargue we found that the worst ones for us were the ones that crept secretly into the bedding and the curtains and the cushions, probably seizing their chance when the door was briefly opened, leaving the perishers free to feast on us all night. Why don’t they sell tick collars for humans? X
They’ve had at least a pint of blood from us…..that’s an armfull.