Aigues-Mortes - medieval shopping

Travelling from Carcassone to Arles, we decided to stop off in medieval Aigues-Mortes on the edge of the Camargue delta.

Aigues-Mortes is a fortified town and is located some 90 kms  northwest of Marseille. By road, Aigues-Mortes is about 33 km (21 miles) southwest of Nîmes and 20 km (12 miles) east of Montpellier.
it is is connected to the sea through the Canal du Rhône a Sète. It's not well known outside France but has a lengthy history.

Salt mining started from the Neolithic period and continued in the Hellenistic period. Later, the exploitation of the Peccais salt marshes was encouraged by Francois 1 in 1532, to connect the salt industry of Aigues-Mortes to the sea.

In 791, Charlemagne erected the Matafere Tower monastery which forms part of the current ramparts.

Aigues-Mortes, as much as it appears today, was conceived by King (eventually 'Saint') Louis IX in 1240, and the walls were finished by his son in 1302. It was built to give Louis and his armies access to the sea, at a time when his younger brother Charles (King of Naples and Aragon) occupied the coast to the east (Provence) and south (Roussillon). His new town grew to become one of the most important strategic ports on the Mediterranean. It was a great launching off point for Louis and his navy, keen to conquer and plunder the Holy Land.
Louis launched the Seventh Crusade in 1248 and again for the Eighth one in 1270 for Tunis where he died of dysentery.

From 1575 to 1622, Aigues-Mortes was one of the eight safe havens granted to the Protestants. But in the time of Louis XIV the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685 caused severe repression of Protestantism. The Constance Tower was used as a prison for the Hugenots who refused to convert to Roman Catholisism.


What the town does today:

• Viticulture and asparagus
• Breeding of bulls and of Camargue horses
• Production of salt by the operation of the saltworks 
• The ramparts stretch for a distance of 1650 metres. Spectacular in their height and their state of preservation even though they were not restored in the 19th century
•  Ernest Hemingway's third major posthumous work, the novel The Garden of Eden, takes place in Aigues-Mortes
• During summer, tourists come to buy slabs of local nougat, Gardian cowboy hats and post cards of flamingoes
• The etangs (salt-water lagoons) surrounding the southern end of Aigues-Mortes are red, and they are so because of the high-concentration of salt within them. 

I found the highlight of my visit was  a little shop selling Provençal fabric and home linen items. Quintessentially the South of France. I came away with beautiful table mats and tablecloths, and a teatowel the owner threw in for free.
https://www.facebook.com/Tissus-Proven%C3%A7aux-Les-Remparts-106139846129851/  Most appreciated. Yes, it is very touristy but it is lively and there seemed a better quality of merchandise with a splash of creativity here.

For us there was a huge downside to the tourist success here. On a blustery day we were keen to take a quick peek around the town and then head off to our true destination, Arles, for the evening. Unfortunately traffic control was a horror. It was reduced to one lane trying to turn right while traffic from the other direction tried to turn in. There was also a barrier arm. Total gridlock occured with visitors trying to leave in their cars but unable to.

The entire carpark avenues became full of stationery cars that needed to leave but couldn't. Tempers frayed amongst drivers and courtesy evaporated. I got out of the car to see what was the problem but there was no accident, no cardiac arrest, just incompetent traffic management which meant we had to sit in our cars for 1.5 hours with the aircon running to keep temperatures reasonable. That rather spoilt the experience, but on a quieter day I'd recommend a visit here - a stroll along the ramparts (which are lengthy, taking 45 minutes), shopping and chilling out in the numerous cafes. There are plenty of Provençal soaps in delicious perfumes to be sampled too. Weekly markets are on Wednesday and Sunday mornings. BnBs and vacation rentals mean you can stay here and explore the Camargue as well as Roman remnants in the general area, at your leisure.

What dreams may come

Here we are and the first month of the new year is already rushing by. Each year I hope the new year will be better than the last one. This is rarely the case in my experience but 2020 has a certain ring to it and is currently giving me a little encouragement whenever I pause for reflection.

Last year was truly unpleasant. It began with possums eating my little orchard and roses and even parts of my new house. I lost money, time, effort and sleep. I had to learn a lot about various forms of killing and so The Aussie Terrorists died after a concerted trapping and communications campaign. My nerves were entirely frayed and some of my fruit trees have not recovered.

I had two different landscapers try to rip me off with charges, knowing I didn't have anyone behind me to back me up. My sense of trust took another hit. They had to back off; a quote is a quote.

One of the biggest frustrations was my continuing search for employment throughout diverse sectors. I have plenty of skills, talents, qualifications and experience and, of course, NZers aren't interested in experience gained overseas by candidates. It's a hiding to hell with years of my life wasted in applying, researching and interviewing, but the worst is the emotional toll it takes, especially when you are unemployed for most of two years while trying to build a house on your own.

Jobseeker benefit is not designed for people like me. The WINZ work broker said she could not help me; too educated, too experienced, too old. But too young for the superannuation.

And then there was the worst horror of all. The utter and tortured betrayal I suffered in going back to France to spend time with JC, believing his past words of love, marriage, when all along he'd decided on another woman. It's not the sort of thing I will ever forget and it still affects me on a daily basis. Trust. It's hard to trust anyone after that and we all know there are a lot of fake people out there. I meet them regularly.

But all that is being mitigated by some surprising positive stuff which may or may not pan out, but at least I am seeing possibilities.

My garden is progressing, despite serious damage from hail and relentless strong winds. Little by little it is coming together and I am a long way from 12 months ago. Lots of hard work and caring for my plants is paying off in scrummy fruit and vegetables that improve my health and supermarket bills.

Recently I reconnected with a bass player I met back in the eighties. I turned him down back then about joining his band as a vocalist on keyboards as I didn't feel I was good enough. I wasn't, without support of a music teacher or vocal coach. However, thirty-four years later we are looking at the possibility of forming a duo to entertain around certain traps, using today's technology which does away with a 5-piece backing band. I still don't think my voice is good enough but I can at least find out one way or the other. That's exciting. Opportunities don't pop up often so I'll just have to be brave and plunge in. You can imagine me at home, singing away with midi tracks on my PC, trying to find my voice again. Not much money in it but it might be fun to be musicking with someone else for a change, rather than pottering at home alone with my guitar. Can't do much until I turn 65.

I still haven't totally given up on my desire to help folks live more sustainably and to find an organisation who might discover a worthy vision as New Zealand's eco-city did back 10-20 years ago. I know I could make a diffrence and do something meaningful if only someone would choose me. I've found someone who would like to help me pursue that so maybe I can realise that dream, or not. We'll give it a go.

My daughter Laura and I spent time together at Christmas. Since then we have had more regular communication and she has been showing me she thinks of me and cares. That's lovely and an especially positive thing to develop in 2020/this year. I hope we can find ways to meet up more than once a year though travel in NZ is awfully expensive.

In the meantime, JC continues to want contact with me. It's a double-edged emotional sword for me. It hurts, but at the same time, knowing he is still out there and valuing me in some way is stabilising and helps me feel better, even if it is momentary. From time to time he sends me a parcel to help me out in some way: it might be some historic china, or a tapestry made by his mother or some bird netting. I don't know how long it will last. Reason would say he'll get bored one day, even with our weekly Skype calls across the planet, but... sometimes people can be positively 'unreasonable' and surprise us. I miss the good parts of the relationship we had.

As you can see, I still have dreams: France is in my soul each and every day and always will be - it's who I am and where I so want to be.
 I am meeting people who come in and go out of my life for various reasons - sometimes I only meet them a couple of times, I'm still working towards meaningful contributions to my district, I'm hoping a truly special man will find his way into my life one day, and in a few months time I will become 'respectable' and eligible for NZ Superannuation.

The big thing for me to focus on this year is to meet people, preferably people who know who they are and what they want, not fake people who never deliver. Spending time with people who actually value me is increasingly important. There aren't many but they know who they are. My heart is welcoming more into my life. 2020 - I'm ready to accept the opportunities in store.