When Mr G imagined the Camargue he pictured hordes of white horses thundering along a beach, a bit like a natural and more authentic Guinness ad. Turns out that in the summer months the only wildlife that thunders around the Camargue in packs is the mossies and midges. 

Of course, I should have known. My lovely friend Philippa is my official expert on all things French. When asked about the Camargue she gently tried to steer us in a different direction, describing it as ‘nice, in a swampy and flamingo-y way.’  Which clearly means it’s mossie-central for anyone foolish enough to visit on a muggy day in June. Wisely, she went in January. 

Mosquitos usually love me, so I am irritatingly jumpy when they whine past my ear. Mr G is very easy-breezy and relaxed about them. I sprayed myself and the van relentlessly, then covered up in acres of white linen and aggressively swatted anything that came nearby. As I’m sure you can imagine, it was wonderfully restful for us both. 

Just need to add the gloves and bee-keepers hat and veil now!

Ironically, as I was covered and sprayed, the mossies turned to the all-you-can-eat buffet next to me. As I type, Mr G is scratching one of the fifty or so bites on his legs. Mwahahahaha!

Don’t let old Scrooge here put you off- The Camargue is very beautiful. The salt ponds were stunning shades of pink,  the wetland landscape is glorious and we did see groups of black bulls and white horses quietly grazing. Wild? Well, they were a bit cross that we’d interrupted their lunch.

The closest we came to a flamingo was at our campsite- but I’ve shared Philippa’s pic to show what proper Camargue explorers see! 

Guess which photo I took?

Quick campsite comment:

We stayed at Camping Crin Blanc a three star campsite in the Camargue National Park. 

The good bits: Big, leafy pitches, a lovely pool and restaurant/bar and plenty of mosquito spray for sale at reception. Only €22.

The bad bits: The loos and showers were mixed, with open urinals outside the shower cubicles. All very modern and French, but not really for me! You had a swarm of midges and mossies around your head, or dive bombing your drink/coffee at all times. If you go, pick your time carefully. 

We left the Camargue a day early to follow one of Philippa’s other recommendations. We went for lunch in the picture-perfect Provencale village of Eygaliere. We sipped rose, watched the  glamorous people go by, and ate one of the best salads ever- and not a mossie in sight!