Where the Rhône empties into the Mediterranean, a delta of salt and rice, of horsemen and herons, and a horizon you can see whole.
White horses, black bulls and a thousand square kilometres of marsh. A morning with the herdsmen who keep the Camargue the way it has always been.
A reserve where the pink flamingo nests in thousands — best at dawn, when the water is still mirror.
Saint Louis’s crusader port, a perfect square of walls rising straight out of the salt marshes.
Born brown, turned white — the small, ancient breed the gardians still ride to work the bulls.
Every May, the Roma of Europe carry Sara la Noire to the sea — the most moving festival in the South.
Mountains of fleur de sel and lagoons that turn rose — a landscape that looks painted by hand.
Kilometres of empty sand at the end of a dirt road — the South before the South was discovered.