The Étang de Vaccarès is the heart of the Camargue, a shallow, brackish lagoon of roughly sixty-five square kilometres, which makes it the largest in the Rhône delta. It is not the sort of lake you swim in. It is a wide sheet of pewter-grey water, ringed by reedbeds, salt flats and tamarisk, with the sky as the main feature. The water is so shallow that most of it is only a metre or two deep, and it is a nature reserve of international importance, a refuge for thousands of birds, including greater flamingos, herons, ibises and avocets.
Riding here is a flat, open experience, and it feels more like being at sea than on land. The roads that approach the lagoon, such as the D36B and the D570 from Arles, run dead straight across the delta between rice fields, marsh and pasture, with white horses and black bulls grazing at the verge, tended by gardians, the Camargue cowboys, on horseback. The tarmac is narrow and often patched, with no hard shoulder, and the main hazard is the wind. The mistral, a cold, dry wind from the north, can blow for days and will push a bike sideways, and in summer the mosquitoes are ferocious. Spring and autumn are the best times, with softer light, migrating birds and fewer insects.
The Camargue is a living landscape, made by the Rhône and the sea, and by centuries of human management. The salt pans, the rice fields and the ranches all shape the pattern. The park is run as a regional nature reserve, and you will find signed paths and small observation points where you can stop and look through binoculars. Walking is easy, with flat ground, but you should stay on the marked routes and keep clear of the horses and bulls. The light is the real gift: wide skies, low horizons and colours that change by the minute, especially at dawn and dusk.
Services are thin around the lagoon. A few farm restaurants and village cafés serve local dishes such as gardiane, a stew of bull meat in red wine, with Camargue rice, and are well worth trying if you find one open.