Today we embraced all the nature that the Carmargue region could offer. We started with trying to take photographs caravans battling against the sand and the wild, wild wind. We tucked our cameras away when as the caravaners seemed to be sporting less and less clothes until it was clear that we had wandered onto the nudist part of the encampment. All we could ponder was that sand and wind and chaffing. Eek, we were struggling to keep sand off our cameras, so the thought of abandoning clothes seemed most alarming.
Next we were lured by the improbable rosy pink hued rice fields of Salins de Giraud. It seems unfeasible but the sea really is pink, that's my sort of sea.
As well as the surreal pink water there was also some vivid yellow and pink marsh flowers that I just have to capture against the impossibly blue, blue sky.
Keeping with the pink theme we attempted to creep up (entirely unsuccessfully) on the easily spooked flamingos. As soon as we found a spot a teensy bit closer to the elusive 'one legged' birds, they would inch ever further away.
There are three infamous local creatures we hope to photograph, the sneaky, evasive flamingos, the wild white horses normally captured galloping through the foamy waves and the bulls. We see the white horses in fields and paddocks but not prancing around in the sea. We stop the car to photograph some horses close-up, but they don't seem so wild but more sad and not really indicative of the oft photographed Carmargue white horses. In the end I settle for their horseshoe prints in the salt flats.
The bulls, however, seemed pretty laissez faire and as we stood photographing them they seemed keen to get closer and get a better look. It did make me wonder if now a good time to be wearing a pink scarf that the wind was blowing about me. 
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