Abrivado: The Arrival

Abrivado: The Arrival

At the mouth of the Petit-Rhone within the Camargue, you discover the sea-coast city of Saintes Maries de la Mer. It is settled right the Mediterranean, with a beautiful city and wild surf. The town was built between the 9th and 12th centuries and was a strategically important location for defense against pirate attacks. The church (Notre-Dame-de-la-Mer) is exclusive in each structure and height, as it is much taller than the surrounding buildings. The roof of the church at one time served as a watchtower. Even to the present day, the church is a site for Gypsy pilgrimages. Gypsies come back from everywhere Europe each might 24th to return to hope to Saint Sara and typically leave a giving of material from their garments for her to protect them through the coming year.

This city within the heart of the Camargue is home to black cows, white horses, red rice, and the recognizable Fleur de Sel. The region has a strong tradition of bull rearing and herding that dates back to the late 1800s when Folco Baroncelli a descendant of a Florentine family settled in the Camargue. His passion for bulls moved him to become a manager and in 1895 he founded the "Manado Santenco" in Saintes Maries de la Mer. In 1909, he established the "Nacioun Gardiano" and was very active in the development and promotion of the Camargue bull-run.

Abrivado: The Arrival

Ginger and Nutmeg were invited to the terribly distinctive festival D'Abrivado, which is held in Saintes Maries de la Mer every November 10th and 11th. Here are the fast facts:

* 6 km of beach riding
* 11 teams of riders
* 44 bulls
* 2000 horses
* 15,000 spectators

Their friend wondered if they could arrive at his Uncle's place by 8:30am to witness the loading of the fighting bulls. The real show, however, was on the beach watching the bulls escorted down the shore by "fewer guardians". The beach is at least 4km long and provides many good vantage points to watch the riders and bulls. The full cattle drive is approximately 6km along the beach. There could be as many as 2000 riders on that beach that morning.

Cars lined the roadways, all the way into town. They had at least 2km to get to the beach, and then another 2 to 3 km to get to a good vantage point along the dunes. Ginger and Nutmeg darted into town and grabbed a coffee and croissant. The bar/terrasse that they stumbled upon for coffee was gearing up for something big. People were already drinking beer and Pastis, and the set-up resembled that of a Calgary "cowboy" bar during Stampede. Deux noisette (espresso with a little milk) s'il vous plait, was more their speed at that time of day.

With Jade the traveling hound, they walked out to a vantage point on the beach along with hundreds of other spectators. The route passed by multitudes of camper vans and parked cars. The scene was the French equivalent of a tailgate party, with better food and wine. The anticipation was building, as 11:00am had come and gone still with no sign of the riders or the bulls. What they did not realize was that the riders and their charges still had to cover about 2km before they even came into sight.

By 11:15am the "Abrivado" (or roughly translated the arrival) had begun. All of a sudden, with sirens wailing, the first of 11 teams came into view riding along the beach. What was emerging up the beach was a team of the fabulous Camargue white horses with their respective riders in a tight formation, enclosing the bulls in the center. For each team, there have to be at least 20 riders called guardians (cowboys) protecting 4 long-horned bulls. The teams ride at a reasonable trot, and once they get close to the crowd, spectators try to spook the horses in an attempt to release the bulls. It is the test of horsemanship to keep the horses in check and together, for if a bull escapes carnage would prevail!


A total of 11 teams participated in the day on November 11th. The event lasted about an hour and a half, then the crowd filtered towards town to celebrate in the festivities. The coffee bar from earlier had transformed into a massive street party, with close to 1000 people hanging out. We found a restaurant for a lunch of paella and taureau (bull) stew. The city was rocking and also the party was probably last late into the night. Nutmeg negotiated an early departure before Ginger got too ensconced within the festivities. Back to Aix, trusted hound exhausted in the back, and satiated Ginger in the passenger seat. An honest style of French Stampede, it reminded Ginger of home.

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