Versailles’s got its royal stables, Chantilly’s got its noble horse museum and Saumur’s got its Cadre Noir, but for me as a horse-lover watching the horsewomen at the Haras National (National Stud Farm) at Le Lion d’Angers is paradise.

During a season which stretches from end of February until late October, this equestrian center located 16 miles northwest of Angers holds competitions for several types of riding (dressage, jumping, 3-day event) for various ages and skill levels from club level to high amateur and professional level, with two international competitions as the cherries on top.

And each year in May side-saddling horsewomen arrive for Europ’Amazones, a strange and colorful weekend of pageantry, sport and beauty. Amazones may make them sound like arch-toting warriors yet they are among the most elegant horsewomen you’ll ever see.

But don’t get a false idea that this is just about looking nice. These riders come here to compete! They show their skills in dressage, jumping and derby (cross country race with obstacles). They also complete for the overall appearance of the rider and her horse. This year the ladies (somehow “women” doesn’t seem elegant enough) competed in two such categories: “historical,” where the outfit is an exact replica, and “fantasy,” where les amazones have more freedom in choosing their costumes.

The history of one-sided saddle riding dates to the Middle Ages, particularly beginning in the 14th century, when it seemed too unladylike (read: non-virginal) for young women to sit astride a horse. Straddling a horse in a long skirt wasn’t ideal in any case, but it was doable. Nevertheless, proper ladies were expected to sit sideways on a wooden construction resembling a chair with their feet on a small footrest—very impractical for controlling the horse and for going faster than pace.

In the 16th century, during the riding days of Catherine de Medici, wife of French King Henri II, one-sided saddles were improved in France in such a way that a woman could sit facing forward and better control her horse—a great leap forward for horse riding in a long skirt. But Catherine’s rival for her husband’s attention, Diane de Poitiers, the greater beauty, stole the show. It’s said that she rode daily and cut a fine figure will doing so—proof that for the finer things in life in France a lover is often more fondly remembered than a wife. Cause for reflection.

Sidesaddle amazone riding continued to be the norm for proper ladies into the early 20th century. Then women’s rights, among other forces, allowed women the freedom to sport split riding skirts and finally breeches while sitting astride their mount.

As a rider who uses both legs and the whole body to communicate with her horse I find riding difficult enough. An amazone can use only one leg and her body in a limited way, but still has to achieve the same results in dressage.

Two thoughts came to mind while watching the long-skirted riders at Europ’Amazones:  “Woah!” and “Why?”

I soon forgot the “why” in favor of the “woah,” for in addition to their obvious skill these women looked astonishing. No stable-boy look here (that would be me most of the time), no modern, hard-to-maintain clean trousers and tops. The horsewomen I watched were extremely elegant and made it all look so effortless.

Hats off to you, ladies! I mean helmets off.

Text and photos © Justyna Gawąd, 2013

Justyna Gawąd is Polish and is married to a Frenchman. They are proud parents of a European child, guardians of one dog and faithful servants of one cat. Three years ago they moved from Warsaw to the Anjou region of France, where Justyna rides often.

Haras Nationaux, National Stud Farms, were created in the 17th-century by Louis XVI’s minister Colbert in order to ensure the remounting of the French army. Eliminated during the Revolution, they were reestablished by Napoleon I in 1806. Twenty-two such equestrian centers spread throughout France are currently operated by the government’s French Horse and Equitation Institute to promote horse breeding and related activites along with the development of equestrian activities. They are, however, being restructured and will soon disappear in their current configuration although the centers themselves will continue to exist in some form.

Guided tours of the Haras National at Lion d’Angers are given mid-April to early September.

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I sat next to the wood stove with a mug of coffee in my hands. Bless my hosts for having coffee! I thought, as I eased back against the bench and let my muscles unstiffen.

I had come to France from the winter-cold Midwestern U.S. a little over a week earlier, as a WWOOF volunteer. WWOOF (WorldWide Opportunities on Organic Farms) was something I’d long wanted to do. Organized on a country-by-country basis, with 40+ nations participating, WWOOF connects small organic farmers and homesteaders with “willing workers” (the WW of the original acronym) who are interested in sustainable farming and eager to travel.

For room and board a WWOOFer exchanges a certain amount of work each day, over a period of time that can range from a few days to a few months. I had recently finished graduate school, and after months of unemployment and restlessness, I decided I needed to go WWOOF somewhere. And somewhere became France.

I needed to go WWOOF somewhere

My hosts, Frederic and Dorine Berendsen-Schut, of La Ferme des Jolies Allures, were kind and hospitable from the outset. “Eat anything,” they said, opening their cupboards full of foods I liked: chocolate spread, cookies, butter and bread, pudding, and oh, wonderful coffee! During my stay we drank coffee together at least once a day, usually two to three times, and my hosts began to tease me for my penchant for sweets to go with it.

Dorine and Frederic hail from the Netherlands. “We came to Dordogne for a better life,” Frederic told me. Their lives in the Netherlands, he said, had gotten too crowded, too fast, and too stressed. As they started to think about a place in the country, France seemed the likely option, and so to France they moved. They are among the many Dutch and English who have chosen to settle in the Dordogne countryside.

Dorine took a course in agriculture and entrepreneurship, and despite doubtful laughs from some of her fellow classmates, she and Frederic set out to make their dreams happen. In 2007, they purchased their farm and got to work.

I was their first WWOOFer, and they had set up a separate room for me, with a layer of rocks on the floor to keep the dust down in the then-unfinished barn-house. It amused me to step out of bed and feel the floor crunch under my feet, but the bed was comfortable and the heat piping into the room was much appreciated.

Dordogne, more enchanting than I ever expected

Before coming to France I had paged through books and gotten a general idea of the country’s various regions and departments, but to read is one thing and to experience is another. I found Dordogne to be more enchanting than I could have expected or even hoped for. Oh, I thought, every time I would climb onto the tractor and off we’d go to the woods, I am living in the place where they make fairytales happen: the golden stone buildings, the red and blue shutters, the green hills folding into each other, and all those castles; small villages one after another; quiet roads yet nearby neighbors; paths winding down into valleys, coming out alongside streams, and streams running under bridges into old mill wheels.

I found this all so beautiful I could hardly find a way to speak of it. So I scribbled in my notebook, evenings by the wood stove, with smiles for such things, even if only for myself to understand.

I have a bit of an agricultural background, so I’ve spent many summers between jobs and school semesters crouched over rows of vegetables, planting and weeding and harvesting. The work on this farm, however, was not of the kind I had done most often before. When coming to volunteer on farms in France during February and March, that is to be expected. Unlike summer, the tail end of winter is less focused towards tending crops and more directed towards animal care and general farm maintenance.

At work and at play

When Dorine went into town to work with her real estate company (a place where she can use her knowledge of four languages, as others from the EU seek to relocate to the region), Frederic and I headed out to a stand of nearby trees to chop and gather firewood and stack it near the house. We would spend a few hours each morning working on the wood, come in for lunch, and maybe go back out again, depending on our plans for the day.

In mornings and evenings, we took turns making sure the horses were all well and had hay and water. My hosts raise Mangalarga Marchadors and Tennessee Walkers, both gaited horses for smooth riding, and they also nurture their shrubs and vines (blueberries, black currants, gooseberries and others), the fruit from which they will use for making natural and organic juices. I drank some of their juice from the previous year, made with fruit that had been given or purchased from neighbors and friends. Frederic and Dorine had wanted to begin juicing for practice in this early, just-starting-out phase of their farm. The flavors were full, and so sweet, with no sugar or sugar substitutes added! And the horses – well, the horses were gorgeous. At night I would slip out of my room and go lean on the fence and just look at them.

While the mares produce some of the first foals and the fruit starts to bear, these Frederic and Dorine are hard at work converting their barn into a house. When I was there, half of the barn had been bricked off and was where we humans stayed, while the other half was for the horses, all with a dirt floor but quite cozy, nonetheless. In addition to finishing the house and setting up a few campers for subsequent WWOOFers to stay in, the Berendsen-Schuts have plans for a new barn for the horses, and hope to construct several ecological gîtes, so tourists and visitors can stay and enjoy the fresh air, the rolling landscape, the picturesque villages, and certainly the good food.

I enjoyed all these things, and lots of laughing with fine company. At first I was shy and eager to please, but as the Berendsen-Schuts and I worked together we got to know each other and spent a lot of time joking and bantering – even when we got a bout of le gastro and spent several days running to the bathroom. (I think we may have laughed then more than ever!) And one of the very best things was getting to know the neighbors; something I so appreciated about my hosts was how, even as Dutch imports with still relatively new French speaking skills, they engaged with their community and invited me into their circles.

A sense of community

In the two-and-a-half weeks I spent with my hosts, I joined Dorine in watching Frederic perform with his choral group inside a small stone church; I dined at the home one of the fellow choral members and his large family (so much food and drink!); I went to a community memorial for boys who had died while organizing as part of the French Resistance; and I helped clear trees and branches from the yard of a perfectly jolly British couple, stopping to chat over steaming mugs of tea out in the misty gray. Once, while driving, we caught sight of a barn we admired, and when we stopped to look at it, we made new friends with the Yorkshire owners and their handsome Clydesdales.

A week or so into my stay, I hopped off the tractor for an impromptu meet-and-greet with the next-door neighbors on a rainy afternoon, and was left alone with the mother and grandmother while Frederic and the uncle went to look at some firewood. The women spoke almost no English, and my French was yet tentative and clumsy, but how gracious we all were to each other! I had heard so much, here and there, about the French disliking Americans. But here in Dordogne I felt warmly welcomed, as friends of friends – invited into a place of green and sunshine, of rain and golden-white castles, of horses and bright open doors.

For more on WWOOFing in France see www.wwoof.fr.
For more on WWOOF worldwide see www.wwoof.org.
For more on Frederic and Dorine Berendsen-Schut’s farm see La Ferme des Jolies Allures.

Author bio: Erica Romkema grew up on hobby farms in the heartland of the United States. She enjoys working in the dirt and writing about food, farms, and nature. She write a blog called Kinds of Honey.

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Driving south from my home in Aix-en-Provence into the Camargue, the change in landscape is surprisingly fast as the giant plane trees and windswept pines of Provence are replaced by the flat marshlands and fine sandy beaches of the Rhone River Delta.

Not only does the landscape change but so does the culture. Exit Provence’s lavender charms, enter its cowboy country. This is Texas à la française, 300 square miles of sparsely populated marshland home to local cowboys known as gardians and ranchers called manadiers, along with otters, muskrats, flamingos, horses, and bulls.

The Camargue is also temporary home to several hundred species of migratory birds. It’s a dreamscape for ornithologist though you don’t need to be a hardcore birdwatcher to enjoy a day out in two parks:Marais du Vigueirat and the Parc Ornithologique. Clearly marked nature trails, wooden boardwalks and observatories allow visitors to the park to wander at their own pace. Spring and late autumn are the best times to see the egrets, herons, storks and other migratory birds. July and August have visual appeal as well, but with it comes stifling heat, blood-thirsty mosquitoes, and an influx of visitors.

Local tour operators offer rides through the wetlands in 4-wheel drive vehicles, however the best way to enjoy the landscape and the wildlife is on horseback.

The Camargue horse

The local Camargue horse is a unique breed. The horses are only about 13 or 14 hands, which is closer to the size of a pony. These sturdy rugged-legged horses are born dark brown or black and progressively lighten after the age of three, eventually turning grey then white.

The breed is hearty enough to cope with tortuous heat in the summer and blustery cold days in winter. In fact, they are never stabled. They are always in the fields unless they are ready to be saddled up for a ride.

They are extremely agile and very much at ease with water. As a rider, I find that one of the most exciting parts about riding in the Camargue is cantering along the beach or splashing in and out of ponds, something that is not only permitted but encouraged.

Finding a stable

Stables are easy enough to find since they dot D570, the main road running south from Arles towards Saintes Maries de la Mer, but the trick is to find a good one. At some facilities, I’ve had the impression that the horses aren’t receiving the best of care. A complete list of stables is available on the Saintes Maries de la Mer website, www.saintesmaries.com.

It’s important to look for the French Equestrian Federation logo (FFE- Fédération Française d’Equitation) when selecting a place to ride. After trying a number of stables I’ve found my favorite in Les Cabanes de Cacharel, an accredited facility that’s owned by a young couple from the region who clearly adore their animals.

The property has two cabanes de gardians. That’s the name of the traditional homes in the Camargue built using local reeds and clay. Built for cowboys, fisherman and shepherds alike, such homes are positioned with their back to the mistral wind, which can blow any month of the year at speeds that often exceed 80 or 90 km/hour (or 50 – 55 mph). During winter months the wind can be bitterly cold. (I may have gotten accustomed to Provencal temperatures over the year but as a Canadian I still recognize bitter cold when I feel it.)

Saddling up

Depending on your level of experience, the owner or staff at the better stables will select the animal that will be the best tempered for your needs and experience as a rider. There’s also a size issue: because Camargue horses are a small breed, visitors weighing over 90 kilos or 198 lbs are discouraged from riding.

Camargue-style stirrups resemble those worn by the conquistadors. Whereas some completely close in the toe, others are made of ornate wrought iron. Camargue saddles resemble Western-style saddles, so English-style riders will find them slightly uncomfortable. It took me some getting used to flopping around on the saddle, but I now appreciate this looser way of riding and now find it a far more enjoyable, especially in this region. Rather than focusing on heels down, tips in, back straight, reigns tight, the Camargue saddle puts you in a better position and frame of mind to take in the scenery.

One of the pleasures of returning to the Camargue frequently is the ways in which the landscape and the wildlife are different each time I go. I’ve ridden on days where the fog was so thick it was hard to guess the location of the guide, but the horses knew where to go. It feels magical to ride in near obscurity while listening to the calls of birds.

I’ve also ridden on the crispest sunny day where I could see miles of sea lavender and tamarisk surrounding the lagoons. And I’ve been on walks when the wind was so fierce that the birds couldn’t hear us approaching. We literally crept up on flocks of flamingos with their marvellous pink plumage. When they finally spotted us they took off only to land but a short distance away. Flamingos are often chosen as the poster bird to represent the Camargue, so I was surprised the first time I came across storks sitting in giant nests atop the few tall trees in the region.

But whenever I come the most enjoyable part is riding on an otherwise empty beach and wading into the water. There’s a sense of freedom then that I’ve come to associate with the Camargue.

Useful links and Information

Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, the main town in the Camargue, www.saintesmaries.com
Arles, the gateway to the Camargue, Arles Tourist Office
Camargue Regional Park, www.parc-camargue.fr
Les Marais du Vigueirat, protected marshland and natural reserves, www.marais-vigueirat.reserves-naturelles.org
Parc Ornithologique, a zoological park and ornithological reserve, www.parcornithologique.com
Les Cabanes de Cacharel, www.cabanesdecacharel.com

Food note

The gardians can be seen rounding up the bulls (tauraux) that are raised for the Courses Camarguaises, a local version of bullfighting in which white-clad raseteurs try to grab a cockade ribbon from the horns of bulls.

The bulls are also raised for their meat. Local restaurants offer daube de tauraux (bull stew) in which the long-cooked meat becomes incredibly tender just like a boeuf bourgignon. Saussison de tauraux (dry bull sausage) is another local specialty.

The marshland of the Camargue is also France’s major rice-growing region.

Laurence Bry is a Canadian living in Aix-en-Provence. She operates Provence Confidential, a concierge service assiting travelers visiting Provence.

The post The Green Traveler: The Camargue, a View from the Saddle appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

But for five days in mid-August, Saint-Agrève welcomes the thump of the mechanical bull, the cry of the rodeo caller, country musicians, line-dancers, and cowboy hats, and even allows burgers and fries to be sold in dollars (of a sort), as 25,000 visitors come from far and wide to attend Equiblues, Europe’s largest American-style rodeo.

Equiblues was launched in 1996, the brainchild of Philippe Lafont, a local resident in the masonry business, who dates his passion for rodeo to a childhood love for westerns, an adolescent affection for horses, and an adult awe of wide open space. What began as a more or less large-scale village festival was such an immediate hit that by 1998 Equiblues had developed into a full-scale rodeo. Mr. Lafont still leads the charge.

Here in the rural and generally bypassed upper plateau of Ardèche, the rodeo competition now draws 200 competitors, but it’s the atmosphere and entertainment of Equiblues that draw the crowds, with four evenings of country music (mostly American bands but with a few French as well), line-dancing, line-dancing lessons, a mechanical bull, Texas barbecue, bull-riding lessons, a Texas barbecue where “Equiblues dollars” are currency, and a “village” of stands in which manufacturers and craftsmen display their wares relative to horse and cowboy.

While vacation on the opposite side of the Rhone this summer Brandon Eckhoff drove over to Saint-Agrève to check out the scene at Equiblues, inspiring him to create this audio slide-show. (Article continues below)

In summer, foreign visitors may occasionally wander into the southern portion of Ardèche, across the Rhone River from northern Provence, but the northern portion of Ardèche where Saint-Agrève is situated remains very much unexplored. Soon after the rodeo ends at Saint-Agrève, it goes back to being a well-off-the-beaten track dot on the map of deep France.

That mean that there’s little in the way of accommodations in the area of Saint-Agrève. Most of those attending Equiblues either stop by on a daytrip or camp out or come by RV.

But don’t let that off-the-beaten-trackness fool you. As with other typically bypassed areas of rural France, you shouldn’t be surprised to find a fine chef in town. The culinary hotspot of Saint-Agrève is Philippe Bouissou’s table at his Hôtel Faurie.

With seating for just eight in the restaurant and only three rooms at the inn, Hôtel Fleurie is like a 3-star guest house where your host is an excellent chef—excellent enough to sport a Michelin star within a year of its opening in 2007. Mr. Bouissou offers a delicious and convivial bite of contemporary French gastronomy, a far cry from the rodeo fields of Texas, but within spittin’ distance of Equiblues.

Hôtel Faurie, 36 avenue des Cévennes, 07320 Saint-Agrève. Tel. 04 75 36 11 45. www.hotelfaurie.fr. The website is intentionally inexplicit about the restaurant, says Mr. Bouissou, so that visitors can better discover it on their own.

Equiblues: For more information about this summer’s rodeo festival see www.equiblues.com.

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