Renowned for its marshes and beautiful white horses, the Camargue is also home to a different kind of bull fighting where the animals are the stars, as Gavin Englebrecht discovers.

IT is the bellow of a bull that means business.

Emanating from the pit of its stomach, it seems be it seems to be saying “stop doing this to me” as bullfighters flit like flies around its head, goading it to charge.

Head down, sharp and sweeping horns pointed menacingly forward, the bull paws the ground before unleashing a tonne of muscle in a charge that could kill.

Yet again, with inches to spare from being trampled, the “raseteurs” hop with impunity over the edge of the arena, as one tries to pluck a cockade off the bull’s horns. Spittle flying, the bull charges again and again.

Then, as quickly as it starts, it is over. But unlike its cousins over the border in Spain, this bull’s day does not end with an ignominious death in blood-soaked sand. It will live to fight another day. Head high, tail erect, it runs proudly out of the arena. Games over, the bulls are driven through the streets by herdsmen (or gardian).

We were in the town of Beauvoisin in the heart of the Camargue district of France and the games come at the end of a fascinating visit to the region.

That the people of the Camargue are passionate about their bulls is in no doubt. In fact, they live for them, venerate them. When people go to bullfights, they are going to see the bulls. They are the real stars. And when the overall champions eventually die in retirement, they are remembered in folklore – and more visibly by shrines that dominate key junctions in the countryside.

But although people of Camargue take pride in not killing them in the arena, that does not mean that some do not end in the pot – and a very tasty pot at that.

Over the course of a couple of days, we learnt to appreciate just how important these fine beasts are to the culture and landscape of this region.

Our flights were with Ryanair, the only carrier to operate a route to Nimes, which serves as a gateway to the Camargue, an area on the Mediterranean featuring the largest marsh in Europe and known for its rich birdlife, its freely-roaming bulls and white horses.

It is a place where summer lingers just that little bit longer.

Our first port of call was the small town of Le Cailar, where we met our guide Georges, who sports a wide-brimmed hat and patterned shirt, particular to the gardians of this area.

The journey started a sedate pace in a traditional open wagon, or caleche, through the surrounding marshand.

As the first bulls come into view, it is evident why the inhabitants regard these black beasts as something special. They have a regal bearing, with horns sweeping elegantly and dangerously forward. Smaller than your average British bull, they boast a pedigree that goes back thousands of years.

Kept in fields and left to roam at will, they are docile creatures. But put them in a confined space and they become agitated, with a fiery temperament that is perfectly suited to bull fighting – or “games” as the locals put it.

When they turn four years old the bulls are tested to see if they will perform. Not all make the grade. Those earmarked for greatness are only given a name at the age of six. It is a name that will last them a lifetime and in some cases longer. Along the way, our attention was drawn to a monument to Sultan Pagano, who departed his herd and the world in 1870.

Convention requires that each animal has the run of a hectare and a bull will “cover” a whole herd of cows. One of most famous of the bull owners in this area was Antoinette Guillierme, better known as the Fanfonne of Carmague. Her name is still fondly recalled a half a century after her heyday.

These animals are as important for maintaining the landscape of the marshland – which is loved as much by mosquitoes, as we discovered. It is said there are 40 species of the blighters here, though they all have the same effect.

One piece of advice when travelling in a carriage: never stand on it when it is stationary as it can leave suddenly without you – as I found out, flying several feet through the air and landing in a cloud of dust. Thankfully, there were no broken bones and only grazes and bruising – to body and pride alike. I was tended to at the Cafe de Pay, which operates as a pub and the social hub of the village and has a fully-stocked first aid cupboard.

The next day we got a bit closer to the real thing when we visited Thierry Felix who owns a herd (or menade) of 120 bulls and cows. Greeted in traditional style, we were given an impressive display of cowboys rounding up the cattle on horseback. Amidst the thundering hooves it all seems confusing, but the men, armed only with prods, know the animals they want and nimbly separate them and herd them in.

Thierry represents the new generation of menade owners.

The raseteur is self-effacing about his achievements: he has been French champion twice. Badly gored several times, he has been at death’s door twice, he says, as he proudly shows us his scars.

Thierry, who has since retired from the ring, has built up his own herd and earns a living by passing on his knowledge, hosting weddings and events at his farm and selling meat.

Using a pair of horns mounted on pram wheels for practice, he shows us the tricks of the trade. Quite simply, the raseteur has to remove a cockade from the charging bull using nothing more than a set of blades worn on the hand.

Working in teams, the raseteurs have to distract the bull so one can dash past and cut off the cockade. Each bout lasts only 15 minutes and the bull is put out to pasture and not used in the arena again for at least three months. After learning more about his prized animals, we sampled a range of salami made from their meat, as well as a casserole of beef washed down by Costieres de Nimes.

There is more to the region than bulls. A fascinating landscape bordering the Mediterranean between Montpellier and Marseilles, it comprises alluviums, marshes, arid land and paddy fields.

The area is also an important nesting site for European migrating birds and home to several parks and reserves.

But my abiding memories will remain of the magnificent black bulls, beautiful white horses and their salt-of-theearth guardians.

TRAVEL FACTS

􀁧 GAVIN travelled with Ryanair (0871-246-0000/ryanair.com) which offers return flights to Nimes from Liverpool Airport, flying Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

􀁧 First TransPennine is running services calling at Liverpool South Parkway station. There are 16 daily services between Liverpool and Yorkshire in each direction, except on Sundays when there are 14. A journey from Darlington to Liverpool South Parkway takes just under three hours with a change at York. Advance purchase single fares from Darlington to Liverpool South Parkway, start from £13.50 and you can find train times and buy tickets online at tpexpress.co.uk. There are no credit card fees for tickets which can be collected at the station.

􀁧 Gavin stayed in Mas Saint-Maurice mas-saintmaurice.camargue.fr