We had been living in Barcelona since November, and by early spring the idea of a road trip had begun to take shape. Having access to a car made it feel easy in a way it hadn’t before. We had visited Spain many times, especially with Victor’s parents living in Barcelona, so this time we wanted to go somewhere different. France felt close but unexplored, and Occitanie seemed full of places we had always been curious about. We planned a route, booked a few places to stay and waited for the right weekend to begin.
Occitanie is one of those regions that feels both familiar and entirely its own. It stretches across the south of France, from the Pyrenees to the Mediterranean, and is shaped by Roman amphitheatres, medieval fortresses, wide open plains and quiet fishing towns. The landscapes change quickly, from mountains and vineyards to salt marshes and winding rivers. The region takes its name from the old Occitan language, still heard in fragments of street names and village signs, a reminder of a cultural history that runs deep.
We left Barcelona early in the morning, stepping out into air that still carried a little of the night’s coolness. Once we were on the road, the city faded quickly behind us, and the highway stretched north, bordered by fields and low hills. The wind was already making itself known, tugging at the car with steady persistence. As we reached the French border, the motorway signs blinked warnings of high winds. Several times, we felt the car lean softly as the gusts pushed against it. It required constant focus, and the drive took on an unexpected intensity.
Wetlands of Mèze
Once the landscape opened toward the southern coast, the wind remained strong but somehow felt gentler with more space to move. We turned off the main road and followed a smaller street toward the Conque wetland near Mèze. The parking area was a flat patch of dirt, edged by tall grasses and reeds that clattered together in the wind. The lagoon stretched out before us, pale blue and silver, with wooden posts scattered across the water. The air smelled faintly of salt and vegetation.
We wrapped our jackets tighter and set off on the trail. The path curved gently around pools of water that were still and glasslike, even though the reeds surrounding them moved wildly. It was then that we noticed our first flamingos. A small group of them stood among the shallows, their silhouettes long and slender, their feathers ranging from soft rose to pale coral. Despite the strong gusts, they seemed entirely unbothered. They lifted their heads, dipped their beaks into the water and shuffled their skinny legs with an ease that made it look as though the wind had chosen to leave them alone. It felt like an early gift from the region.
We ate our packed lunch during the walk, though we kept one hand on our food most of the time. It wasn’t easy to relax in the wind, and after finishing the loop of the trail, we returned to the car.
A Short Stop in Mèze
In the centre of Mèze, the wind softened slightly. We parked near the harbour and wandered the narrow streets. The houses were painted in soft shades of cream, pale pink and dusty yellow, with shutters in faded blues and greens. Small fishing boats rocked gently in the water, their ropes creaking against the docks. Restaurants were preparing for lunch and displayed chalkboards outside their doors. Even with the gusts, Mèze carried a calm, unhurried atmosphere.
The Golden Arches of Pont du Gard
From Mèze, we drove northeast into a landscape of vineyards, olive groves and long stretches of open terrain. The colours shifted to earthy greens and warm browns. Stone farmhouses and clusters of cypress trees appeared at intervals along the road. As we approached the Pont du Gard, the sun rested lower in the afternoon sky, giving the scenery a soft golden tone.
The Pont du Gard revealed itself gradually. At first, we saw only the top of its arches through the trees. Then the path descended slightly, and the aqueduct came fully into view, rising above the River Gardon. The stone glowed in shades of honey and pale gold. The lower arches framed views of the river, and the upper tiers felt impossibly precise. Built in the first century, the Pont du Gard once formed part of a fifty-kilometre aqueduct that carried water to Nîmes. Seeing it in the warm light of late afternoon made the scene feel both monumental and serene.
We then followed the Mémoires de Garrigue trail. The trail is a short 1.4-kilometre walk behind the Pont du Gard. The land was used for farming for hundreds of years before being abandoned in the mid-twentieth century. A restoration project in 2000 rebuilt dry stone walls, cleared old paths and replanted traditional crops like wheat, vines and olive trees. Today, the trail gives a clear picture of how the Mediterranean landscape was shaped by the work of local farmers.
As you walk, signs explain different aspects of the garrigue, from grazing and charcoal making to truffle hunting. It is a simple and interesting way to understand the connection between the land and the aqueduct, and how both the Roman engineers and the farmers contributed to the landscape around the Pont du Gard.
We then returned to the car to continue toward Arles.
Evening in Arles
Arles welcomed us with narrow streets, creamy stone façades and a soft evening glow. Our apartment was tucked into a residential block on Rue André Benoît, with quiet surroundings and an easy welcome. Once we unpacked, we walked to a nearby supermarket to buy fruit and yoghurt for breakfast, then returned to drop everything off and get ready for dinner.
Le Gibolin became the most memorable restaurant of our trip. The dining room felt intimate, with warm lighting, close tables and a gentle hum of conversation. The menu was handwritten on a blackboard, changing with the seasons. For starters, we ordered a warm skate salade à la grenobloise, which was bright and tender with capers and lemon, and roast potatoes. We also had the roasted white asparagus with orange sabayon, which was delicate and fragrant.
My main dish was a hake fillet, with romanesco broccoli, spinach, carrot purée and a white butter sauce. Each element was cooked with care, and the flavours balanced one another beautifully. Victor ordered the beef chuck with red wine sauce, mashed potatoes and leeks. The beef was incredibly tender.
For dessert, we shared a cheese — demi Saint Marcellin from la mère Richard, which was creamy and full of character. Then a tarte tatin arrived, served warm with Armagnac chantilly that tasted faintly of caramel and spice. Everything felt thoughtful and generous. It was the perfect way to begin our time in Arles.
A Roman Morning in Nîmes
The next day, we drove to Nîmes. The road was quiet, and the fields beside us were lined with olive trees and low hedges. We parked near the arena and walked inside. The amphitheatre is one of the best preserved in the Roman world. It was built in the first century, around the same period as the Colosseum in Rome, and could once hold more than twenty thousand spectators. The design followed the typical Roman layout: an elliptical arena in the centre, surrounded by steep seating arranged in tiers, and a network of corridors and stairways that allowed people to circulate efficiently throughout the structure.
Walking through those corridors, it was easy to understand how advanced Roman engineering was. The vaulted passageways were solid and cool, and the symmetry of the arches created a clear sense of order. We climbed to different viewpoints and looked across the arena, imagining how it would have appeared when filled with crowds. The scale felt impressive without being overwhelming, and the stonework has survived with remarkable clarity. Even after two thousand years, the structure still communicates how central public gatherings were to life in Roman Nîmes.
Musée de la Romanité
Across from the amphitheatre, the Musée de la Romanité stood with its modern, curved façade. The exterior looks almost like a woven surface, designed to echo the patterns of Roman mosaics. It created an interesting contrast with the stone arches of the amphitheatre just across the square.
Inside, the galleries were bright and easy to navigate. The first rooms displayed sculptures and fragments of architectural decoration, along with several painted fresco panels that showed the colours and motifs used in Roman domestic interiors.
Farther into the museum, the focus shifted to mosaics. These were some of the most striking pieces, laid out in wide, open rooms that allowed you to see the patterns clearly. The designs ranged from geometric floors to detailed scenes with animals and figures, and the colours were still surprisingly vivid.
We spent about two hours moving through the exhibitions, looking at mosaics, sculptures, everyday objects and reconstructed spaces that showed how people once lived in Roman Nîmes. The museum offered a clear and organised overview of the city’s history, and it complemented the visit to the amphitheatre very well.
We then had lunch at La Table du 2, located on the museum’s upper floor. The large windows offered a close view of the amphitheatre, and the atmosphere was relaxed. It was a pleasant place to pause before continuing our walk.
Maison Carrée
After lunch, we walked to the Maison Carrée. The temple stands in an open square, and its columns are well preserved. Its simple, symmetrical design makes it one of the most recognisable Roman buildings in France. The pale stone reflected the sunlight and gave the whole square a calm feel.
Jardin de la Fontaine
We continued to the Jardin de la Fontaine, one of the highlights of Nîmes. The garden is spacious and calm, with terraces, staircases and water features surrounded by tall trees. The main fountain sits at the centre, framed by stone balustrades and old statues that give the space a classical feel.
Within the grounds is the Temple of Diana, a partly ruined Roman structure with high arches and fragments of walls that suggest its original size. Even in its damaged state, the building has a clear presence and sits naturally within the landscape of the garden.
After walking through the site, we stopped at a small café in the park. We ordered coffee and shared a lemon and sugar crêpe, enjoying the break before continuing uphill to the Tour Magne. The café overlooked the trees and fountains, and it was a pleasant place to pause for a moment.
Tour Magne
From the garden, we followed the path uphill to Tour Magne. The climb was steady, and once inside the tower, we continued up the narrow staircase to the top. The view over the city was wide and clear. The amphitheatre and rooftops were visible from above, and it gave a good sense of how the city is arranged.
Wandering the Écusson District
We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the Écusson, the historic centre of Nîmes. The streets were quiet in the late afternoon, with cafés and small shops scattered around corners and small squares. As we walked, we began to notice a recurring symbol on manhole covers, shop signs and even some building façades: a crocodile chained to a palm tree. It is the emblem of Nîmes, adopted during the Roman era. The symbol refers to Octavian’s victory over Cleopatra and Mark Antony in Egypt. Roman veterans from that campaign were later given land in Nîmes, and the image of the crocodile became a visual reminder of their achievements and the city’s connection to Rome.
We visited the cathedral and wandered through Place du Marché before heading to dinner, enjoying the slow pace of the late afternoon.
Dinner in Nîmes
We had dinner at Le Menestrel, a small restaurant with a comfortable atmosphere. For starters, we shared two dishes. The first was asparagus with lemon pesto and Parmesan cheese, which was bright and fresh. The second was a crispy Nîmes brandade, a regional salted cod dish that was warm and comforting.
For the main course, Victor ordered the beef steak with anchovy butter, served with a Cantal cheese and potato muffin. I had the fish of the day, which was small octopus, served with Camargue rice and spinach. Both plates were generous and well-balanced.
For dessert, I decided to order both a cheese course and something sweet. The cheese was a mature goat’s cheese called Crottin Affiné. Goat’s cheese has been produced in the Poitou-Charentes region for more than four hundred years, and this small round cheese is one of its most traditional styles. The rind is white, and the interior is pale and firm. When young, the flavour is mild and slightly tangy, but as it matures, it becomes fuller in flavour and develops a firmer texture. After the cheese, we had baba-style madeleines, which were light and soaked gently in syrup. It was a simple but satisfying way to end the meal.
We returned to Arles after dinner, ready to rest before another day of exploring. The first part of our trip had already introduced us to so many aspects of Occitanie, from ancient engineering to regional food. The next morning, we would stay close to Arles and spend time in the city itself before heading toward the wide open spaces of the Camargue.
Are you drawn more to the history, the landscapes or the food of Occitanie?
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