From the boat's deck, the castle's pale golden mass seems to rise straight out of the Rhône. Its walls plunge into the river, with no moat or hill, as if the fortress had been set on the water. Tarascon, between Avignon and Arles, owes its name to a legendary monster and its silhouette to a builder king. Boats moor right in the heart of this small Provençal town, a few minutes' walk from the ramparts. Rarely does a river call offer such a shortcut between the gangway and the Middle Ages.

King René's castle

Built between 1400 and 1435 by the Dukes of Anjou, Counts of Provence, the castle is among the best-preserved fortresses in France. King René, the last Count of Provence, made it a court residence where festivities and tournaments were held. The visit takes you through more than thirty rooms, from the kitchens to the apartments, to the apothecary of the former Saint-Nicolas hospital with its rows of earthenware jars. The reward awaits at the very top: from the panoramic terrace, the view sweeps over the river, the town's rooftops and, across the water, the rival castle of Beaucaire.

Saint Martha and the river monster

Legend has it that an amphibious creature, the Tarasque, devoured boatmen and livestock until Saint Martha tamed it with the sign of the cross. The Collegiate Church of Saint Martha, steps from the fortress, holds the saint's tomb in its crypt, a place of pilgrimage since the 12th century. As for the monster, it still parades: every late June, the Fêtes de la Tarasque, established by King René in 1474, carry its effigy through the streets. These processional giants are now part of UNESCO's Intangible Cultural Heritage.

Strolling through the old town

Past the gates of the walls, narrow streets line up façades with faded shutters, shady little squares and old arcades. On Tuesday mornings, the market spreads out its stalls of olives, goat cheeses and colourful fabrics along the boulevards. Fabric lovers will recognize the birthplace of Souleïado, the house that keeps traditional Provençal printing alive: its museum, set in a mansion, displays thousands of carved woodblocks once used to print the famous patterns. On non-market days, the shops on the neighbouring streets and the artisans' workshops are more than enough to fill a stroll, and residents gladly greet passing visitors.

A balcony over Provence

The call also lends itself to an excursion in the area, often offered from the dock. Avignon and its Palace of the Popes are about 23 km upstream, Arles and its Roman arena some twenty kilometres downstream, and the villages of the Alpilles, Saint-Rémy-de-Provence first among them, a quarter of an hour's drive away. Local guides often accompany these outings and pepper the trip with anecdotes. Those who stay ashore lose nothing: walking along the banks of the Rhône at the foot of the ramparts at sunset is one of the gentlest moments of the trip.

Local flavours

On the terraces of the market square, aperitif hour feels like a ritual. A glass of rosé from the nearby hillsides, a few cracked olives from the Baux valley, a bit of tapenade on toasted bread: Provence is tasted simply. Bakeries also sell the navette, an elongated biscuit scented with orange blossom, the perfect companion to a coffee before returning on board.

In the evening, when floodlights illuminate the walls and the current makes their reflection shimmer, you understand why captains like to spend the night here. Tarascon keeps the scale of a small town and the memory of great times. All it takes is a tamed monster and a poet king to give a few hours ashore the flavour of a fairy tale.