The Rhone Delta is a crucial “rest stop” for migratory birds from the Western Palearctic, and not only for them. Between the arms of the river, in the endless expanse of reeds, wild boar have found a first-class refuge. Welcome to the Camargue region, for a hunt between land and sea.
In June, the first crowds of tourists make their way to Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer. On the main road linking the Camargue’s capital city to the mainland, we discover a hybrid environment: sometimes stretches of water, sometimes grain crops, with the two biotopes separated by expanses of reeds. This landscape mosaic extends over 145,000 hectares and makes the area a haven for birds, of which there are around 343 species. Crops, forests, water – ideal conditions for wild boar, much to the dismay of farmers.
When visitors reach “Les Saintes”, they are greeted by a monument topped by a Camargue cross. The work was created in 1926 by a local sculptor and symbolically links the gardians and the fishermen, the traditional trades of the Camargue people: a cross ending in tridents, an anchor, and a heart. Which is fitting, as we have an appointment with the “high priest” of the Camargue’s wild boars – Marc Monnet, who knows the region like the back of his hand. The man with the smile and immaculate hairstyle is known as the terror of the wild boar, and he prefers to hunt with the help of his horses, or stalking. For us, it will be a bit of both. Let’s get going!
After an excellent grilled fish that we enjoyed on the beach, we set off to explore the heart of the Camargue. The mistral is barely blowing, and Marc is worried about his guests. After all, the marshes are home to more than just birds and wild boar… As soon as we get out of our cars, billions of mosquitoes pounce on us and, before we can don our protective clothing, they bite into our obviously very appetizing flesh. Hell on earth. Fortunately, a net protects our faces. As we begin to move, we pass through a huge swarm of them. It’s impossible to focus on the hunt, and a young boar appearing out of nowhere stays alive, thanks to the insects capturing our attention… After two hours of walking through reeds and rice fields, the sun sets. As we head back to the cars, Marc suddenly stops and whispers: “They’re here!” We can’t see anything without binoculars, it’s too dark, but the 56-mm riflescope does its job and the illuminated dot comes to rest on a young boar. The shot pops and the muzzle flame momentarily blinds us. A grunt, a brief splashing through water, and then: silence.
A nightingale sings its melancholy tunes, unperturbed by all the hustle and bustle. Marc tries to locate the body of the wild boar with his flashlight, but the rice has already sprung up. We have to walk through the brackish water to find it. We stand barefoot and in our underpants in the rice and our friends, the mosquitoes, are having a great time.
Early the next morning, we leave Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer under a starry sky to take part in a boar hunt. Some areas of the Camargue are protected and may not be hunted. Marc is well aware of these protected areas and the surrounding farmland, where the boar do their damage at night. We have positioned ourselves on an embankment, rifle on shooting stick, and are ready to take on the wild boar, who have to cross a strip of water before entering their reserve. We are accompanied by Nicolas, a young farmer and young hunter, who explains to us that all animals must be shot with the exception of the lead sows. No sooner has he finished his instructions than three shots ring out on the right. Marc and Olivier seem to be in a good position, which is confirmed with a total of five boar shot in an hour. On our side, only one doe and her offspring tried to cross the shooting line. With success. As the sun floods this timeless landscape, we can see the Alpilles in the distance, a mountain range that borders the Camargue to the north, while a flock of pink flamingos cuts through the azure sky.
Now the mistral blows in gusts, forcing the mosquitoes to hide, so that we can finally enjoy this natural paradise as we recover our colleagues’ game. And then it’s time to set course for the Maguelonne farm, where Marc offers us a ride on a Camargue horse. These short-legged, semi-feral horses, like the famous bulls, are native to the region and perfectly adapted to the water environment. Marc once again gives us a glimpse behind the scenes of this wonderful place, where he always recharges his batteries. But that’s another story. Olé Marco!
