Why the River Rhone should be your next river cruise

Screeching to a halt, I hop off my ebike to see what my guide is pointing at.

“Look,” whispers Geraldine Cognet. “Otters.”

I gasp as I spot an adult and cub paddling in the stream beneath my feet – something I’ve always wanted to see in the wild.

It’s the highlight of my 22km tour from Tournon-sur-Rhone’s wooden suspension bridge to Glun and back, which is part of an 850km gravel trail along the River Rhone.

With no shade and 37°C heat, pausing for the otters is also a chance to reapply suncream.

Our next stop is by some red and blue wooden boats bobbing on a lake on an island.

“Every summer, rugby players use the boats to joust while doing the splits,” Geraldine giggles. “Each match takes a minute and it’s a festive affair, with live music and alcohol.”

Returning to the town along the river, I spot campers and men fishing for catfish, which Geraldine says can grow 2.5m long.

The bike tour is one of the daily active excursions that Emerald Cruises offers its guests, and while I’m on its Sensations of Lyon & Provence itinerary in the south of France, I seize the opportunity to do them all.

A gem of a ship

Within an hour of landing at Marseille I have boarded Emerald Liberté, which is docked by a 19th-century bridge just five minutes’ stroll from the limestone gates of Arles.

After checking into my Panorama Balcony Suite – which has a window that slides down at the touch of a button – my sister and I check out the ship.

There’s a pool at the back, and a bar, lounge and al fresco deck at the front.

Glass walls in the restaurant bring the outside in. When dusk falls, I watch the sun set while looping the sundeck.

It’s a balmy 30°C – even after dark – and after a month of summer rain at home, I relish the warmth.

Starry, starry night

On our first morning, our guide Ghislaine Bongiovanni shows us Arles’ Roman colosseum, which was built for 20,000 spectators in 90AD.

Sitting on a cool stone seat, I imagine the gladiators – prisoners or athletes – who once fought bears, lions and wild boar here.

We visit Le Café la Nuit next, its buttercup yellow awning recognisable from Vincent van Gogh’s Terrasse du Café le Soir, one of the 300 works he painted while living at Arles in 1888.

“It was cream when Van Gogh painted it, but it looked yellow because of the street lamps,” Ghislaine explains. “The owner later painted it yellow so tourists could find it.” Ghislaine also shows us the leafy plaza featured in the artist’s The Courtyard of the Hospital in Arles (1889), which now belongs to the cultural centre Espace Van Gogh.

With its cobbled squares, pavement cafés and abundant Roman ruins – the town also has a theatre dating back to 30BC – it’s easy to see why Arles attracted Vincent van Gogh.

Artists are still drawn to its beauty, and today France’s ‘capital of photography’ hosts a photo festival every summer.

Even if you miss this, independent galleries line the town’s lanes, which are draped with vines like washing hanging out to dry. That afternoon, I pay extra for an excursion to the village of Les Baux-de- Provence, journeying past vineyards and through avenues of plane trees.

Eagles and vultures fly over farmhouses with terracotta tiled roofs and gardens bursting with bougainvillea.

The Greeks cultivated olive trees in Provence as early as 600BC, but after frost killed 80 per cent of the crop in 1789, locals developed a basket- weaving industry and planted vines. Today the area has 13 wine estates.

An accordionist greets us in the village (population 400), which is known as one of the most beautiful in France.

Meandering in its alleyways, I pop into a limestone chapel and shops selling soap, nougat and olive oil en route to the 11th-century castle, which looms over the Entreconque Valley.

Limestone hills cocoon fields of sheep and rows of olive trees divided by cypress and almond trees. It’s beautiful, but at 38°C, too hot to linger. The air is thick with the hum of cicadas.

We return to Arles for a dinner prepared by Fabien Morreale, a finalist from the TV show Top Chef. I opt for merlon with a Parmesan and parsley crust, Aix-en-Provence cheese, and an olive oil cake with caramel sauce and mousse – his grandmother’s recipe – then walk it off along the riverbank.

Looking up, I see it’s a ‘Starry Night’ indeed.

The bridge to nowhere

From day one I fall into a routine of Pilates and yoga classes by the infinity pool.

Fortunately, my suite (330) is next door, so I roll out of bed and pad into the studio every morning, admiring the tangerine sky.

The ship’s innovative design means the bottom of the pool rises to become the studio floor.

At our next stop, guide Andres Suarez takes a group of us on an eight-kilometre kayaking excursion downstream to Avignon.

It’s baking hot, with surround-sound cicadas. White butterflies flutter round us as we paddle past dilapidated houseboats.

“The River Rhone crafted a valley through limestone mountains,” Andres explains. “A rocky hill was essential to the foundation of the city,” he adds, pointing to the cathedral that is now perched upon it, topped with a gilded Virgin Mary sculpture.

The tour ends by Avignon’s broken bridge, which originally had 22 arches. Its remaining four are now part of a Unesco world heritage site.

Following an extra excursion to the Pont du Gard – the spectacular triple- height Roman aqueduct completed in 60AD – and the sun-speckled square at Uzès, I explore Avignon alone before we depart for our next stop.

A taste of honey

In Viviers I join guide Tina Fredrikstad on a five-kilometre hike to a Virgin Mary statue atop a 300m hill, where I’m rewarded with a panorama of the river and village.

Back in the main square I peruse a farmers’ market, its stalls temptingly laden with local cheese and honey. After lunch I borrow an ebike and set off along the river.

The quiet gravel road morphs into a bumpy, single-file footpath, then woodland dappled with sunlight. Corn whips my arms in the narrow sections as I whizz past waves lapping at grey sand beaches, one of which has a makeshift driftwood bench.

No one’s around, only two farmhouses, their shutters closed, and a few butterflies dancing on the breeze. Fields of sunflowers turn their smiling faces to the sun.

Red, red wine

After a good night’s sleep, the next day I join guide Geraldine on a five- kilometre hike from Tournon to the famous vineyard of Tain-l’Hermitage.

Along the way we pass a statue of Marc Seguin, who invented the suspension bridge and the hot air balloon.

We also spot a 14th-century high school – France’s oldest – and a 15th-century fort that housed PoWs in the First World War. Specialising in powerful reds made from the Syrah grape, the vineyard is proudly biodynamic.

“That means it doesn’t use herbicides, insecticides or big machines like tractors to irrigate the land, as vines make better wine when they’re dehydrated,” Geraldine explains. “Instead, growers use natural insecticide; pigs and sheep eat the weeds and most work is done by hand or with mules. Agave straw and recycled paper are used to tie the vines.”

Naturally, the resulting vintages don’t come cheap. “It’s a special occasion wine,” Geraldine adds, as we browse bottles on the shelves at Boutique Terres de Syrah

After lunch and the bike ride to Glun, I circle Tournon before a dinner of buttery risotto flecked with apple and crushed walnuts and topped with perch.

Lopping Lyon

It’s just as well, then, that I can burn off all that butter on another bike ride.

This time, I join Jonathan Moreno to tour Lyon, a city of 2.5million. We circumnavigate Parc de la Tete d’Or, a 19th-century public space almost the size of London’s Hyde Park, where we see a lake, greenhouse and zoo with giraffes, zebras and flamingos.

Next we pass Grand Hotel-Dieu, a 12th-century former hospital that’s now a five-star hotel.

We admire City Hall, an equine sculpture by the architect of the Statue of Liberty, and one of the 3D multi-storey murals that modern Lyon is known for.

Parking our bikes outside the colonnaded Palace of Justice, we explore historic Lyon – a Unesco world heritage site – on foot.

“Lyon developed in the 14th century because of the silk industry,” Jonathan explains. “The city traded silk through traboules – secret passageways – which the Resistance used to escape the Nazis in the Second World War. About 50 are left, and 10 are open to the public.”

We dip into one, and the buzz of city life dissolves. We emerge into a cobbled street filled with the aroma of praluline, a praline brioche bun speckled with pink sugar, before visiting Lyon’s 13th-century Gothic cathedral in an old square.

After a quick lunch, I squeeze in an extra excursion with guide Jana Dejoux to Perouges, a medieval village with pebbled lanes that’s home to a bakery, artists’ studios and a 12th-century castle joined to a church.

“Villagers once poured boiling tar on to enemies who invaded the town walls,” says Jana.

A fond farewell

On our penultimate day, I explore Chalon-sur-Saone, another pretty medieval town with a church and a plaza bordered by cafés with canopies – even the local tattooist is housed within a 15th-century half-timbered property.

Back on board, my sister and I taste cheese and wine before orbiting the sundeck. Flocks of birds dip and dive through wispy cirrus clouds above the river, which is rippled like silk bedsheets.

Relishing the warm breeze on my face, I observe people paddling by the bank, eking out the last of the sun. When it finally slips beneath the horizon, the moon appears, its reflection shimmering on the water.

The stars shine just as bright, just like on my first night back in Arles.