The Gypsy Festival of Les Maries

Finding Mary Magdalene Blog Series.

Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, Part 1: The Gypsy Festival of Les Maries

Originally Published: June 2, 2014

As Provençal legend has it, Mary Magdalene arrived on the shores of Gaul with Mary Salome and Mary Jacobe, and possibly Joseph of Arimathea. The mystery and intrigue of this legend involves a woman named Saint Sara. Some claim she was a native of Gaul who greeted the party fleeing the Roman Empire. Others say she arrived on the boat with the Marys, either an Egyptian handmaiden to Mary Magdalene, or better yet, the secret daughter of Jesus and Mary. Either way, Saint Sara has become the patron saint of the Romani people the world round, and I was headed there for the annual festival in honor of Saint Sara.

Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer is a tiny beach town in the Camargue region of France. It is surrounded by a national park that is filled with long green grass and canals, all of which accommodate migratory birds from Africa. The feel is somewhere between American west and Spanish Conquistador.

But before I found myself in Les Maries, I first had to find a way to get there from Arles–an exquisitely BEAUTIFUL town in France. So, I made my way to the tourist office and started a conversion with another woman looking to get to the festival. As it turns out, Celice, a Venezuelan national, was also on a pilgrimage. Hers revolved around the Camino de Santiago in Spain, but overlapped with the western French sites associated with my Mary Magdalene pilgrimage. Celice and I became fast friends. In fact, we were inseparable for those few days at the festival.

Celice and I found the bus, (super easy and way cheap), to Les Maries. We chatted the whole time about our pilgrimage experiences thus far, and also about all we hoped would happen at the festival.

As the bus approached our destination, it turned out that our hotels were right next to one another. (Kind of strange for a small town with several hotels). I laughed at the synchroncity. She told me she stopped seeing our similarities and meeting in Arles as coincidences, but as something more predestined. I walked her to her hotel first, and made a plan to meet her in two hours, but she insisted on walking me to my hotel for check-in, as well.

The moments that followed were very telling of what would come: My hotel had never received my reservation and down payment from the third party site I had originally booked through. And to top it off, they were completely booked for the festival. In her fashion, Celice said, “No problem, she’s staying with me.” In disbelief, I gladly accepted her offer.

My ex-hotel invited us to their private dinner/flamenco show that night. We gleefully arrived amongst the colorful guests, and were seduced by the home-cooked food and soulful Spanish gypsy music. Gypsies from the crowd, including a family from Brazil, danced and sang, as we shared wine and a love for the beautiful music.

Exhausted, yet in anticipation for the following day’s culminating fesitval event,The Procession of Saint Sara, Celice and I returned to the hotel, hardly able to sleep a wink. For my part, I thanked my guardian angels for the new friend, and angel, they sent my way.

READ NEXT BLOG: The Procession of Saint Sara

The Relics of Sainte Marie Madeleine

FINDING MARY MAGDALENE BLOG SERIES.

“Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume: The Relics of Sainte Marie Madeleine”

Originally Published: May 31st, 2014

I arrived in Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume with a pep in my step. I had just an hour to experience the Magdalene presence there before returning my car in Aix-en-Provence.

First, I decided to find a pastry to enjoy with my morning coffee. As luck would have it, I walked into the best artisinal patisserie in all of France! The shop was full of beautiful meringues adorned with pines nuts and delicate-looking tartes. My stomach only wanted a pain-au-chocolat, but my eyes feasted on them all. I walked across the way to a sidewalk cafe and ordered a cafe creme, which tasted somewhere like a caffè latte. After an exquisite moment of cafe life à la française, I was off in the direction of the basilica of St. Maximin.

St. Maximin has at its medieval core a basilica that is seemingly basic from the outside…that is until you enter, unsuspecting, through its doors. Prepare yourself to be dazzled by the glory of its grandeur in praise of the Magdalene. Walking into the large, dark, and cavernous space, I felt as if I was entering the underworld or perhaps the womb of Mother Earth.

I was mesmerized by the magnificent stained glass windows at the front of the church. The rays of the sun hit the windows and illuminated the “underworld” interior of the church. As I admired the way the light from the outside world lit up the interior space, I suddenly realized why the Church constructed these sacred spaces in this fashion. These churches were built to convey such ominous darkness so that the partitioners would feel as if the priest, who stood completely illuminated by the rays of the sun, was their only hope for salvation.  

AHA! I thought. The church was the first indoor theater house! They created a spectacle of heaven and hell right before the public’s eyes; complete with a psychological and spriitual sensation of purgatory.  

After this realization, I found myself nearly back where I started. That is, until I turned toward the central pews, and saw it: the staircase that led to the crypt and the skull of Mary Magdalene. Touching the arch above my head, I cautiously descended the staircase, into the depths of the basilica.

The small crypt contained Christian artifacts protected by glass on all sides. Hidden behind thick glass and a golden iron gate, was the blackened skull of Mary Magdalene. It was encased in glass and adorned with stiff golden hair, and some sort of “ancient” outfit. I looked into where her eyes would have been, and thought it so strange that this skull was kept and honored in such a way. Whether it actually Mary or not, we may never know. I bowed my head in respect for Magdalene, and left the mysterious chamber. 

St. Maximin and La Stainte-Baume had shared qualities that I felt drawn to: an energy; a presence; a reverence for a person who showed such love, compassion, devotion, and strength, and taught this to the world through her actions.

I left the basilica and traveled down the tiny streets of St. Maximin. On the way I passed souvenir shops, bakeries, and eye glass stores–the French love their eye glasses. I found my car and went onward for Aix-en-Provence. Before nightfall, I would be in Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer for the annual gypsy festival honoring Saint Sara. This proved to be my biggest adventure yet!

READ NEXT BLOG: Les Saintes Maries de la Mer, Day 1