Pont du Gard

There was a change of plans today. Instead of driving to the east we drove about 80 kilometres west to see the monumental Roman aqueduct at Pont du Gard.

Thousands of tonnes of stone lifted up to a height of more than ten storeys, just to transport water to Nimes. Quite a lot of work, isn't that. And to think it was only the crowning jewel of a much more massive system of aqueducts and pipes. How much slave labour it must have taken ... maybe it was a relatively efficient way to move water between the hills on either bank of the Gardon. Or maybe it was intended, at least in part, as a monument: a reminder of the power and majesty of Imperial Rome. That is certainly what it has become today, the pipes having moved entirely underground. Meanwhile the rest of the Roman water transport system has gone to ruins, entirely neglected and almost forgotten except as a matter of historical interest. Only the its most conspicious and potent symbols, such as the Pont, remain. The quotidian and practical have disappeared, have been superseded by new and improved versions; the symbolic remains, invested perhaps with new layers of meanings and the shades of history, but still to some extent preserved.
Maybe that will always be the fate of the concrete and the immediate, to be submerged by the tides of time. Only the symbolic, the abstract will survive in some form. Repositories of memory may collapse, fall into disuse, be upgraded, demolished, or otherwise disappear. But memory itself, though more malleable, can be infinitely more durable.
The aqueduct reminded me, somewhat, of 都江堰. Both were important pieces of infrastructure, involving water, built around two thousand years ago. The area around both have been turned into well-kept parks which preserve the natural vegetation and environment of their locales. But 都江堰 irrigates thousands of acres of farmland in the Chengdu plain, benefiting thousands of farmers and feeding many, many more. The aqueduct merely carried water to one city, Nimes. No doubt it was a major city, and the provision of clean, fresh water was no small matter, but relatively speaking it is a modest contribution to human welfare. The former is still in use and helps to irrigate farmland today, whereas the Pont du Gard is now merely an awe-inspiring monument.
After Pont du Gard we drove back through (instead, inadverently, of around) the walled city of Avignon, skirted Cavaillon again and dropped by Ménebres, Lacoste, Bonnieux and St.-Saturnin before heading back to Apt.