Annecy, and Christmas Markets

Annecy, seen from the castle on the hill.

Ah, it’s been a while since our last post. We’ve been settled in at home, enjoying the warm fall weather and preparing—mentally, at least—for our upcoming trip back to the States. Lately the temperatures have been dropping in Montpellier; we’ve been cranking up the heat even as we worry about the energy consumption. We figured we needed to get out of town, to someplace even colder: the delightful town of Annecy, at the foot of the Alps.

It’s north of us, almost to the Swiss border. Three of us went on this little jaunt, including our good friend and travel companion, Debra. Rather than flying or driving, we took the TGV (Très Grande Vitesse), France’s high-speed train, which was a fun experience all by itself.

 

Debra and Paula, at the new, huge, deserted Sud de France station.

The train left from the new station in Montpellier, a bit outside the city near the airport. It’s a huge station and mostly deserted, having been completed just in time for the pandemic lockdown. (While we would have preferred to leave from the station just a short walk from our apartment, the intercity trains tend leave from the new station; eventually only the locals will come into town.)

Paula aboard our first class car; those are our seats in the lower right.

The train itself was fantastic! First class tickets were only very slightly more expensive, and came with  wider seats and fewer people. The three of us sat together across a little table, and we had the bonus of a nearly-empty car. It was a quick and very pleasurable ride up to the city of Lyon, where we changed trains for a smaller and slower local. But again, it was nearly empty and we enjoyed winding our way through the foothills. And, the station in Annecy is in the middle of town. Along the short walk to our lodgings we marveled at the shops (Le Libraire Imaginaire, The Imaginary Bookstore… Really?), the setting (canals; a lake; mountains!), and the season (Christmas decorations!).

 

Classic view of a canal in the old city.

Canals running past the colorful old buildings were endlessly attractive.

Annecy’s location at the head of a long quiet lake at the foot of the Alps, surrounded by snow-capped mountains, gives it a strong mountain vibe. It’s too low (about 1000 feet elevation) to be a ski town, but it’s on the road to the mountains!

 

Our first day, on the bridge over the gray, placid lake.

The town is incredibly picturesque, with its canals and lake. In the evenings, though, what got our attention were the Christmas markets. Every city in France—heck, every city in Europe—has a Christmas market, including Montpellier, where we live. Somehow, though, the ones in Annecy seemed more lively than the one in Montpellier. More interesting. Brighter and fresher!

 

A Christmas market in Annecy.

Raclette, being served at the Christmas market.

Annecy has three or four small Christmas markets, all fit within a few blocks. It was quite a joy to discover each one and its distinct flavor. We took particular interest in the vin chaud (warm wine). Each of the markets had a vendor or two with huge copper kettles set over small burners, with red and white wine, cider (alcoholic), and spiced apple juice. And that became the start of our evening promenades, sampling the vin chaud.

This was our dinner one night: pasta served out of a bowl carved from a wheel of parmigiana!

 

This repurposed gondola car is a link to the ski trails. More importantly, it's a cute place to rest, or enjoy a vin chaud from the nearby market!

Our first night we went to a restaurant offering the local specialty, raclette. We’d heard of this very special dish and were anxious to try it out. 

Us, in the raclette restaurant. The cheese and the heater are to the right.

A half-wheel of cheese is placed in a special holder with an electric heating element. The surface of the cheese melts, and when it’s good and runny the surface is scraped, oozing melted cheese onto a plate. Normally it’s eaten over boiled potatoes, but other vegetables, or charcuterie (prepared meats like ham or sausage) can also be used. (And what kind of cheese is used? Why, it’s called Raclette d´Annecy. Hope that helps!) 

Scraping the melted cheese...

I can easily imagine people in times past pulling a cheese and potatoes from the cellar, in the middle of winter with the snows all around. It’s a real comfort, this kind of food! 

At that same meal we also tried a true fondue (from the past participle of the French verb fondre, to melt), stirring bits of hearty bread around in pots of melted cheese with long-handled forks. It was all very good—and completely satisfied our desires for cheese for the next few days!.

 

This door opened on a tunnel that lead to the elevator to our upstairs apartment. The owner told us the residence had been in his family for three generations.

The days may have been dark and overcast, but the nights were full of color!

THE classic photo of Annecy! This medieval castle sits in the middle of the canal, in the middle of town.

One of several boulangeries in the old town.

Every day we found new cutesy nooks.

We devoted one day to walking along the lake shoreline. We didn’t get very far, actually. All the travel photos show flowers, and grass, and sunny skies. This time of year, though, it was cold with a heavy overcast. We did enjoy our walk, though, and the views down the lake with the snowy mountains in the near distance. But it was chilly and we were glad to get back and settled into our favorite café for—yup, a warming glass of vin chaud.

 

There were a few flowers left this late in the year!

Debra and Paula admire the view down the lake on a Chilly December afternoon.

Our trip was short, but we were very pleased with our stay in this endlessly charming town. (Causing Paula to wonder, Is it possible to die of cuteness?)

 

Colorful during the day, even under the heavy overcast...

...but Christmas lights made nighttime in the city very special!

Debra and Paula have fun with fall(ing) leaves.

We had a bit of a glitch on the trip home: a train strike! No trains for the return trip, but fortunately there was a bus, direct to Montpellier. It took longer, and we saw far more of urban back streets than we cared to, but it was warm and comfortable. We’d payed a bit extra for front-row seats, so we sat right behind that giant picture window with a fine view of the road ahead. 

Shortly after dark we were back in the relative warmth of Montpellier, pleased with our trip and glad to be home.

 

Our panoramic view from the bus as we head south from Annecy.

 

In a few days we will be leaving the chill of Montpellier for our winter quarters in Seville, Spain, as we do every December. We’ll be connecting up there with friends, and our daughter, Nina, and her husband Riki. Stay tuned!

 

Looking down the length of the lake, snow-covered mountains and all.

Montpellier in the Fall, and Sommières

 

The rooftops of Sommières.

It’s fall in Montpellier again. The leaves are turning, and falling off the trees. It’s not as spectacular as New England, but, unlike California, it’s clear something’s happening. After that nasty hot humid summer we’ve finally gotten relief in the form of weeks of glorious weather. Now it’s still warm, but we’ve lost the sun and gained plenty of atmospheric moisture. Overcast, and feeling of rain… but all we get is humidity. We’ve been waiting for winter like the drop of the other shoe, but it’s still not cold. Hooray!

The Saturday market under Les Arceaux

Another sign of fall: we went to one of our favorite markets, the Saturday market under the old aqueduct (called Les Arceaux—the Arches). This is a true farmers’ market, with producers bringing their fruits and vegetables, fish and cheeses, roast suckling pigs and poor naked little skinned rabbits. (Other weekly markets sell clothes, bedding, housewares… but not this one.)

These mushrooms are called cèpes--they're big!

Sliced up cèpes and some unidentified tiny champignons.

And it's not just the mushrooms that are gorgeous.

And we saw something we hadn’t seen before: mushrooms! Champignons. Funghi. Setas. Big ones, that I’d never seen before. I don’t like to eat mushrooms, but they sure are interesting!

It's a popular place!

Oh, and those arches… the aqueduct was built in 1765 to supply water to the growing city of Montpellier. If it bears a resemblance to the Pont du Gard, the Roman aqueduct from 16 centuries (!) earlier, it’s because the builder, Henri Pitot, built the roadway at the base of the Pont du Gard. And he, apparently, was quite taken with the original design. (Read about our visit here.)

Le Pont du Gard in the winter sunshine; inspiration for Les Arceaux.

Henri Pitot was a local, born—and died—in a small town near Montpellier. Tasked with measuring the flow of the river Seine through Paris, he essentially developed hydrodynamics, the study of moving fluids. Today every modern aircraft has a Pitot tube, a—yes—tube that uses Pitot’s principles to measure air speed.

 

Ran into our neighbors on the street the other day. Nothing makes you feel settled like running into people you know! He pointed out that their building hasn’t had to turn the heat on yet. That’s a particularly good thing, given the run-up in natural gas prices due to the war.

Speaking of gas, France has a different battle going on: nationwide refinery strikes. (Something about windfall oil company profits leading to significant raises for company executives, but nothing for the workers… same old story!) Many stations haven’t had fuel, so we’ve been keeping a low car profile. But after three weeks of not starting the engine we decided that enough was enough, and five of us went on a little day trip.

The bridge into Sommieres.

Our goal was the town of Sommières and its most excellent Saturday morning flea market.

The tree-shaded market place near the river.

We were there about a year ago, and were happy to return. The town is built along a river, quite a lovely site. The market specializes in brocante, stuff that fits in that wide gap between genuine antiques and junk. Kitchen stuff like glasses (both matched sets and bizarre one-offs) and grandma’s china set. Lamps from the 50s and 60s. Odd decorative items in colors long out of fashion. And my personal favorite, tools. Old tools. Mostly cleaned and polished and oiled and ready to go to work. Most with functions that are obvious, but also quite a few purpose-designed for a particular special task in a field that no longer exists. Horse shoeing pillars. Hammers and wedges used in barrel making. One table had an exquisite collection of weights for use in pan balances, fitted boxes holding a dozen or more brass weights ranging from 10 grams to one kilogram.

Pruning tools, used in the vineyard.

Stuff, important to someone, some time. The busts on top are Tintin, a character in the incredibly popular comic
 of the same name, and the Captain (I think), also in the same comic. As for the rest...

More tools! I particularly like those wooden-handled pipe wrenches.
(Wait... are those levels? I need a level! Why didn't I see those before...?) 

Wandering among the tables piled with goods, puzzling over their use, I got the feeling that I would have liked to want something. A tiny hope that something would show up that really spoke to me that I would bring home with great satisfaction and admire every day, feeling so pleased that I had found it.

We take a break for some refreshment, coffee and hot chocolate: Mark, Mary, Debra, Paul, Paula

But no. I’ve never been a collector, and our travels have trained us not to want things, however desirable, that would burden us. Someday we’re going to leave here, and the less we need to carry away the better! Nothing made the cut. 

Heading back to lunch from Sommieres.--our restaurant is at the end of the bridge on the far right.

We eventually reached our limit of admiring other people’s junk/fine collectables—lunch time! We’d booked at table at a crêperie on the river, just across the bridge from the town gate. It was endlessly pleasant, watching the water and studying the ancient bridge and the people crossing it. After (yet another!) fine lunch we re-crossed the bridge and entered the small but well-preserved town center.

 

Paula at lunch.

We go through the arch and into the town...

...for another of long-armed Mark's selfis.

We prowled through the stone streets, eventually finding the path to the former castle overlooking the town. After admiring the views out over the town and the countryside we headed back down. Passing a friendly café, we stopped for another round of coffee and hot chocolate.

A rather plain church with a rather plain name, "Eglise Catholique de Sommières". But vibrant. It's purple!

Really purple!

Mark got this photo of me taking a Sommières panorama.

It had been a good day. None of us had found anything that we really couldn’t do without. But it was a fine outing. We made our way back across the bridge to our car, and the drive home.

Nothing to do with Sommières, but a classic view of Montpellier in the fall sunlight.

And finally, from our terrace, a spectacular end-of-September double rainbow over the construction cranes.

The Auvergne

Sunset over the Auvergn countryside.

NOTE: This blog is out of our normal chronologic sequence. It fits in between the return from Brittany blog and the trip to Corsica blog.

 We returned from our Brittany trip feeling very satisfied with our travels, and also, unfortunately, very hot. While Brittany did offer some relief from the heat, we were now back in the south. Back in the heat!

It was a long drive back from Mont Saint-Michel, so we stopped along the way a few hours north of Montpellier, in the Auvergne region, famous for its cheese (like many areas in France!). It was quite pleasant, cool, and not so humid. It was so pleasant, in fact, that we thought we’d revisit it.

We contacted our friends Mark and Mary. Of course they would be up for a trip! And, bonus points, it was Mark’s birthday week. So plans were made…

 

Ah, Michelin! whatever gets you on the road...

We studied the maps, including the thick book of Michelin maps Mark & Mary had given me for my birthday. Lots to see, plenty of villages marked with two and even three Michelin stars. (In this case, the stars mean “worth seeing;” Michelin makes tires, remember, so restaurants, maps, travel advice… anything to get people out burning rubber!)

 

Auberge Les Volilieres

Paula booked us rooms at a true country auberge, miles from the nearest town and surrounded by rolling cow pastures, along a winding strip of asphalt barely two cars wide. This, I thought, is going to be either really good, or really bad…

An early morning walk among the cows.

 

It was really good! Large, comfortable rooms and baths. A huge communal dining room. Enclosed pool. Those rolling green pastures. And cool, cool weather! (We even had a tremendous storm come through.)

Shortly after our return from the Auvergne I found the list of towns we thought we might visit. Of the 12or 15 listed, we only went to two, I think. Yet every day we had a new adventure and found interesting and engaging places.

 

Mark & Mary near Eiffel's Viaduc du Garbit.

One sight we all wanted to see was the Viaduc du Garbit, a steel arch railway bridge spanning the Truyère river. When finished in 1884 it was the highest viaduct in the world, and had the longest span of any bridge (for a few years, anyway). More significantly today, it was designed by Gustave Eiffel, of Tower fame. In past trips through this region we’d caught tantalizing glimpses of it from the highway; this time we wanted to get close.

The bridge deck, arching across the river.

Each of those girders is made of hundreds of short steel strips riveted together.
No, they don't make 'em like they used to!

 We found the region really lovely and full of surprises. The biggest was perhaps the town of Brioude and its 13^th Century Basilique Saint-Julien. We had no idea this gem was there, and were so impressed with its construction, its design, its multi-colored brick walls, its pebble stone flooring, its windows… just its very existence, that we hung around ‘till the afternoon to take the (very amazing) tour of the church.

 

Basilique Saint-Julien in Brioude.

The rear entrance to Saint-Julien.

Waiting outside Saint-Julien's for the tour to start.

A carved face finishes off the bottom of this pillar.

A carved column in the upstairs chapel, with its amazing polychrome walls.

The mosaic floor made of river pebbles.

One downside of our auberge out in the country was a lack of restaurants—the nearest town was a good 40 minutes away. Ah, but not to worry, they had an excellent kitchen! The cost of our room included breakfast, and for a mere 19€ (about $22USD) more we could also have dinner. The dinners were quite good, and quite extensive; to the point that finishing everything became a challenge. The comble (the top; the most extreme point) came Wednesday evening when we were served aligot, the local specialty.

Aligot is made from the light semi-soft local cheese, Cantal, added to whipped potatoes, cream, and garlic. Lots of garlic. Lots of cream. And, for that matter, lots of Cantal. While we managed to clean our plates (most of us!), this local “comfort food” was much more than simply filling. We didn’t feel the need to eat much the next day, and in fact opted out of dinner in the dining hall that night for a picnic on the floor of our room!

Dinner time at the auberge: the 81-year-old grandma serving up her specialty, aligot
 (potatoes whipped up with garlic, cream, and lots of Cantal cheese).

But I was glad to try it. I’ve seen aligot offered in local restaurants and always wondered what it was. I expect the restaurants in Montpellier will come nowhere close to what we were served at the auberge!

 

One thing that made this trip stand out from previous ones is that we had our own car, releasing us from the constraints of a rental. Specifically, we weren’t limited to one driver (rental companies charge a hefty premium for multiple authorized drivers.)  

Mark is an enthusiastic driver. He likes to drive and he’s good at it. We were glad to have him with us! And he got to spend his birthday behind the wheel.

Another surprise: the village of Saint-Saturn. This is most of it.

Another corner of Saint-Saturn.

We found it novel and very fun to be driven around. We got to be tourists in our own car, relaxing in the back seat, watching the countryside roll by, and—very important—controlling the music.

On the final drive home we were able to share the hours behind the wheel, so we all arrived home more relaxed and in a better mood.

It was another very satisfying trip. We explored a new-to-us part of France, discovering some incredible sites. And we explored some new ideas in shared travel!

Some of the modern stained glass windows in Saint-Julien.
Painted by Kin En Jong, a Dominican of Korean descent. 

We’re now fully into the fall weather, and loving it! Nights are cool but not yet cold, days are sunny and warm. Good traveling weather! Our only plans at the moment are Seville for Christmas and New Years, and California after that. I’m sure we’ll work out a few day trips between now and then, though.