Montpellier. A Little History

Hôtel Baschy-du-Cayla doorway. Montpellier (1636)
From Wikipedia: By Auregann — Personal work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=18958727

Montpellier, our adopted city; is old. It has been around for almost 1000 years. The original buildings have mostly been replaced (I've heard that Montpellier is a city of 16th-century buildings over 13th-century cellars). The streets were laid out in the Middle Ages and haven't changed: narrow, curving, with the building walls high and often featureless. The walls, though, are interrupted by large doorways often decorated with intricate stone carvings.

What's behind those doors? We don't normally think of that, as we hurry by on our way to someplace else. But we recently took a tour of the city that got us behind some of those doors. It's a whole different world in there!

What's behind the doors? View from the courtyard of the Hôtel Beschy-du-Cayla, looking up at the interior façade.

This tour focused on the  hôtels particuliers of Montpellier. (For a long time we thought that hôtel meant  a group of private bedrooms rented out by the night for travelers and guests. In this sense, though, it means a private home. More specifically, a hôtel particulier is a large house built by a rich family to show off their wealth.)

Vaulted ceilings--so medieval!
Our group tours the Hôtel Baschy-du-Cayla

During the Middle Ages—specifically, the 11th, 12th, and 13th centuries—Montpellier was a bustling international center. The major economic drivers were the wool guild, providing cloth for clothes; the spice guild (which in this case included paper and dyes); and money changers. During this time every region had its own currency, so keeping track of coinage, currencies, and exchange rates was an important part of trade. All this economic activity made Montpellier one of the more important cities in the south, and one of the larger cities in France, with a population of around 40,000.

This success lead, of course, to the accumulation of immense wealth by some. These families, eager to show off what they had, built large houses in town. Our guide pointed out that these houses, many of which still exist, are quite plain on the outside. The stone walls are smooth and unadorned. 

The magnificence was reserved for the inside; only guests (other rich people) needed to be impressed! 

View from an interior courtyard. Sometime in the last few centuries the large arched opening was narrowed, to suit more "modern" styles and tastes.

An ancient room with modern furnishings (this building is now used by the city for meetings, and adult education classrooms).

However, the economy ground to a halt in the 14th century. There was, of course, the plague; when half the population dies, economic activity tends to slow down. And by 1380 only some 15,000 people were left in Montpellier.

Then there were wars; principally the 100 Years War between France and England, which lasted until the middle of the 15th century. War, of course, totally disrupts trade.

Our next stop was the Hôtel d'Autheville.
Photo from Google Street View

Interior courtyard of the Hôtel d'Autheville. Look at those wonderful stained glass windows!

Inside  views of the stained glass. Imagine coming and going past these windows every day!

Our guide, a local woman, was very very knowledgeable. And there is a lot to know, given the age of the city!

The rise of Protestantism lead to the wars of religion, where the Catholic kings of France attempted to suppress new religious ideas. These conflicts lasted until the end of the 16th century, after which Montpellier re-emerged with the growth of a new upper class. This growing merchant class—the bourgeoisie—also wanted to show off their wealth through magnificent homes. But, unlike the nobility of previous centuries, the bourgeoisie was reluctant to spend much money. 

This resulted in a new round of hôtels particuliers, which are highly decorated on the outside, but with interiors—the part most people never saw—relatively bland. (Different century, different styles!)

And our last stop: an unassuming door, hidden behind a cafe umbrella...

..hides this exquisite spiral staircase.

Looking up at the ceiling inside that staircase.

I like this sconce that lights the coquille Saint-Jacques shell, illuminating the inside of staircase.

We were thrilled with this tour because we got to see some of these special interiors. Now when we walk through the city I mentally pause at each of these magnificent carved doorways and think, what's behind there? What splendor is hidden within?

(Intrigued by our tour, I did a bit of research and found this Wikipedia page listing 114 hôtels particulaires in Montpellier—a list that is noted as being non-exhaustive!)

Hôtels particuliers de Montpellier

And then, as luck—er, serendipity—would have it, I was wandering through the city noting the many hôtels when I saw the residents of one putting a flyer on their door announcing one of their twice-yearly concerts...

A house concert! Some good old rock and roll in the courtyard of the 17th century Hôtel de la Vieille Intendance.

Spring Returns to Montpellier--And a Passport Gets Lost!

 

Classic photo of Montpellier on an overcast spring day: the Arc de Triomph with the spire of St. Anne's.

               Springtime (again!) in Montpellier

It’s our fourth year in Montpellier and thus our fourth spring. While it was hardly unexpected, we came back from our Jordan trip to find spring in full bloom (as it were). We so very much appreciate the longer—and warmer!—days that spring brings. Not to mention, of course, the plants greening up and growing out!

What made this spring special was that we had visitors from the States! We were very pleased to welcome our friends Nancy and Richard. We’ve known them for a long time in California, although now they live in Vermont. Montpelier, to be exact. (And how cool is that, to be visited by friends from “one-L Montpelier”, Vermont, while we live in “two-L Montpellier”, France!)

Richard and Paula in Montpellier (the one with two Ls).

Nancy and Paula enjoy the gardens at  Place de la Canourgue in Montpellier.

We of course spent a long time catching up, but the real fun in visits like this is to show friends around, to show off where we live. We settled on a trip to Saint-Rémy-en-Provence. We’ve been to this town several times and always find it delightful. It’s also quite near the medieval village of Les-Baux and the Carrières des Lumières, an abandoned quarry that now houses an amazing, immersive show of sound and lights, where images of classic artists are projected on the walls and floor.

The theme at the Carrières des Lumières  was From Vermeer to Van Gogh, Dutch Masters.
Here we see  a much more than life-size "Girl with the Pearl Earring"

Maybe this is what it's like to be a flower in a bouquet?

We are immersed in famous images!

They got a "thing" with bicycles in Provence! A classic scene in Saint-Rémy.

We’d been here before (here’s the blog of a previous trip), but were happy to go again. It’s classic French, an archetypal provençal town (a town in the south, in Provence). Saint-Rémy also has a wonderful market, but it turns out that’s on Wednesday, and we were there Saturday. Since we missed the big market, we figured we’d head over to Arles for their Saturday market, which is always amazing.

 

Oh, Saint-Rémy is getting cutesy with their downtown decorations!

Amping up the "cute factor" in St-Remy.

Richard, indulging his passion for street photography.

Richard and I check out a restaurant. How many tables does it really have?

Our arrival in  Arles. Ah, we were so innocent then, before the Lost Passport!

Paula does a bit of street shopping; that's the Roman Arena is in the background.

Richard at the market in Arles.

Arles is another classic provençal town, a bit larger than Saint-Rémy. As it turns out, we were not able to explore it as we wanted to, because tragedy struck. Well, it was hardly a fatal blow, but disturbing none-the-less: Nancy lost her wallet! Which lead us—forced us—to consider… what happens when you lose your passport while traveling?

I try my hand at street photography in Arles.

         The Saga of the Lost Passport

It all started while we were visiting Arles. We’d just left the famous Arles market: block after block of vendors selling all manner of fruits and vegetables and prepared foods, clothing and household items, toys and games. Nancy was pleased to have found some gifts for the kids back home; Richard was happy to find such rich territory for his street photograph. Done with our shopping, we left the market and were making our way deeper into the city when Nancy suddenly exclaimed, “I don’t have my wallet! My passport! My credit cards!”

Uh oh, I though, life has suddenly gotten far more complicated…

Nancy recalled using her card at the market, so we immediately headed for the booth where she’d made her last purchase. Ah, but the market ended at 12:30, and there were now few vendors left, just finishing their packing up. No one had seen anything. 

The wallet was gone.

Next stop: report the loss to the police station, conveniently located right across the street. But, this being lunchtime on Saturday, it was closed.

Still, we rang the bell and were welcomed by a woman who listened to our sad tale and let us in. Her first comment was, Call the bank, cancel the cards! Then, contact the American Embassy and report the lost passport.

We sat in the relative quiet of the police station and Nancy called her bank. It turns out cancelling cards when you’re travelling abroad is harder than we’d thought! She was to spend considerable time talking to various bank and credit card officials explaining what had happened.

Next: police report. We figured that would be important for the embassy, and the banks, and… oh, the airline!

Dealing with the embassy wouldn’t be too much of a problem. After all, people lose passports all the time, so there must be a procedure in place. It was the plane ticket that was the big concern.

See, Nancy and Richard had a flight home to the US on Monday night. Today was Saturday; the embassy would be closed until Tuesday morning (Monday was a holiday, yet another one in a country famous for its number of holidays). They needed a passport for Nancy by Monday night in order for her to leave for home. What to do? And just to add a touch more spice to the mix, the person who did police reports would not be in until 2PM (after lunch!), so we would need to return.

We left to regroup and strategize. After a bit of wandering we found a pleasant café and seated ourselves under a huge spreading micocoulier  (a very common tree in the south of France). After a round of coughing and choking (it was early spring, and micocoulier are famous for their excessive pollen), we discussed the lost wallet while refreshing ourselves with cups of tea. Nancy kept talking to credit card companies; I called the number I’d been given for the police lost and found. Wait. Someone turned in an American passport? Yes, do call me back with the name!

Elation all around our table! We’ve been saved! Then the phone rang. Yes, an American passport, but not in Nancy’s name. Our mood sank even lower…

Two o’clock rolled around, and we headed back to the police station; Nancy and I were led upstairs where we gave the information for the police report and returned with a couple of typewritten pages, evidence that she had, indeed, reported the loss to the police. There wasn’t much more to do, so we returned to Montpellier.

From the privacy and comfort of our apartment Nancy kept making phone calls, and by evening she’d convinced the banks to shut off her accounts. Richard researched the US embassy in Paris and found that the special entrance for those who’d lost passports would be open at 8AM on Tuesday. Now, all that was left were the plane tickets, which needed to be arranged after the passport was secured.

Paula then had a brilliant idea: call the travel insurance office—they might have an agent who would help. Nancy did, and remarkably quickly, a flight was found—and booked by the agent—out of Paris, with the bonus of a $660 credit!

Nancy had been very keen to see the Sea (the Mediterranean), and Sunday was going to be a beach day. But with still much to do—finding a hotel, getting train reservations back up to Paris, and a myriad of other little things—and with the sword of the lost passport hanging over our heads, none of us was particularly relaxed Sunday morning!

Mid-morning Monday we accompanied our friends, all packed and ready to travel, on the 20-minute walk to the Gare Saint-Roch, the Montpellier train station. That afternoon they were in their hotel in Paris, just a short walk from the embassy. By Tuesday morning Nancy had her emergency passport in hand, and they could relax and spend the day sightseeing. They flew home the next day, back to Vermont and their home in the “one-L” Montpelier.

In the end, it all worked out, as we knew it would, but there was still some cleaning up to do: Nancy needed new credit cards (and all that entails with updating auto-pay services), and had to supply the travel insurance company with endless receipt copies (she did eventually get reimbursed for most of the extra travel expenses). The real cost, though, was the loss of time, and the experiences they’d hoped to have, but didn't.

So, lessons learned: First: Always buy travel insurance! Second: Know how easily you can be distracted by sights and sounds in a foreign country, and DON’T leave your valuables unattended—something that “at home” wouldn’t be so potentially consequential!

Post Script: Weeks later, Nancy got word from the Arles police that her wallet had been returned, with all it's contents, and they would be sending it to her in Vermont!

 

Seen on our way out of Arles. There's that bicycle thing again...

Well, spring has passed, and we’re now deep into the hot, humid unpleasant Montpellier summer. We’re dealing with that by leaving! We’re currently on vacation in the mountains of Northern Spain. We'll be talking all about that soon...

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.