So, it turns out from what I’ve learned this weekend that Montpellier is a much maligned place (mostly by me) and unfairly, because it’s actually rather a great place to live – and thriving: it’s currently the 7th biggest city in France, up from 20th a few decades ago. A quarter of the population are students, and over a third are under 30 – no wonder no one is having any strokes. It’s got loads of universities, but also hospitals because it was on the old pilgrim route.
I did the obligatory petit train touristique yesterday (why does Wellington not have one of these? traffic too scary? too hilly? not interesting enough? answers on the back of a postcard please), and then a walking tour around the old town. In spite of being a relatively young city (ie Middle Ages rather than Roman ahem) it’s got everything you need from a old town – narrow windy streets and lots of character, but also lots of fountains and squares and al fresco dining.
October is breast cancer awareness month
English pub noted in case I get lonely
View both ways from the local Arc de Triomphe knock off
This is St Roch, a local boy made good. His leg is (rather coyly) exposed because he’s showing off his buboe scars – he had the plague but he got better, thanks to some holy water and a little doggie who used to bring him bread every day (maybe it had mold on it?)
The climate is very mild and there are plenty of people out and about enjoying the sunshine. The infrastructure is great, the centre of town is mostly pedestrianized, and they have light rail and plenty of bike trails, in town and out in the countryside.
Today I joined a bike tour out to the sea and back. Montpellier isn’t a harbour city but the sea is very nearby. And there are flamingos out there! How can you not like a place with flamingos?
There are two sports particular to the area, according to today’s guide: boules, which I saw lots of people of all ages playing today (mostly men, though, it’s true); and some sort of local version of bullfighting, in which the bull wears pompoms on its horns, and a hat, there are no swords and the bull doesn’t necessarily die. (Ed note: lost in translation? more research required). Anyway the guide got very animated telling us about it, running around with his index fingers as horns and jumping over fences and stuff. Could be more like the running of the bulls in Pamplona?
They’ve put a lot of effort into modernizing the city, with coordinated development out to the southeast with parks and apartment buildings that are very modern and environmentally friendly.
After my two tours yesterday, and drinking some rose and eating pate in the afternoon sun, I discovered that there is a film festival on, and so on the spur of the moment, went to the premier of a movie, which was fabulous. The director and two stars answered audience questions afterwards.
I thought, “you’re not in Wellington now, Kirsty!” (Pretty obvious as everyone was speaking French, but you know what I mean). One earnest young woman asked a question that upset everyone very much. Wish I knew what it was about.
The main thing Montpellier lacks in my opinion is proper hills, ironic considering the name (probably) means bald/peeled/unforested hill. False advertising. But I’m quibbling.