Wandering Footsteps: Wandering the World One Step at a Time » A travel journal following a family on their overland trip around the world.

Montpellier: France’s Number-Two Town (But Not Mine)

I’m wandering down a side street off Montpellier’s place de la comédie. The marble buildings flaunt ornate windows and balconies. Carvings of statues and patterns detail the contour of each structure like icing on a cake. Slabs of smooth marble are laid out at my feet, too, as I waltz past boulangeries and cafés, expensive jewellery displays, trendy clothing stores, and artsy shops.

I’m in Montpellier, voted the second favorite French city by French people. And yet, I’m not feeling it. I blame Bruno.

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The gorgeous historic buildings around Montpellier’s place de la comédie.

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Look at the detail!

I love the narrowness and asymmetrical edges of these buildings.

I love the narrowness and asymmetrical edges of these buildings.

My husband and travel partner is not with me. That isn’t a problem in itself– so far this year, I’ve been to Singapore and Istanbul without him. But today, he’s not with me because he’s in the hospital. The knee surgery I’ve mentioned a few times lately – the cause of our crazy-hectic road trip from Turkey to France – has occurred. Bruno is laid-up at the nearby hospital, healing (he’s doing great, by the way!), so my mind and heart aren’t totally present on these Montpellier streets.

Yet, Bruno’s hospitalization may only be half the reason for my lukewarm response to Montpellier. France is Bruno’s home country, and since the day we met over three years ago, he’s had almost nothing good to say about the place. The pace of life, politics, laws, lifestyle… with all the criticism I’ve heard about France from Bruno, it’s surprising I’ve even agreed to enter the country! I can’t help but wonder, as I walk through Montpellier’s old town, if I’m looking at these streets with Bruno-goggles on.

Bruno re-learning how to bend his knee post-surgery.

Bruno re-learning how to bend his knee post-surgery.

Spending time with Bruno post-knee surgery.

Spending time with Bruno post-knee surgery.

Look!  He

Look! He’s standing up!!

I’ve come to Montpellier to be with Bruno in his time of need. He is priority number one. But as his knee heals and he gains independence – and as I become stir-crazy from being in the hospital night and day – I begin to steal little moments here and there to go out and visit Montpellier. I want to try to see it without my goggles on.

I visit a variety of places over the next few days. I go to Antigone, a newer area of town with a pedestrian plaza bordered by shops and cafés. I visit le jardin des plantes, Montpellier’s biggest and most central green space. I wander down almost every street of the old town, transitioning from the French cafés and trendy shops near la place de la comédie to the more hip and local part of town, with ethnic restaurants, hippy shops, a food market, and health-food cafés. I take it all in, but I can’t help but feel as if I’m just ticking each place off some imaginary to-do list.

Cafes scattered around the old walls of Montpellier.

Cafes scattered around the old walls of Montpellier.

The pedestrian plaza in Antigone.

The pedestrian plaza in Antigone.

Funky artwork on old walls of narrow back alleys in Montpellier

Funky artwork on old walls of narrow back alleys in Montpellier’s old town.

I visit the infamous marché aux puces (flea market) in the Mosson part of town. There are loads of knick-knacks – fishing lines, used shoes, rusty tools, old board games, children’s toys, used electronics, heaps of chargers and electronic cords, batteries, vases, kitchenware, tires, handbags, and piles things under the things I saw. I’m not in the mood to search for a hidden treasure; and anyway, the most interesting part of this market is the different types of faces, dress, and languages surrounding me. I hear Portuguese and Arabic. I see Africans and gypsies. I have to listen hard to hear French and know for sure that I’m still in Montpellier.

The tram is just as multicultural as the flea market. I’ve been taking it all week – to the market, to yoga class, to the tourist sites and the supermarket. It’s packed with people from all over the world, from all walks of life. I see people dressed in leather with purple mohawks, nose piercings and bodies full of tattoos. There are piss-drunk people, young and old. And of course, there are crazy people who talk to themselves (or who talk to you, from across the tram car – yep, that happened to me once).

Le marché aux puces in Mosson is full of wares and people.

Le marché aux puces in Mosson is full of wares and people.

A browser

A browser’s paradise out in Mosson.

The colorful Montpellier tram.

The colorful Montpellier tram.

It’s not just on the tram that I see “interesting” people, either. Once, as I walk down a boulevard in Montpellier’s old town, a rough-looking lady walking toward me stops at a natural soap display and begins to load her bag with them. At first I think she’s going to bring them into the shop to pay for them, but then she begins to walk off. The employee comes running out of the shop, right past me, yelling and reprimanding the thief as she empties her bag of the soaps. Naturally, I expect the cops to be called. Imagine my surprise, then: When the thief declares that she wanted soap, the employee gently replies that she should have simply asked for one. Give me one, replies the thief. The employee hands her a soap bar, and off the thief wanders. I toy with asking for a bar myself.

The funky people of Montpellier.

The funky people of Montpellier.

We

We’re all waiting to get onto the tram.

Another day, as I wait for a tram in the tourist part of town, I watch as a young man approaches a couple of tourists with a pad and a pen. He is trying out the deaf petition scam that I learned about in Paris a few years ago. (The scam works like this: A person pretends to be deaf and enlists the sympathy of passersby by getting them to sign a fake petition for deaf-people’s rights. The person signs, after which the “deaf” person points to the top of the page, which asks for a donation from all those who sign.)

I watch as the fake-deaf guy approaches these two friendly-looking older people, and I watch as the woman willingly signs the document. I want to run up to them to tell them they are being scammed, but for some reason my feet are glued in place. And so, I watch as the fake-deaf guy asks for a donation, as the woman shakes her head a few times, as the fake-deaf guy insists by pointing and tapping his pad harder, and as the woman finally reaches into her purse and pulls out a few euros. I watch as the couple walks off and the fake-deaf guy re-joins another fake-deaf friend. I watch as they begin to move their mouths, laugh, communicate with words, and walk away. They’re off to play with the sympathies of more unknowing, kind tourists.

Walking in the place de la comédie.

Walking in the place de la comédie.

Montpellier sure is colorful!

Montpellier sure is colorful!

I’m starting to wonder if, perhaps, this is the real Montpellier. If this multicultural-market-tram-full-of-crazies-dishonest-street-people perspective is the true one. If it is, then Montpellier is worldly and colorful, but with a seedy, hard vibe to it. I have to push my way out of the tram or the incoming flow of people will make me miss my stop. I get cat-called from men in cars while I’m walking on busy streets. I stop looking at people lest their eyes reveal a drunk, crazy, horny, or angry person. Is this Montpellier with Bruno-goggles on, or is this just Montpellier?

On my last tourist day in Montpellier, I decide to visit le parc zoologique, Montpellier’s zoo. I think I feel the need, after all these mixed-up adult-like impressions of the city, to experience Montpellier like a child. The zoo is a large park with dry Mediterranean flora interspersed between the animal enclosures. It’s a nice, long walk from one animal to the next amid the deafening chirp of cicadas. It’s also incredibly hot. Since I arrived in Montpellier, the daytime temperature has hovered around 39°C, and nights inside a non-air-conditioned hospital have been excruciating. Once I had to strip down in the middle of the night and splash water on my naked skin to cool down.

I visit the Amazonian greenhouse. I watch the lemurs with uninhibited awe and joy for over thirty minutes. I enjoy my first totally innocent visit of the week. But between the heat, the distance, and the underwhelming experience of seeing African animals in enclosures after having seen them so often in the wild, the Montpellier zoo doesn’t do much to improve my impression of France’s number-two city. Who was I kidding?   A zoo will never help me improve my impression of a place.

Taking a break from the heat at the Montpellier zoo.

Taking a break from the heat at the Montpellier zoo.

The lemurs at the parc zoologique of Montpellier.

The lemurs at the parc zoologique of Montpellier.

This cayman in the Amazonian greenhouse stared straight at me as I walked past.

This cayman in the Amazonian greenhouse stared straight at me as I walked past.

On my way back to the hospital, I realize that I’ve run out of trips on my 10-trip transportation card. The machine at the bus stop only accepts debit or credit payment. I find it odd. On the bus, I ask the driver about it. It turns out the city has purposely reduced the amount of transport-ticket machines that accept cash as a method of payment. “The gypsies block the change dispensers so you can’t get your change. At the end of the day, they unblock them and collect the cash. Sometimes it adds up to $100!”

So, Montpellier is a bit rough around the edges. It seems like the type of city that has definite charm, at least once you peel back a few layers. What with Bruno in the hospital, the accumulated fatigue of our eight-country transit, and my impending flight to Canada, I don’t have the time or energy to peel those layers back. Montpellier might be the second favorite city of French people, but I’ve never understood the French, anyway!

Have you ever been to Montpellier? If so, what were your impressions of the city? If not, what are some of your favorite French cities?

  • Nikos&Georgia - Brunoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, our friend!!

    We wish you the very best, have a fast recovery and get back on the road the soonest possible. So glad that everything worked out with your surgery and Brittany had some time to visit your home town. It must be a unique experience to see your home town without you! Good and bad at the same time 😉

    We had a nice walk and a few hours in Montpellier centre in May 2012 on our way to Morocco. We only had nice memories but always local’s viewpoint and experience helps to enjoy a place in its best.

    Again, hope you will have a fast recovery and you will be soon back on track. Taxeia anarosi (the wish in Greek)!!

    Lots of love from Yukon 😉

    Nikos&GeorgiaReplyCancel

    • Brittany - Thank you both for the lovely wishes! Bruno is doing very well, now in France doing lots of work on our Totoyaya to get it back out on the road in top condition! Brittany will be back in France in a few days and we’ll head out soon. Looking forward to being back on the road! 🙂

      We both hope you are enjoying Canada very much. We really look forward to seeing any photos or hearing any stories you may have. And we look even MORE forward to getting to see you out there someday soon!

      Adios (for now)

      BBReplyCancel

  • RCS - I expect all cities have their unattractive side; methinks it was not sharing the sights with Bruno that had you down.
    You couldn’t have eaten anything while you were there because you did not mention food…lol.ReplyCancel

    • Brittany - It’s too expensive to eat in France! 🙂 No, I’m kidding, but I’m guessing it wouldn’t have been too interesting for people to read about how I managed to make some pretty good feasts in the hospital without a fridge or a knife! It’s true! Bruno was eyeing my food with jealousy as he ate his hospital food. Sometimes I shared.

      But you’re right. Seeing Montpellier with Bruno would likely have been more fun, if only because he would have shown me all the little nooks and corners he used to hang out and party in back in the day!ReplyCancel

  • eric et valerie - Bonjour les amis voyageurs

    all the best for Bruno !!

    nous on est a Marsanne , a coté de Montélimar
    et le 31 retour a Dubaï !!

    bon voyage au canada , tout le monde retrouve ses racines !ReplyCancel

    • Brittany - Je vais vous manquer car je reviens en France que le 31!! Mais Bruno est la sur le bord de l’eau au Grau d’Agde. Si vous avez un moment et voulez descendre il serait ravi de vous recevoir! Vous me le dites et je vous passerez son numero de telephone.ReplyCancel

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