Montpellier is in some respects an outlier among cities in the south of France. Unlike Toulouse, Nimes, Avignon and others, it has no Roman or Greek roots. It is a newer city (by the standards of Europe), having been established about 1000 A.D. when the local lords, the Guilhems, combined a couple of villages, built a castle and surrounded the whole thing with a wall.
It was good to be a feudal lord. You could treat the landscape and its people as one big Monopoly game.
Two towers of that wall still survive, but they were built later, about 1200.
Tour de la Babote was converted to an astronomical observatory for the Royal Academy of Science 1739-1793.
Maybe some astronomers got to live in that cool apartment right between the two towers.
I would totally live there.
It had a later incarnation as a telegraph tower between 1832-1855.
In medieval times, Montpellier flourished as a trading link among other cities on the Mediterranean. Perhaps it was this cosmopolitan influence that resulted in another way in which Montpellier differed from a lot of northern European cities; its tradition of religious tolerance. It wasn’t just the Cathars and Huguenot Protestants who were able to live their lives free of harassment in Montpellier. There were large Muslim and Jewish communities as well.
A mikve (a Jewish ritual bath) from the 12th century can still be seen here, one of the few medieval mikves left in Europe.
Then too, the city has long been a centre of learning. Today, about one-third of the city’s population is comprised of students at one of the three universities and other institutes of higher learning.
The study of medicine in this city reaches back to 1181, when Lord Guilhem VIII decreed that anyone, regardless of religion or social class could teach medicine in Montpellier. One of the oldest medical schools in the western world was established here in 1220, and still operates in a wonderful historic building right behind/beside the cathedral.
The faculty of law was established at the same time. Their digs aren’t so grand.
The Cathedral Saint-Pierre began as a monastery and church in 1364, established by order of Pope Urban V who was formerly a student in Montpellier himself, as well as being one of the few medieval popes who live in a simple, modest fashion, after the order of Benedictine monks..
Built in the southern Gothic style – southern Europe, not Tara southern – the twin rocket-like towers give the effect of a fortress. In 1536, it got a bishop and the monastery became his cathedral.
I was amused by what looks like an historic fireplug amid all this grandeur.
Montpellier was Spanish for a while, the city having formed part of the dowry of Marie of Montpellier when she married King Pedro II of Aragon. Another awesome wedding present. It was sold back to France in 1349. Yup. Good to be a feudal lord. Not so good to be a feudal princess. Marie had an eventful, but unhappy life.
Religious tolerance ended when Montpellier became a stronghold of Protestant resistance. Louis XIII, whose wife we met in Pezenas, besieged the city in 1622. It surrendered after two months’ resistance.
The next king was Louis XIV. In an ostentatious display clearly meant to curry royal favour, the Superintendent of the Province, Nicholas de Basville, had the Arc de Triomphe (technically the Porte du Peyrou) erected between 1691 and 1695.
It is a copy of the one of the gates of Paris and stands where one of the former gates of the ancient rampart was. Basville made it part of a whole royal area, by creating La Place Royale du Peyrou just beyond the Arc.
The allegorical medallions on the Arc de Triomphe refer to certain significant events in the reign of the Sun King, as for example, Louis in the guise of Hercules wrestling England to the ground – England being in the form of a lion.
Louis XIV, aka Louis Le Grand aka the Sun King, was not a guy known for his modesty. I’m sure all this blatant flattery went over a fair treat.
The 19th century neoclassical Palais de Justice stands just beside the Arc, on the site of the former Chateau des Guilhem.
The Place du Peyrou has iron gates with a pair of lions guarding them. Observe that there is a child riding the lion.
Realism was clearly not a thing in the 1600s.
Looking back, we see the steeple of the deconsecrated church of Saint Anne used now for exhibitions and commercial events.
The Place du Peyrou is at the top of a bluff, giving a view over the north of the city. I was unable to find out the name of what looks like a church with an Italianate campanile or bell tower.
The weather was clear enough that I could also see the Pyrenees.
An equestrian statue of Louis XIV dominates the Place du Peyrou.
Louis’ horse looks rather startled.
What appear to be a Greek temple at the end of the Place du Peyrou is actually a water reservoir, glorying in the name of the Chateau d’Eau.
Even the water towers here are grand.
It was built in 1754, at the same time as the aqueduct Saint Clement, which drew water to the Chateau d’Eau from the springs in the town of Saint Clement.
One could be forgiven for mistaking the aqueduct for a Roman construction as it drew its inspiration from the Roman Pont du Gard, the famous Pont d’Avignon where ‘on y danse’.
No one was dancing on the aqueduct when I was there, but I was amused to see a flock of tourists on Segways come trundling up the esplanade.
The reminded me of anxious ducklings chasing after their mother.
The Opera Comedie was built in 1888.
It stands proudly at one end of the Place de la Comedie, which is one of the largest pedestrian areas in Europe. The Fountain of the Three Graces was created in 1773 by Etienne d’Antoine.
The attractively housed Tourist Office can be found at the other end.
I always make a point of finding the tourist office whenever I arrive in a new city. They have useful maps (usually free, although the Dutch made me pay), and they sell postcards.
Beautiful plane trees line Esplanade Charles de Gaulle, which runs diagonally off one end of the Place de la Comedie.
Many magnificent Belle Epoque buildings border the Place.
A person could get a crick in the neck from staring up to take in all the details on those buildings.
Look at this beauty with its dome, plasterwork and balconies.
I was particularly enamoured of the little stone balconies.
Art Nouveau features on the Grand Hotel de Midi sign.
Even the Credit Lyonnais boasts a beautiful facade.
Next to it, a house has cameos decorating its walls.
You sure don’t see them building like that anymore. Instead we get this modern attempt at a deformed pyramid which houses the Ibis Hotel.
I enjoyed these two caryatids watching the crowds across from the Place de la Comedie, like French ladies cattily critiquing the fashions of their neighbours.
“Ma cherie, cette robe est vraiment une horreure!”
Deeper into the city, the Prefecture was housed in another lovely 19th century building.
It stands opposite the Place de Les Martyrs de la Resistance, which is understated as these things go in France.
I always think it’s sad that when it comes to WW II monuments in France, the glory all goes to the Resistance, with little or no notice paid to the soldiers in uniform who also fought and died for France at the beginning of the war.
There are many cunning shops in Montpellier, including this one which is seemingly attempting to revive the art of the ‘whites’.
At various times in the history of ladies’ fashion, the rage has been for delicate white garments, beautifully embroidered or adorned with pin tucks, lace and ribbons. White truly signifies that one is a ‘lady’ and therefore doesn’t have to be concerned about getting one’s clothes dirty.
One of those exquisite blouses wouldn’t last ten minutes on me before I spilled something on it.
This one was even offering drawers and chemises.
I came across a Pylones. John and I had great fun in that store in Toulouse.
In Toulouse, I bought one of those brushes, and got a pussycat holding a potholder for John for his birthday.
Maybe this time around I can pick up a shark corkscrew.
There was a wonderful indoor market. So much deliciousness.
I bought some fruits and vegetables including strawberries. I was offered a choice between some from Portugal or “du pays”. I opted for the local variety. They looked pale, but they were absolutely delicious.
What says summer more than the first bite into a fresh sweet strawberry?
And the flowers! Even the signs were beautifully done.
I wended my way back to the station.
All I had to do was follow the tram tracks. Why can’t Ottawa get a decent public transit system with clean, quiet, efficient trams?
Some of the trams were painted in vibrant patterns that somehow went well with the palm trees and dog mascarons on a building near the station.
I want sculptures of dogs grinning down from the roof of my next house.
In the meantime, I am definitely planning to come back to Montpellier in April, when I am back for another housesit in Tourbes. There is still a lot to see and do.
Why, I never made it into even one museum. Incroyable!