Day one in Montpellier, France

Roberto's first impressions

On our first day in Montpellier, I realize just how much I miss walking. Our current hometown of Austin is not a great walking city. The streets of Montpellier that border the historic part of town buzz with activity, and I admire the efficient farandole (folk dance) performed daily by the cars, trains, cyclists, vendors, and pedestrians. 

We spend our first full day exploring the old town center, shopping for a messenger bag that I want (a French brand that is much more expensive in the US), searching cafes looking for matcha lattes that are up to Carolyn’s standards, and shopping for small gifts to bring home to friends. The shopkeepers and people on the street are cheery and helpful and forgiving of our underdeveloped (Carolyn) or non-existent (me) language skills. We stop at every bureau immobilier to look at real estate offerings posted in their windows; it reminds me of apartment hunting in Brooklyn in the early aughts.

One of the books we read cautioned that the French will think you are simpleminded if you walk down the street smiling at everyone—a very American habit. I try to keep a neutral face and I have to stop myself from cooing like an idiot and kneeling down to greet every dog we pass (Carolyn is adding a comment here to say that I stopped myself from doing this not one time.)

Montpellier’s jumbled streets feel endless in these first few days. I can walk in circles and not realize it. There’s a restrained chaos to the medieval streets and buildings, but I trust the order will reveal itself with experience. I take advantage of being a morning person and use the time to take solo walks in the medieval part of the city and, to a lesser extent, in the Boutonett and Beaux Arts neighborhoods surrounding our hotel. I see lots of parents dropping kids at schools, a boulangerie setting up, and fun energy in the early morning setup at the Halles Castellane market. Street art is everywhere and Montpellier is known for it—the art contrasts with the old buildings in an unexpected way and it’s delightfully fun. Finding street art is like a scavenger hunt where the reward is renewed faith in humanity. By the end of our visit I am beginning to develop an instinct for where I am and which way to go (but I still looked at Google Maps constantly.)

I love the paving of the streets and courtyards, built with stone of every scale from enormous blocks to smooth, palm-sized skipping stones. One of the photographs I have attached is the paving in the courtyard of a government building that exists to promote and support the arts, located in the Centre Historique. While I’m photographing the paving in the courtyard one of the employees encourages me to go into the building where I find promotional materials for all the cultural events in the city; I load up my messenger bag with pamphlets that I cannot read.

One evening we met our real estate agent at a local bar to strategize before meeting the seller of an apartment we liked. We are the only people in the bar except for a few musicians setting up for their gig. All the furniture is sturdy and rough around the edges like the dive bars and bargain cafes I went to in college (I’m looking at you, Les Amis in the Austin of 1988).  When we leave for our meeting, one of the musicians makes us promise to come back later and hear the jump/swing band that will be playing. We do return a few hours later and the bar is packed. The musician who asked us to come back makes eye contact, she knows we kept our promise. The bar is comfortably full, it’s pouring outside and there’s an esprit de corps that only exists in crowded bars on rainy nights—everyone is easy going about wet umbrellas and jackets, we’re all happy to be here.  Some people are watching the band, some are playing cards and board games. When I use my phone to take a picture of the band I notice that nobody else is taking pictures. I’m a philistine. I put the phone away.

All of this is wonderful and so exciting! Several old friends who live in Europe come to visit us and it is easy to entertain them here. Restaurants are very dog friendly, even the Michelin star places. Montpellier has everything on my list: I find stores with interesting clothes, a few film and photography supply places, great coffee, friendly people, arts, community, a neighborhood vibe including distinct neighborhoods within the Historic center.  I’m not religious at all but I like that the local saint, Saint Roch, is also the patron saint of dogs.

For sure, there will be be frustrations, things that are charming now might become annoying when I live here (will I really adjust to cycling on cobblestones every day?) I grew up in a military family, we moved a lot. I continued moving in my adult life - Texas, Oregon, New York, Indonesia, Vermont, Texas (again). I’m comfortable with new places. I like figuring them out.  I always say it takes 3 years for a place to start to feel like home. Montpellier is complex, but it feels snack-ably small, maybe we will break it in sooner.

Next week Carolyn will tell you about her first impression, plus how she found our real estate agent!

Jusqu’à la prochaine fois (until next time)

Carolyn & Roberto