In Montélimar

April 23, 2022

No hike, no bike ride, no nuthin’. Rained out, and feeling just fine about it. We were due.

Steve and Ann Maher-Weary recommended a book to us all a few days back: The Art of Travel, by Alain de Botton. I was taken by the description of ‘the tyranny of the guidebook’, and thinking about it in our stay here in Montélimar. Unless you’re a fan of nougat you’re not so likely to come here, a town that feels well off the tourism circuit. I quite like it though and found it a very pleasant place to wait out the weather. A large town with a population of around 40,000, it sits in an attractive setting, set back a bit from the Rhone along its tributary the Roubion. It was very easy to enter by bike, leaving the Via Roma to bike up the path along the Roubion to within about three or four blocks of the city center.

The town has a long and distinguished history that have left it with a very mixed character: a ruined chateau on the hill, a few gates and remnants of the historic walls, scattered porticos and arches that hint at what the town must have been like centuries ago. Some run-down neighborhoods. And then, there’s the commercial heart of town: clean, vibrant, modern. My first thought on seeing the town was to wonder if it had been destroyed during the war and then rebuilt; but from what I can gather it’s just been the subject of an ongoing renovation effort.

Whatever path has brought it here, right now it feels like quite a livable, attractive place. A few nice parks and walks across the river, enough remaining historic influences to make it interesting, an excellent modern hotel (the Sphinx), and a good selection of restaurants just yards away.

And bats! I really started to like the place when we were looking out our hotel window after dinner on our first night here and saw two or three small bats flittering around above the parking lot. You have to love a town that has room for bats.

We spent our layover day just lying around in our room for the most part, wondering when the rains were going to arrive. They were late, and we probably could have gone out for a decent walk in the morning if we’d been more motivated. Finally we stirred enough to walk a couple blocks to the Halles for a light lunch, and afterwards I took a short walk through town while Rachael returned to the room to escape the cold wind.

By the time I made it back to the room myself it was finally starting to sprinkle; and an hour and a half later it was pouring out, making us feel smart for having holed up here for the day. Then, a respite - just long enough for us to walk three blocks to the restaurant we’d made a reservation at for dinner.

And then over dinner the roof really did fall in. A sudden squall roared through bringing an intense downpour, crashes of thunder, flashes of lightning, and intense winds that loudly ruffled the canvas walls of our outdoor eating enclosure. Suddenly, Rachael’s getting wet and fearful of being electrocuted as the rains break through the roof of the enclosure and start streaming down through one of the overhead light fixtures. Time to evacuate.

Montélimar bills itself as the nougat capital of the world. Mother loved nougat, and it makes both of us wistful knowing that we can’t really share the experience with her.

If you step back a few blocks from the renovated front door of town it feels like you’re stepping back into the past.

Along the Roubion, looking away from the Rhone which is perhaps a quarter mile behind me here.

The walkway up to the castle. The figure ahead, when he thought no one was watching, was vigorously shadow boxing.

The view across the Rhone from the castle.

The historic market square, now largely reconstructed. A few arches of the arcade have been left behind as a reminder of the past.

In the public gardens. They must get some rain here.

The look from our room, not long before dinner.

Fish and fowl, in the regional style of the Drome. Best French fries ever!

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Keith KleinHi,
Montelimar is the “official” northernmost point in Provence, at least according to a few Marseillais that I know. From here on there should be less twang to the words and the mistral will fade away. By Valence, you will be “north”. Are you riding up the Via Rhona? It’s really nice, but not at all challenging .
Let me know about your plans as you get nearer to Burgundy. We’ll arrange a meeting as you get closer.

Cheers,
Keith
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Keith KleinIt definitely feels like we’ve crossed a divide. No more olive groves!

We’re riding the Via Rhona for a couple of days and enjoying it immensely - it’s much more scenic than I’d anticipated. We’re in Valence this evening but tomorrow will head for higher ground, starting with the Vercors. We’ve been resting up in anticipation.

It would be wonderful if we can hook up when we’re in your neighborhood. We’re booked in Beaune on the 18th-19th and Dijon on the 20th-21st, so you could be thinking about what might work best for you.
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1 year ago