Montauban

Perfectly timing our arrival into Montauban with the peak rush hour traffic (yes, even medieval fortified towns or bastides in the south of France do have peak rush hour traffic), we had begun to wind our way down from the Atlantic coast of France and start the trek to Spain, manoeuvring through the Pyrenees.

Another day, another curb.

The drive from Bordeaux into Mountauban was a classic trip through all that is French - we passed traditional little French country homes, complete with sun-worn shutters in hues of blue, green and yellow, uneven stone walls and ancient wooden roofs. Town streets were replete with older men sitting in pavement cafes smoking cigarettes over the twentieth café of the day and their beloved newspapers, with local women walking the streets with fresh groceries for the day in hand. Each town has its own unique World War 1 and World War 2 memorials (as well as streets named after Wilson, Patton and of course, Charles de Gaulle), as well as the beautiful church spire marking the central point of the settlement.
Montauban is the second-oldest bastide in this part of France and the heart of the town is the quintessential square named Place Nationale. Surrounded by arcaded walkways in the classic pink brick of the region, we had drinks into the late sunset at one of the bars in its historic centre. We managed to find accommodation in the top luxury spa of the city (complete stroke of luck I tell you) and this amazing building, with all sides opening into a grand courtyard, was the ancient Abbey of the local order of Nuns. Being an important sight in the struggle between Catholicism and the rise of Protestantism in centuries past, a religious undertone seemed to pervade all aspects of Montauban.

Along with the haunting spiritual theme, Montauban did also seem to have more than its usual share of local ‘bums’. Every French town, no matter how small, has at least one member who roams the streets drunkenly greeting people and singing at the top of their voice or taking a nap on the pavement. (We have witnessed countless of these gentlemen disrupt the performances of stunned teenage bands busking on the sidewalk). Although most are obviously living a life of struggle, and many besides being alcoholics are suffering from serious mental health problems and fall between the social welfare cracks, they do generally have a warm and non-threatening demeanour and add, in their own distinctive way, contribute to the tapestry of town life – known by name and engaged with by all the locals.
Onwards and upwards, towards Toulouse!