I guess a lazy Tuesday afternoon is as good as any day to catch up on some writing. I have been thinking long and hard about what to write on here because there is so much that comes with travel that rather than give you detailed play by plays of each of my days it is easier to tell you stories.
The first story I have for you involves getting lost, a new roommate and two gifts very gracious host.
As y'all are probably aware I am studying in Montpellier right now, evem though it has nothing to do with my field of study this trip has bestowed me with some enchanting insights into European culture and architecture. So studying a foreign language for no other reason than the fun of it has been paying dividends.
This particular day was a warm and welcoming Thursday on August 28th. We had all met up as a group so that our teacher Sister Carlus, who was born and raised in Montpellier could show us around a little and give us some pointers. I had already been there for a full day by myself and had gotten used to parts of the city. But it only being my second time really walking the city I was content with sticking with my group from school.
Around noon, when we had worked up an appetite we walked around the Polygone mall looking for something to satisfy our hunger. The group had stopped outside a small Patisserie called Paul and were waiting on some of the other group members to see if this was some place that they wanted to eat.
I did not have any money with me so I ventured off by myself to find an ATM that was rummored to be nearby by Meghan. I walked around the halls of the mall for to the sketchy back end of the mall, where I found what I was looking for. I quickly withdrew my money and hurried back to where I had left the group.
Upon my arrival the area was vacant. I looked around that area for them, peeting into the bistros and cafes hoping that I would be able to join them for lunch. My search though was fruitless and I ended up eating a delicious eggplant quiche and an orangina from another small branch of Paul in the mall.
I walked outside of the mall and sat myself down on a short cement wall when along comes a silver bearded homeless man asking me for a cigarette in French. I know a little French but being new in a country makes it difficult to understand it and harder to communicate. Comically I tried my best to say "je ne parle pas de françias" which truned more into something like " Je ne pas parler francias." Eventually giving up and telling him "I'm American." That guy didn't miss a beat and in English asked "Do you have cigarette?" When I responded negatively he looked a little unhappy but then asked me if I had any alcohol to share. When I explained to him that I didn't smoke or drink I could almost see his spirit breaking. We sat in silence for a few minutes while I finished my quiche and then said my goodbyes.
Thoughts rolled around in my head wondering what I should do now. I had not plan besides getting my roommate at four but it was barely one in the afternoon. I headed home scratching my brain wondering where that group had gone off to but left because I had wandered the building now for an hour and odds where that they would have left by that time.
Once home I decided it was a good idea to leave the comforts of my apartment after a while an venture onward. I like walking and a stroll around the city seemed pleasant. I made up my mind that I was going to look for the church building I would be going to on Sunday morning and after Googling the building I made my way down there and back.
I managed to get home just in time for my host, Phillipe to get ready and to go pick up Ronny. Who woyld arrive at the train station shortly. Phillipe wanted me with him because of the unfortunate circumstances that happened upon my arrival, but that is a story that I will have to tell you at some other time. Needless to say Phillipe did not want two of us lost in the city on our first days there. As was taken along for the pickup because I knew what Ronny looked like and he did not.
We got there and my host and I instantly split up; he took the upper deck of the train station while I stayed below on the platform. The train arrived on time to. The station and I kept my eyes peeled in hopes of catching the new arrival before he escaped with the crowd upstairs. Ronny made my job easy for me and rather than following the crowd blindly he decided to stay put and wait for someone to find him.
I imagine that I looked a lot like he did on that first day; tired, overwhelmed and having a certain air around you of being completely lost lucky for him though he was not left stranded for long; once the crowds parted I saw him guarding his luggage. I went over to him exchanging greetings and welcoming him to his new home.
It was a peculiar sensation doing that, it brought me back to the days as a missionary four years ago. Picking up new Elders and acting like you know everything about the area you were now together in. The truth was far from that though and I could only give him a few pointers and lead him to our host.
Phillipe was glad when I found him upstairs with Ronny in tow. He informed us that he needed to make one stop before heading back to the apartment. The place in question was the home of a friend which he would stay at occasionally and stored most of his personal items. Nestled away in a residential part of the city it wasn't much to look at but as the saying goes; you can't judge a book by it's cover.
The outside of the house was misleading the small exterior, almost by some sort of architectural magic, opened to a spacious three story house complete with courtyard, patio and architecture studio. It was awe inspiring to say the least. Montpellier is an old city, dating back centuries and this house fit perfectly in place amonug all the history in this town.
The walls of the building were pieced together using cobblestone. The gray mortor binding together the stones that make up the majority of the was. The kitchen was to the right complete with an old cooking area, designed for cooking over an open flame and letting the smoke scurry out the chimney. The othet room on the first floor was a wonder to behold, it was a mix between a library, a music room and a bed room. Books and instruments were spread across the whole of the room. There were pianos, violins and accordians scattered here and there. This was a family that loved music and would practice it often.
Beyond the foyer from the entrance there was a twisting stone stair case ascending up to the second story. It lead you to the sleeping areas of the house there were a total of two rooms and a bathroom on this story of the house. the biggest of the room had one of the most rustic grand fireplaces I have every seen. It knew it was a handsome specimen, because it was not content with being a wall flower; rather it sat spread out on the floor sharing it's beauty and warmth with all who were in that grand hall.
Normally I expect houses to end after the second story, but this house as beautiful as it was had more hidden in it. Our host showed us to a hand crafted spiral staircase. Built by the owner sometime ago this work of art was crafted masterfully by laying layer by layer thin wood onto each other to get the desired effect; each step would stick out of the center and be composed of several thin sheets each one shorter than the last. This allowed for a small inversed stair to be tucked away beneath each step.
These stairs lead us up to the third floor which was the loft. There was not nearly as many things in this part of the house, however there were some mattresses fitted with blankets and some old looking books arranged on the small night stand. Even with the lack of furnishings this part of the house had it's own charm thanks to the reliable but old beams that supported the floor as well as the roof above. They were a reddish brown sort of color and were big enough that you had to exert some effort to get around them.
The next surprise that this floor had for us was just outside. We had to cross small bridge and go through a small hobbit door to get there but tge view was worth straining our backs to crawl through. We ended up on the roof and despite the small passage here this was not a typical roof top. Where tiles should have been there was floor and we were greeted from above by hanging grape vines still bearing their fruits. It was a beautiful sight to see being able to look out on the town and seeing this gem tucked away among all the other timeless works of art.
The building itself was a work of art, as was fitting considering that the owner was an old architect. His studio was right next to that roof top patio and still had his instruments inside. It was almost like looking into a museum display; the glass let us gaze at the old desks and drawing instruments which Ronny and I both soaked.
This house had made thw unexpected change of plans that I went through worth it. I wish that was my house there was such beauty contained within it's small unassuming exterior and just being able to explore it was a gift in itself.
Though our host was not quite done giving us presents. There was still more for us to do that evening, but to not make this a novel instead of the blog post that it is supposed to be I am going to split this into two parts which will appear later.
