Le Midi l'après midi

Where does the south begin? It's a mildly interesting question we've mulled over many times as we've headed through France. It's 'look' - orange pantiled roofs, golden stone houses, plane tree shaded squares - you don't find them so much in the Limosin but you do in the Perigord. On this trip it still felt northern in Clermont Ferrand, but as you climbed towards the Central Massif the villages look more southern, but a dour version of it because of the altitude. 

Looking at our map, there's a line west to east  from the Gironde to the Rhone where settlements acquire an 'ac' suffix - Bergerac, Aurilliac,  Flaviac The line is linguistic, not climatic or historical, denoting the area where Occitan once was the demotic language. Or maybe the south does not really exist at all outside of romantically minded northerners imaginations. It's a dream.

So far as the French themselves are concerned they have made their minds up. Le Midi is everything south of 45° parallel. Which as it happens roughly corresponds  with the all the other approximations we have observed over the years. So the question is now closed, if not exactly answered definitely.

We are staying for a couple of days in Millau,  definitely a southern town. Interestingly it has become more stereotypically so since we first visited here three decades ago. This is due to what might be dubbed the 'Peter Mayle' effect. I mentioned before that the hill towns of southern France can be dour looking - many of the buildings faced in dun coloured concrete, a bit ramshackle and unkempt, classic 'shabby chic'. This was certainly the case when we visited the Auvergne, Lot Valley and la Corbieres in the 1980s and 1990s. Millau at that time looked a bit worse for wear and was traffic choked before the viaduct across the Gorge de Millau removed the through traffic in 2004.

Not so now, facades have been colour-washed, pavements repaired, squares pedestrianised, old fountains and other traditional street furniture restored. They look picture perfect. It seems to me that over recent decades the Midi has re-styled itself to look typically 'Provencale', as if the entire region aspires to resemble the romanticised vision of the south found in 'A year in Provence'.

However,  even if 'the vision' is some kind of self conscious, perfected evocation of a past that never quite existed,  you would have to be very curmudgeonly to deny its allure.

We are staying in Camping 2 Rivières. It's a simple, inexpensive site but well positioned, next to the river and with a view towards an intriguingly named local peak - Puncho d'Agast. 

The town centre is easily accessible, a fifteen minutes stroll away.  There are some handsome looking town houses lining the Avenue Gambetta, one or two of them still housing atelier specialising in haute couture glove making.

We wanted a light lunch, sometimes in France it's difficult at lunchtime to find something more substantial than a snack but not a set two course menu. A small place, 'Côté Marché' in Place Maréchal Foch had good reviews praising it's simple food and the friendliness of the staff. 

So we headed there, it was all true, the waitress sorted us out with two croques and salad. 

It was perfect 'le Midi l'après midi - the afternoon light shadowy through the plane trees, an interplay of light and dark across the ancient colonnaded square. 

Millau is beautifully situated in shallow bowl of a valley, just before the Tarn enters a series of gorges. Down narrow streets you get glimpses of the surrounding hills. 

It's a very pleasing place. Maybe it will become our preferred stop-off whenever we use the A75.