Vistas of Viviers

"What a beautiful port," Julie exclaimed as she came back in our room.

I had been staring at my computer screen, completing some work on the free Wifi in our room, where our water level view out the window didn't reveal too much.

From the sun deck, it wasn't the quaint village of medieval homes that I expected to see based on my initial impression of her words, but rather a marina for a few yachts set among trees along side the glimmering blue Rhone River.

It was indeed picturesque in ever direction.

We enjoyed the view over breakfast in the Aquavit Terrace.

After two full days of summer weather, the famous Mistral wind blew cool out from the Alps, cooling the temperatures on this morning.

By afternoon, the breeze that sometimes became gusty wind that could take our hats off made it feel cooler than it probably was during our afternoon cruise on the Rhone that followed the morning stroll around Viviers, but we no longer had 82 degree temperatures.

The sun was still shining brightly.

According to the port presentation the prior evening, Viking had not initially intended Viviers to be so much a destination as a jumping off point.  I presume the passengers originally must have boarded a bus to go elsewhere, perhaps on the "Charming Ardeche" excursion, which is now offered as an optional tour for a supplemental charge.

Our guide in Viviers, Gigi, was vivacious and more engaging than our guides in Arles or Avignon.  Her patter kept us entertained despite having considerably less to work with.

This is a sleepy village with homes dating from the middle ages but few true highlights.

Now the home for about 4,000 residents, in the medieval times it had as many as 30,000.  As such, I presume many homes are vacant and thus not given enough loving care.

It is a long walk through narrow streets up to a beautiful view from a plateau next to the smallest Cathedral in France, St. Vincent's Cathedral.  Gigi spoke most of the way in both directions, giving us quiet time to take in the panoramic vista at the top, which from the ship seemed quite insurmountable for what admittedly was not the most youthful group of walkers.  

(There are more descriptions of the village below these photos from the top of the mesa.)

There were some special interest buildings on our way, including La Maison des Chevaliers, which Viking mentions prominently in Viking Daily, the flyer we received daily to tell us about the day's events.  It's not actually The House of Knights tied to Templars or Hospitallers, as the literal translation might imply, but a Roman era house that got a facelift in the Renaissance year of 1546, courtesy of its owner, salt merchant Noel Albert.  According to Viking Daily, Albert got the funds to pay artisanal mason Luc Pic by skimming taxes due to the King.  Just as our government turns a blind eye to crooks who are among their friends, families and colleagues of the same political persuasion, Noel might have gotten away with his graft had he not aligned himself on the Protestant side of France's religious civil war.

Forced to flee the bustling city that had been the Bishop's Seat, Albert returned as a Captain of the Huguenots and sacked his home town.  Caught, tried and convicted, Albert was imprisoned and then beheaded in 1568.

One highlight was a house where Cardinal Richelieu had once spent the night.  I know the name as a character from one of our favorite movies, The Three Musketeers, but apparently author Alexandre Demas based that character on this very real "Red Eminence."  As Gigi was telling us about that in front of the house, the woman who lives there came out and started lecturing Gigi that this was not a tourist attraction.  Nonetheless, Gigi finished her presentation before moving on.

That particular house itself is so otherwise unremarkable in appearance that neither Julie nor I saved a photo, but there are photogenic spots that pop up sporadically.

The village could use a lot of refurbishment, which actually was grist for some interesting stories by Gigi about the strict rules of the man who hands out building permits necessary for remodeling.

That planning bureaucrat is committed to keeping architectural elements "authentic," which sounds good on paper but not necessarily practical in the real world.

For example, he forced one homeowner to tear out a brand new kitchen remodel because it was red, which was not in keeping with medieval kitchen decorating colors. Never mind that it was inside the house in private space, well out of view of anyone except the family and those invited in.  At least modern appliances are allowed.

The biggest mansion in town has been vacant for decades, which Gigi said was a shame because inside is purportedly a priceless fresco that is probably deteriorating unseen.

Perhaps the building restrictions have resulted in the homeowner deciding to wait for a more grease-worthy palm, like the prior inspector who was quite pliable after a couple of glasses of wine, according to Gigi.

Despite building restrictions, narrow streets that would be impossible to drive, and lack of parking, the population has recently been on a rebound in what is France's smallest city in both population and area, despite having been in existence since the Roman Empire ruled.

Gigi shared that her internet/cable/phone bill is only 49 Euros a month, which sounds like honey to harried big-city dwellers paying high rents in Avignon or Lyon who now post-pandemic find themselves with more flexibility to work remotely.

The economic powerhouse in the area is undoubtedly LaFarge Concrete, whose cement quarry is visible from the river and the plateau.  The quarry actually looks attractive from a distance.

After walking back to the ship, we enjoyed another fantastic lunch and set sail.  The Mistral had kicked up pretty good by then, but Julie and I stayed out in the sunshine on top after they took down the canopies in order to fit under low bridges that would have clipped my head if I stood up.

We had high hopes for the river cruise, remembering similar glides past castles on the Rhine, but here the most interesting sight was the nuclear power plant that uses the river for cooling.  France depends on nuclear power primarily, so they don't have as much angst about Russian oil and gas supplies and have not gone down the renewable path as far as Germany.  Time will tell which was the better choice.

Many cruisers have marveled transiting the locks of the Panama Canal.  On this river cruise, I believe we had 14 locks, where we cruised in under our own power with only a few inches clearance on each side.  Then water flooded in or out of the four walls that enclosed our ship temporarily.  If you like the Panama Canal, you would love this.

In La Voulte-sur-Rhone, Viking Delling stopped long enough to pick up the folks from the all day optional tour.

Those who took that trip said it was lovely, and that could be a very strong choice, although if the Mistral had not been blowing, the sun deck would have been a great place for an extended nap in the sunshine.

Limbo lower now.  How low can we go?