Viviers
We enjoy a peaceful day in Viviers, a quiet village of gorgeous stone passageways topped by the oldest cathedral in France.
After a busy day whizzing through two cities, we awoke in stark contrast at the port in Viviers, which was otherwise empty. Steps from there was an open field — no cars, no noise, no pedestrians to navigate, and no other tourists. Just grass and sun and songbirds flitting about. In the near distance, the hilltop village of Viviers peaked through mature trees, revealing little of the charm and elegance within its winding stone passageways.
Viviers’ name came from the Latin Vivarium — an enclosed place where animals are kept — and referred to fish ponds established here by the Romans. The Gauls, Burgundians, and Franks followed. It was awarded a bishopric in the 5th century and remains the see of the Bishop of Viviers.
We walked an empty road into the village, which has just 3,700 inhabitants. All but the butcher appeared to have left for the day.
Viviers is a survivor. Its fortifications saved it from destruction in the Hundred Years War; it overcame a Protestant revolt in the Wars of Religion; and its bishop was one of the few who sided with the Jacobins during the French Revolution, earning the town favor in the destructive aftermath.
Such turbulence was distant history as we climbed the meandering Grand Rue in total silence. Vines, saplings, and brightly painted window sills brought splashes of color to scenes of pure stone.
At the top of Grand Rue sits St Vincent Cathedral, the oldest cathedral in France still in use. Construction of its tall tower, visible from the Rhône, dates to the 11th century. It suffered damage over the intervening millennia — particularly during the brief Protestant revolution — and now represents a combination of Romanesque, Gothic, and 18th-century architectural styles.
We circled the cathedral and began our descent, stopping at an outcropping called Châteauvieux for a panorama of the village and the river beyond. On a hill to the west, we could see La Joannade, a large statue of the Virgin Mary erected in 1861.
It was now late morning, but the old town remained eerily quiet as we continued down its cobbled roads.
Our tour paused at Maison des Chevaliers (Knight’s House), a mansion built in the 14th century and renovated with Renaissance flourishes in the 16th century. It was the residence of Noël Albert, a wealthy salt merchant and native son who had a habit of stealing the taxes he collected on behalf of the crown. He also led the local Protestant Huguenots who seized control of Viviers before he was arrested by the king’s men and executed in 1568.
The house's exterior stands out against the rest of the city, with decorative busts of men and women, friezes featuring scenes of equestrian combat, corinthian columns, and a ram’s head encircled in a garland of foliage.
Signs of life appeared in a market here and a café there as we reached Allée du Rhône, a broader tree-lined avenue leading to our boat in port.
By late afternoon, we were back underway, sailing north for Vienne. Our day of serenity extended from charming Viviers to the tranquil flow of the Rhône.
From our shipboard room, we watched bucolic scenes of southern France slide by: villages capped with ancient châteaus; groves of willows, poplars, and alders arching over the riverbanks; and elegant swans on a promenade with their bevies of gray juvenile cygnets. The rest of the world melted away, and the placid promise of an exotic river cruise was fulfilled.