avril 11: Toulouse

I took an overnight train from Paris that left around 11pm and arrived at about 7am. The journey was pretty comfortable, though I did wake up a lot owing to being a bit hot, the train stopping, and my two snoring compartment-mates.

Toulouse is known as « La Ville Rose » for its overwhelmingly brick construction, but when I arrived it was more grey than anything else. I had a wet walk in the rain to my hotel to drop off my backpack, but alas the door was locked and there was no bell, even though I was told it would be fine to arrive around 7am to leave the bag. Sign number 1. It was then that I discovered that my cell phone was out of minutes, so I searched out a pay phone, called, got an apologetic person at the desk and returned to find again a locked door. Sign number 2. Fortunately, a guy was leaving just then, so I met the nice young woman at the desk, put my bag in a locked room and chatted with the girl a bit. During our chat, a hotel patron came downstairs with his little dog who promptly peed on the floor, thankfully out of range of my feet, but only barely. Sign number 3.

Suffice to say, Hotel Anatole France was not the wisest choice. That delicious musty smell was somehow present in my room even without an en suite bathroom. There was a broken window in the hall covered with a plastic bag. One of my towels looked older than me and not well cared-for. And the windows were most certainly not double-glazed. Lonely Planet will be hearing from me.

But the rest of my time in Toulouse was perfectly nice. After breakfast, I walked around more on its skinny, twisty streets, finally to the Musée des Augustins, a municipal fine arts museum in a former monastery. In addition to the cool architecture, the highlights were in medieval stone sculpture from various churches in and around Toulouse, including these awesome gargoyles that lined one side of the main cloister. I also visited a few churches and walked a bit along the Garonne, the big river that cuts through Toulouse.

More walking put me at the cheapest internet café I’ve found – 1€/hour – where I spent a few hours updating the blog and myself on news. A chat with Tim, a walk along the surprisingly un-scenic Canal du Midi, and a rest at the hotel later, I had a tasty dinner at a small ostensibly wine bar/tapas place. I don’t think duck confit is particularly Spanish, but it was particularly delicious.

The next day I hit up the small market of organic vendors on my way to the train station for portable breakfast. And then it was off on the SNCF again bound for Béziers where I met my next WWOOF host.