Il pleut! IL PLEUT!!

Typical buildings in Toulouse

From Bordeaux, we chased the soleil (sunshine) south and a bit inland (but still on the Garonne) to Toulouse, the fourth-largest city in France by population.  It's a part of the Midi-Pyrénées region, not far at all from the beautiful snowcapped Pyrénée mountains where lots of people from my region go to ski during vacations.  Toulouse has one of the biggest student populations in France; its university was established in 1229 and has since split into three.

One of my favorite parts of this particular vacation was watching the changing landscape and architectural style from the train.  The polished off-white stone of the Bordeaux area slowly melted into "rosy" red bricks of Toulouse; Toulouse is thus nicknamed la ville rose, or the pink city.  As we learned on our walking tour, the first inhabitants of the area didn't have access to the types of stone typical of buildings in many other French cities, so they made red bricks from the clay in the Garonne.  The buildings also have a stronger, more robust look to them.

At the Capitole

Un café at the Capitole

Being so close to the Spanish border, we saw a hike in tapas bars and Spanish restaurants.  In addition, many street signs are in both French and in Occitaine, the ancient language of the entire south of France.  I noticed many language differences; they call their city hall the Capitole instead of the Hôtel de Ville; when you buy something at the store, they will ask you if you want une poche (a bag), not un sac.  And don't you dare go to the boulangerie and order un pain au chocolat (chocolate croissant): it's now une chocolatine.

The region is also known for its violets, so get ready for tourist shops brimming with violet jam, perfume, syrup, liqueur, air fresheners, and purple things in general.

Toulouse is a part of the Camino de Santiago, or the Way of St. James, which is made up of several pilgrimage routes to the shrine of the apostle St. James in northern Spain.  Ali and I visited several stunning religious monuments that are important for visitors on this journey.  We went inside the Couvent des Jacobins, the Basilique Saint-Sernin (which has what is known as the most beautiful pipe organ in France) and, my favorite, the Cathédrale Saint-Etienne.  The cathedral is actually a mesh of two different churches of which construction began at different times; in order to preserve the original baptismal chapel, the finished building is completely asymmetrical.  When you walk inside through the main door, you find yourself staring down a small corridor that leads behind the altar; the altar itself is offset to the left.  To add to the mishmash, the carvings of the wooden choir stalls depict pagan and mythological figures.

Cathédrale Saint-Etienne, outside and inside

For my arts fix, I went to a small museum called the Fondation Bemberg that I strongly recommend.  It's a private collection housed in an old mansion, and has a little bit of everything (mostly paintings); I was lucky to get to see one of Monet's water lily paintings that was there from Paris temporarily in exchange for another artist's piece.

For Ali's last evening in France, we took one of our airbnb host's restaurant recommendations: Meet the Meat.  It was a gem of a restaurant, obviously specializing in meat, but our entrées were wonderfully green salads to balance out the meat dish and house potatoes au gratin (I don't know how they made it - everything, from the potatoes to the duck to the salad - the way they did, but it now ranks in the top five meals of my life).  The servers and owners were also a fun group and the atmosphere was le top.

(Speaking of airbnb, I have many stories just concerning our housing and hosts during the trip; they were interesting and quirky enough to maybe merit their own post.)

The next day, Ali hopped on a train back to Paris to head stateside, and I hopped on the Midi-Pyrénée regional line toward the Pyrénées themselves, specifically a small town at the foot of the mountains called Foix.

I'm finding that I feel very comfortable being close to mountains, even small ranges, and I definitely miss them living in Minnesota and in the Vendée.  In Cannes, I at least had hills leading up from the Mediterranean; Strasbourg is nestled between the Vosges on the French side and the Black Forest on the German side.  As the train inched closer and closer to the Pyrénées, the sun was just rising, and I started to make out the looming peaks with just a dusting of snow.

Originally, I had wanted to spend a day hiking on trails; after some research, I learned that this area of the Pyrénées is rather wild and untamed.  It's best to have a car to take you up into the hills (and even then, you should by no means rely on your GPS)...and there are bears, according to the tourism website.  So I put my hiking adventure on hold until a day when I plan to have a guide, and I chose to visit Foix, known for its château.  

I'd imagine that Foix is a lively place during the tourist season, but when I arrived Monday morning, it was pretty dead.  I covered the city trying to get a decent mountain view, but ended up returning to a little market in the city square before starting to climb the short but steep path up to the castle.  The château has three towers (you can climb each one if you have enough energy).  It has changed many times over history, but the towers you can see today are pretty close to what they were in the year 1000.  Most notably, le roi Henri IV of France lived there before being crowned king; his bed is still in one of the towers.  All in all, Foix was an excellent half-day choice in lieu of bear-inhabited mountains.

After my mountain fill, I returned to Toulouse for a sunny afternoon to collect my bag before continuing on my quest for sunshine.