The Flying Adventures of DOUG

That's the metro I have to catch to get into le Centre-Ville of Toulouse from the hostel where I'm staying: à direction de Basso Cambo. The metro reminds me of Singapore because it is so efficient, so quiet and so clean. It does not remind me of London, for the same reasons.

Our hostel is really nice. It's only 13 euros per night (pp), plus 2 euros for le petit-déjeuner. Dad and I have a room to ourselves, with two nice, comfortable single beds, cupboards for storage, toilet and seperate shower-and-washbasin. French for washbasin is lavabo, which always makes me think 'loverboy'... The building is new and everything is clean and secure, AND the windows are like the cool Slovenian windows which can swing sideways on hinges at the side, or down vertically on hinges at the bottom. It's hard to explain.

Unfortunately, we had yet another mission-through-hot-sun-with-heavy-backbacks (sacs à dos) to get to the hostel, and ended up going about half a kilometre too far up the road. It was because our map wasn't very good, really! (Dad was navigating) We got there eventually, though, and stowed our stuff, had a quick rest, then headed out to explore the town of:

TOULOUSE!
So far, I really love this town. It's one of the major university towns of France (ie. there are multiple universities here), as well as being France's fourth largest city. Consequently, there is HEAPS to see here: the disjointed Cathedral, several unique churches, lots of galleries and theatres; as well as the atmosphere that a large student population brings to a town: second hand shops, bookshops everywhere (including English bookshops!!), little eateries, poetry readings, and a thin layer of greasy dirt over the whole lot. Very cool.

The streets are often narrow and semi-pedestrian, and you never know whether the street you're about to enter will contain a grungy music shop, army surplus store and clothing from 1920 to today, or designer boutiques full of Louis Vuitton, and lots of names I've never heard of before. There are little squares scattered all over the place (although actually a lot of them are triangles), and most of them have a fountain or monument or piece of garden.

Green spaces are not hard to find; there's an enormous roundabout whose middle is a really nice, shady, quiet park with classical statues and a massive fountain, and across the river is a stretch of very peaceful grass along the bank with trees and beige gravel pathways and park benches. We saw a jetboat go past on the river towing a wake-boarder.

If I had more time (and a ton of money) I would like to hang around here and check out all the crazy performances that go on around the city. The opera house here is one of the most prestigious in France, and Toulouse is well known for putting on unusual shows. There seems to be a big Jazz following here as well, although I haven't found anything to back that up yet...

Me:
Anyway, I'm doing ok. I was getting a bit glum a couple of days ago; missing friends and feeling a bit adrift at sea. Now I'm fine, after praying (in two languages, cool huh?) and reading and talking to Mum on the phone! When you're so far away from everything familiar, you have days like that. Mind you, you have days like that at home too, sometimes!

My French is definitely improving. On our last night in Cahors I met a guy at the hostel who is a med student. He was walking part (about 200km, I think) of the pilgrimage route to Santiago di Compostella. We got talking, and decided to go watch the Liberation Day fireworks in one of the town squares. It was really cool, we wandered around town (we were early for the fireworks) chatting in both broken languages for about an hour. He didn't speak much English and I didn't speak much French, but it worked ok. That's the second med student I've met on my trip so far...

Now:
Today we have just spent the day (so far) exploring the city a bit more. It's been overcast, which is good, because the further South we go the hotter it gets. I think I'm getting a tan, but I still feel mega-pastey next to all the super-brown French people. Actually, a lot of them are pastey too, but there are lots of naturally dark people who put my best tanning efforts to shame without even trying.

I bought new deoderant today, but the only anti-perspirant I could find in "Petit Casino" (don't worry, it's a mini supermarket) was Nivea women's stuff with moisturisers and girly things added. Seems to be doing the trick though, and my armpits feel so soft and silky...

Well, take care!