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Published: July 12th 2008
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Church in Toulouse
Chamber music in the church So, we have been city hopping. After we left Barcelona, our host fell through for Marseille, so we decided instead to try a city we had heard of from uncle Tim, Toulouse. We arrived in the evening, in a light drizzle to cool air and pink streets. After the thick heat of Barclona, we welcomed the coolness. Our little budget hotel pulled out of a guidebook, turned out to be lovely. up a twisty spiral staircase to the second floor was a little foyer decorated with antiques and antiquarian art. The tall french windows of our room, opened into a tiny courtyard below and layers of slanting red tiled roofs above. We had a big old armoire in the corner and big comfortable bed and a shower right in the room. They man knocked with breakfast of tea and croissants at 9:00. The city itself although a little gloomy in the rain, was very lovely, clean and bustling but not crowded with very polite, neat, and smartly attired french. Compared with barcelona, where everything hangs out, it was an interesting contrast. We ventured out the first evening from our quiet street and turned the corner into Place St George, to hear
Toulouse
miranda with her pigtails argentian tango music. The square was filled with couples, women in flouncy skirts and heels, and men donning elegant suits, twirling and dipping to the accordian music. We gathered that it must be a dance school, for the level of skill was extremely high. It was quite a romantic moment to sit under the stars (the rain had stopped) and watch the spectacular dancing. The next morning, (sunday) after ripping ourselves from the big warm bed, and our nice little breakfast, we walked around a much more sober city. Everything was closed so we wound up at the church. Very elegant, one of the nicer sanctuaries we've seen. We were greeted by the sounds of the giant pipe organ two stories higher than where we stood, thundering through a very dissonant and powerful piece, then the music would every so often open to a bright little melody cutting through the chords played on the horn. A single man as big as an ant stood on the edge of the balcony with his gleaming trumpet. As we walked around we noticed musicians arriving with their cases, and discovered that there would be a chamber music concert. We waited for it to
seeing stars
outside gate of church in Toulouse begin, looking up at the magestic altar. Once the musicians began to play, we quickly realized that they were slightly more amateur that they appeared. The music was nice, if slightly off key and we stayed for a small while before deciding to find a park for the afternoon. there was a nice little square with a fountain, and I drew some pictures in my journal while miranda wrote about our adventures. when it began to get cool, we found a middle eastern restaurant and I had dolmas and a lebanese beer, miranda had filafel. The next day it was off to to lyon.
The train ride was miserable. Warning Tyrade Approaching: We had a seat reservation but there was someone in our seats when we got there. We nearly got in a brawl with this French woman and her daughter. (the french have this way of making you look incredibly stupid, while keeping themselves blameless. she assured us that it was not possible for us to have her seat number and therefore WE were wrong). Turns out they booked us for those seats on the wrong day. Even when we say in perfect practiced french that we want
tickets for a specific day, and time, from a specific place to a specific place, the SNCF tickets employees will look at us like we are crazy and say the phrase that turns my blood cold: "it is not possible." we will argue for 10 minutes before they type something into their little computers and miraculously, the train we were looking for is found. Then the train usually turns out to be the worst possible way to get to that particular place. For example, when we travelled from Lyon to Metz they took us by way of Strasbourg on the German Border, a nine hour train ride total. The ticket inspector took one look at our tickets and discovered the discrepancy in the dates. Even though it was the fault of the SNCF woman we bought the tickets from, of course it was our fault, therefore the woman and her daughter kept their seats and we sat in the dining car on little wobbly stools for 4 hours. AAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHH!
When we got to Lyon, and down into the metro we were held up at the entrance to the metro, because no one was on duty in the ticket counter
Lyon
along the river and the machines only took coins or european credit cards with the smartchip inside. We had a ten dollar bill, and we hunted high and low for a nonexistant machine to make change. Miranda had the bright idea to take a little passport photo that cost 2€ and get the remaining change from that. She came trudging back with a defeated posture and clutched in her hand the silliest four small pictures I have ever seen. Inside the little frames, bedecked with 4 different fantasy hairstyles, is mirandas face scowling in 4 different ways. After the photos were taken (she just hit any button) the machine informed her that it doesnt give change. With no cash left and no tickets we had to take the law into our own hands. We noticed that when a person swiped their ticket and passed through the automatic doors, they stay open for 5 seconds before closing. Of course the well-behaved french line up and wait for the doors to close before they swipe and pass through. We just rode on the coattails of other metro-goers and snuck in after them. Luckily we weren't caught.
Our hosts were very nice. David and Natasha.
the florist cafe
flowers in the cookies in Lyon Natasha was home in the afternoon so we met her first. She insisted that we speak French to practice. It was tough, but good for the brain. When David got home we had a nice dinner on their little porch, of Rattatouille, and glace (icecream) for dessert. Short and sweet becasue the next day they worked and had a party in the evening so we didnt see them till right before bed. They were very kind to let us have the key to come and go. In the morning we hiked to the top of the hill to see the Cathedral. It is lushly decorated with gold inlaid murals. And it was a big spot on the pilgrim route to Compostela in spain, where St. James is. The cathedral is on the pinnacle of the mountain and the Roman theater is, built into the moiuntainside, cascading down the hill. The theater is still very much intact and they were setting up for a concert in the evening. We visited the gallo-roman museum and saw some amazing artifacts. The most interesting were the games and the jewelry. Board games still survive with little gamepieces carved like animals, dice, and pickup sticks
delicieux
floral gateaux in Lyon made out of bone. some of the beaded and metal jewelry looks like you could find it in any shop today. things don't change that much. Also there were remains of a cemetery from an early christian community. The gravestones with names and epitaphs are still visible. Very interesting. Afterwards, we hiked the rest of the way down the hill, and found a lovely little florist cafe, where they make cookies and pastries with the essences of the flowers they sell. I had macarones with jasmine and rose. Miranda had a gatteau with nectarine and orchid. I had tea with flowers and miranda had a l'eau avec syrop with rosewater. We got some lavender syrop to take home. Very interesting. We headed into the old part of town wlking along the lovely waterfront. We found our wayinto a mazeof little streets with shops and art dealerships. there wer lovely old prints of the city for sale at extremely high prices so we just looked. We found a minneautures museum with a reasonable entrance fee. It turned out to be the most interesting part of the city. Little diaramas were situated behind glass, with whole little universes inside. This one artist
minneature unverse
a mineature swimming pool
the minneature museum in Lyon takes old photographs or disintegrating buildings and replicates every detail. He made crumbling old theaters, insides of restaurants from the fin-de-siecle, mechanic garages from the 1920's, old schoolrooms, my favorite was a Great Gatsby-looking pool room, with solarium windows and tiled walls. It was amazing. After that we founf a nice park and parked in front of a greenhouse to paint and read. It was a lovely day.
stay tuned for Metz.....more comming I promise.....
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