What day is it again?

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2 Cups of coffee at a local cafe began our day, then a trip by metro to sort out tickets for Toulouse on the SNCF. Please be assured French bureaucracy exceeds any frustrations we endure at home. Our first attempt to catch the metro was prevented by a bureaucrat who refused to sell anyone tickets and walked out of the ticket booth when people began knocking on the glass to gain his attention. Consequently everyone had to walk to the next station to catch the metro. Fortunately, I don't speak french and am oblivious to many of the frustrations Mary endured in communicating with these people. Anyway, we returned to the unit and had a visit from Charles (one of the boys - now lawyer Mary looked after) so we missed the Musee de Picasso which closed at 5.30pm. If we return to Paris, Charles wants to show Mary his house and cook her dinner.

At 6pm we set out for Musee d'Art Moderne. There was an exhibition devoted to women artists but I thought it was dominated by angry feminists. Finally we got to the modern art and my beloved Matisse. I left my backpack in the cloakroom so did not have my camera. Mary took some sensational shots. Alas, this was cut short by closing time, so we walked home and had salad for dinner.




Up and at 'em again...
We pack our belongings in preparation for our trip to Toulouse, then pop out for coffee and freshly baked warm croissants. This lifestyle is going to be hard to give up. We bid farewell to our little apartment and take a taxi ride to Montparnasse Station. I must say that being a passenger in a taxi is much nicer experience than the frantic and often adversarial relationship between pedestrian and vehicle. Our taxi driver was completely unfazed by Parisian peak hour traffic. We arrived early and boarded the train before the hoards and secured premium luggage space. Unfortunately our seats faced the opposite direction to that the train was travelling in. This may not have been an issue for some, but for those like me who have troublesome tummies, the six hour trip was a nightmare. Ever the optimist, Mary pointed out that it meant I focused on my stomach instead of my foot.

We booked into a hotel across from the Toulouse Railway Station. The people are lovely and recommend eateries and things to see. We set off to explore. The sun doesn't go down here till approx 8.30 and the shops stay open till late. People frequent bars and cafe's. A warm breeze blows and there is an overwhelming desire to sit down somewhere and absorb everything going on around you. Alas there are so many people about, it is difficult to get served, so we keep moving and decide on cassoulet for dinner. It is delicious of course. Then a leisurely walk home and into bed. I am exhausted. Pictures of Toulouse tomorrow. Au voir

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Comments

[Evelyn and Estelle]

Oh dear for train journey
So sorry to hear of your suffering on the train journey Joss - six hours is quite a long time to be going backwards! However, I'm so glad that the diet is on the back burner, it would have been so boring for us all if it weren't. All I can say about the photos the two of you are showing to us is that it looks so French and enchanting from the rooftops to the architecture. Happy days.

[Grant]

Keep up the Blogging
Love the blog. Keep it up.

[kate]

...
i like the pic of you, but it makes me miss you. All the other pics make Australia look so boring and our house look so plain. Every inch of France looks beautiful and I'm every bit jealous. xx