Salut Toulouse

All alone, with a ten journey ticket, a pocket map, and a peach in my bag, I made my way into Toulouse for the first time. I put thoughts of not actually knowing how on earth to get back to my suburban house out of my mind, and replaced them with thoughts of how on earth I’d find my way around the city.

Getting to the city from my side of town requires a split journey. The first leg is on the SNCF (the smallest two-carriage train I have ever been on), the second is by Metro (also small enough to rival Glasgow’s subway system). Altogether it takes roughly fifteen minutes, hardly a long commute. I wondered if, with my glaring pale skin, camera bag around my neck, and a permanent facial expression of anxiety, I looked like a tourist – most likely.

I decided to alight at Capitole, mainly because Place du Capitole is the place I recognised most from my pre-departure Google investigations. The metro isn’t actually situated in the square but in a more shaded and bench-friendly area around the other side of the Capitole building. Luckily my instinctive sense of direction (watching the other tourists) lead me through a grand neo-classical archway of the imposing town hall, and got me slap bang in the middle of the famous square itself.

Capitole

Market at Place du Capitole

I treated myself to some people-watching on various benches around the city. There is a definite cosmopolitan feeling to the city, which could be due to its large international student population, but there’s something to be said for Its geography – closer to Barcelona than to Paris, it figures that the city feels more Mediterranean than its prim and proper big cousin.

My hunger forced me to practice my French. I came across Chez Jean, a café, where I bought a salmon wrap to go, and an Elle magazine (the chic way of learning the language). I used my pocket map to navigate myself to the river, an ideal scenic lunch spot filled with like-minded city goers. The laid-back atmosphere of the Garonne’s banks mirror that of the city’s streets, but provides a welcome breath of fresh air from the bustle of the centre.

The streets – like many old European cities – can be a little winding and confusing, but everywhere you turn there are sign posts guiding you in your desired direction, or, when all else fails, Capitole.

Day one in Toulouse was a success. I’m left with a good impression of the city and its people, which I’m excited to explore over the next few months. Hopefully I can work on the looking-like-a-tourist thing by then.