Les Pyrénées

Having lived in Scotland for most of my life, It’s shocking how little I’ve taken advantage of its landscape. The highlands and islands are so accessible, being only a short few hours drive away from both Glasgow and Edinburgh, and with convenient train lines and buses, there’s really no excuse. When asked whether I go skiing, hiking, or even just walking in Scotland, I’m embarrassed by my poor response.

Visiting the Pyrénées, then, has inevitably been high on my list of things to do during my time in France. The school holidays gave me the perfect opportunity to finally pack up my rucksack and get outdoors.

Sarah (my au pair friend) and I decided to base ourselves in Lourdes for the short trip. It seemed the obvious choice due to its proximity to the mountains, its array of cheap accommodation options, and its ease of access – being only a two hour drive from Toulouse.

Lourdes itself is a bit of a strange place, if you’re looking for a city break with lots to do after hours, head elsewhere. The entire town is dedicated to the Virgin Mary and attracts shed loads of Catholic pilgrims all year round. The upside of this is the stunning church impossibly built upon a cavernous rock just outside of the centre, the downside is the odd and slightly ironic touristic bent of the town, with flourescent souvenir shops lining every street, and selling anything and everything dedicated to Catholicism.

The Pic du Jer was our first ‘climb’. The mountain is hard to miss as it composes the dramatic landscape surrounding Lourdes. Its terrifying hundred-year-old funicular runs every thirty minutes, and a round trip will set you back only 10 euros. At the top there are a variety of different walking routes that wind around the mountain’s peak. The views are incredible, and allow you to appreciate Lourdes from an aerial perspective, linking the flat and sprawling land to the north, to the mountainous terrain to the south.

The town of Cauterets was the following day’s mountain destination. I was pleasantly surprised by the pretty little ski town, which could not be further removed from the grey and dreary Lourdes. According to my Google findings, this was our best bet for finding walking trails, and its large and welcoming tourist office certainly didn’t disappoint; with an array of activities for every outdoorsy type you could think of. We went along with their advice and headed further south to the Pont d’Espagne.

After the most scenic thirty minute drive known to man, scaling impossibly upwards along a winding mountain road (which must boast the most waterfalls ever recorded per square mile), we reached a vast car park which could cater for thousands of walkers and climbers all year round.

We decided to take a hiking route to Lac de Gaube, a name instantly recognisable to me (thanks again Google) as one of the most beautiful lakes to be found in the Pyrénées. The hike was pleasant and not too tough for a beginner like myself, plus the thought of a blissful picnic involving chocolate at the end of it was enough to keep me going. On our way up we met Annika, a German teaching assistant who we discovered is also living in Toulouse. We ended up driving back together and having yet another picnic that night. Funny how things can span out sometimes – friends in high places anyone?

L’Automne en France

Carcassonne

When in southwest France, it’s impossible to overlook La Cité de Carcassonne, both because it’s one of the top tourist destinations in the area, and also because it literally is a massive fortress on a hill.

The au pairs assembled and braved a French road trip about an hour south east of Toulouse. With the weather on our side as ever, it was a perfect day to appreciate some fields, listen to terrible French pop music on the radio, and numbify our bums on some car seats.

 

The approach alone is impressive, as the turrets and spires rise above its modern counterpart; Carcassonne. Upon arriving in La Cité(signposted throughout the streets below) we were immediately swallowed into a mass wave of tourists squeezing in amongst the quaint and narrow streets. Obviously we did the typical tourist thing to do – complain about other tourists. Every photograph I took is guaranteed to have been taken simultaneously by about five other people – effectively queuing to do so. The town itself is a bit surreal – almost like a toy town.  Souvenir shops lace the streets, and if there aren’t post cards outside, it’s probably a café equally designed for the city’s daily visitors.

This isn’t to say the Carcassonne experience wasn’t enjoyable. In fact I was happy to discover a sweet shop well stocked with free tasters, sweeping the room without shame and only mildly pretending to consider a purchase. And the church was nice.

 

Top tips for Carcassonne enjoyment:

• Visit at a less busy and stressful time of year to avoid those horrid tourists.

• If the former is unavoidable and you do find yourself in confined space with the bumbag-wearing sort, I recommend a stroll along the outer walls of the city. Panoramic views of the surrounding countryside are stunning. Not to mention that breeze.
• As we discovered, if you want to eat well in La Cité, it will come at a price. And if you want a cheaper option, like a panini, its best to keep expectations low. I would recommend sourcing your refreshments outside of city walls to get more value for your money.
• The larger, more modern city often gets a bad rep in comparison to its walled neighbour, but from what we saw, it’s just as worth a visit and a wander.
• Take everything I say with a pinch of salt – I complain a lot.

Terrible Tourists in Toulouse

If you want to read about the museums of Toulouse it’s best to look away now.

The first Sunday of the month is prime time for museum enthusiasts in Toulouse as most of the major museums (if not all) are free. It follows, then, that my new au pair friends and I decided to spend this ‘free day’ visiting said museums.

Thanks to Facebook, i.e. the holy grail for loners abroad, I’ve conjured up a pretty large group of fellow au pairs to befriend and explore the city with. We’re a varied bunch, German, Danish, American, Spanish and British, and we bring confusion to restaurants and bars throughout the city, as waiters continuously attempt to guess our nationality. We also seem to have one thing in common, we all value sitting down, and eating.

First we visited the beautiful Musée des Augustins and took in some of its impressive Medieval sculpture, Romanesque architecture, and 18th century painting. However, soon our thoughts turned from the art of France, to its cuisine. A lesson I learnt particularly well today: never go to a museum on an empty stomach.

Musée des Augustins

Musée des Augustins

Musée des Augustins

 

Musée des Augustins

 

Once talk of lunch – personally the most anticipated meal of the day – was in the air, we bee-lined for the exit.

Sundays in Toulouse are tricky though, the city effectively shuts down, the phrase ‘ghost town’ isn’t far off, so finding a prime lunch spot is more of a challenge than the same task on a week day. Nonetheless, a creperie was found and some humongous salads ordered. And wine. And dessert.

Our day of touristic intentions had descended into a long and leisurely lunch on a terrace – how typically French of us.

At around 4pm we dragged our sorry asses onto the Metro in search of some, perhaps more engaging, natural history. Fast forward an hour and endless displays of shells, insects and stuffed birds, which ordinarily may or may not have taken my interest, had brought about an incredible thirst for refreshments. Once more we ditched the culture in exchange for a bar.

• Fact one: museums can really take it out of you – especially on swelteringly hot summer days when sangria is infinitely more appealing than dead hippos.
• Fact two: when making a new group of friends, bars and restaurants are clear winners in terms of sociability.

So, maybe one month I’ll go back and really absorb some culture, just no one offer me wine and conversation instead.

Some photos from the weekend:

Bric-a-brac market on Saturday

 

 

One Week In

Tomorrow marks one week since I arrived in France. In many ways I feel settled already. I’ve gotten to grips with the town – mainly just being able to get to the train station, the swimming pool, and the supermarket. I’ve gotten to know the girls a little and feel I have a good grasp of the family dynamic, although, the hard part could be figuring out where I fit within that.

Maybe that happens in week two.

This first week I’ve already:

• Lost a child
• Witnessed one temper tantrum and one breakdown into tears.
• Been told off for loading the dishwasher ‘wrong’.
• Been swimming twice. Find something you can do and stick to it – right?
• Forgotten my swimming costume once, with the result of wearing lost property – yes In hindsight that’s pretty gross.
• Been for three bike rides. Simple pleasures, plus – helmets are really nice to wear in the heat.
• Dealt with a broken down bicycle. A man literally stopped his car at the side of a busy road and helped me. Who said the French weren’t nice?
• Been stopped and asked out on the street by a creepy man donning a wife-beater and sunnies.
• Been harassed by a homeless woman in Toulouse who called me egotistical, selfish, and a ‘beautiful bitch’.
• Had four different types of red wine. This seems mandatory with the evening meal: not complaining.

A few photographs from my week:

 

So Doorknobs in Toulouse are cool…

Bike ride along ‘Le Touch’ with a fellow au pair

Chez moi

Pearl, or ‘bébé-chat’

The Garonne

 

 

 

 

Don’t Lose The Kids

First rule of au pairing: don’t lose the kids. Yes this is painfully obvious – an absolute no-no, but this happened to me today.

This morning I woke the girls at around 8.30am under strict instructions from their parents. The school year begins for them on Wednesday this week, so their early morning routine needed some practise. I had a great day planned in which I could really shine in my au pair duties – the kids would be obedient AND think I was cool at the same time. I would also impress their parents with my ability to organise the girls and implement order around the house.

Fast forward to 10.30am – the moment I have to call their mum because Sophie (the eldest) has apparently disappeared.

A confusion surrounding the what/when/where of our plans led to this predicament, after Sophie told Chloe and I that she would catch up with us at the bus stop – something about changing her shoes. At this point, admittedly, I should have known that leaving her behind was a recipe for disaster, although she’s 15, I reckon her parents would be pretty disapproving.

So, take one solitary 15 year old without a phone, one au pair with no idea how to navigate the town, and one crying 11 year old with zero clue of where we were actually meant to meet, and you get a very stressful situation, with many miles walked searching to and fro.

Ultimately we decided to go back to the house and wait it out. Sophie made her return at around 10.35, unluckily the phone call of doom to her mother had already been made.

All afternoon I dreaded the return of the parents, would I be told off? Shouted at? Fired, for leaving their girl alone in the house?

Not one word has been spoken about the ‘incident’.

Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal? She IS 15 after all, but maybe next time I’ll wait, and spare myself the palpitations.

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.