Trip to the South of France: Welcome to Toulouse!

Despite the stressful start, the 6 hour train trip to Toulouse was pretty uneventful. I had a sad, cold, overpriced train sandwich, and a sad, warm Nescafe cappuccino. Yes, apparently Nescafe cappuccino exists. So the food offered on board TGV trains isn't great, but TGV trains are pretty much wonderful. They're quiet and smooth, and they're much roomier than airplanes, there isn't the hassle of security and stressed-out flight attendants, and they almost always run exactly on time. My train pulled into Toulouse today at the exact minute it said it would on my ticket. Plus Train à Grande Vitesse sounds so cool but just means "train at great speed."

The long ride through the French countryside was not bad either. It was rather gray and foggy so it was kind of hard to see much, but as we got further south there was a bit better visibility. The landscape reminds me a lot of where I grew up in western Maryland. There were big, forested, rolling hills, and the train often went through places where there were cuts in the hillside. There were also little cottages with steep thatched roofs and every once in awhile I'd see a castle that looked like it stepped right out of a fairytale peeking out of otherwise uninterrupted forest.

After I got to the train station, it was just a few blocks to my hotel. Unfortunately, when I stepped through the door I was greeted with a huge flight of stairs. I was waiting for some people going downstairs to pass me before I started going up, but it turned out one of them was the hotel owner coming down to carry my bag for me, which was nice. After carrying my bags all day I usually feel like it's a matter of honor or something to finish carrying them to my final destination myself, but I couldn't really muster the energy to protest this time.

Also, it turns out my room is awesome. I paid a few extra Euros for a "premium" single room, which I thought just meant that breakfast came with my reservation, but also means that I get a big bed. I've also got a tv and a really nice heating unit. Plus everything is really clean and nice. I have relatively low expectations about hostels where I stay at this point. I understand and accept that the lower prices mean that the linens and mattress will be showing signs of wear and that I might have to share a somewhat icky bathroom with lots of people. But oh wow, this place is nice. I was thinking about going out to see if there was a new year's celebration happening, but I'm exhausted and I don't think I can be persuaded to move away from this lovely warm new blanket and the lovely warm wifi. Sorry to be lame, but I'm still sore from all the suitcase-carrying, and I've never really been one for holidays.

Anyway, just an hour after my train pulled into the station, I was changed, showered, and ready to see the city. The attendant at the desk was really nice and told me all about Toulouse, drawing on a map of the city that he gave me. He also told me where to get the fancy coffee. A man after my own heart. I went into town and saw a really amazing brick cathedral (and took lots of photos that I still can't take off the camera yet), and the main square, and had a look at the shops. I really like Toulouse so far. After Paris, it's a very manageable size. Visiting Paris a lot has been great, but I often find the size of cities that large to be very difficult. For example, it's so big that it's hard to know where to go for some things. If I'm out visiting some part of Paris and I want eat, I'm so often in different parts of the city that I'm constantly having to guess where to go and hope my choice isn't too expensive or awful-tasting or both. Paris is really too big for me to feel like I know even a particular part of it well. Central Toulouse seems to me like it's a similar size to central Cambridge, actually, which maybe makes sense because it's a university town. Well, Toulouse actually seems like it has more shopping available in the city center, yet somehow things are closer together. Amazingly. In the course of walking around town for a little bit, I saw a few highlights of the city, and found central, easily accessible areas where I can find something good to eat at a reasonable price.

Unfortunately, it started to rain while I was out walking around, and it was warm enough that I wasn't wearing a coat at all and didn't mind, but when it really started coming down pretty hard I realized I'd get very soaked if I didn't find an umbrella somewhere. The likeliest place seemed to be a big store that had a lot of housewares-type items, but I couldn't see right away where they were among the several floors of the store. So, I asked someone who worked there where the umbrellas were. I find the French word for umbrella to be a funny word to say: "parapluie."

Anyway, she showed me where the umbrellas were. As I started looking at them, an old man who was also looking at the umbrellas asked me if I knew what price they were. It took me a moment to figure out what he was asking. Usually when someone starts speaking to me, I'm a little slow at first because I have to not only understand the other language but get over that "Huh? Is someone speaking to me?" moment. Anyway, the umbrella prices were listed low on the shelves near to the floor, and the old man was having a hard time reading them, so I got down so I could look at them and I read them off to him. So we had a sort of cute conversation in French picking out umbrellas together. Then he asked me where I was from. Actually he said "and you are... what?" which I will assume is not rude in French, like it kind of is when translated literally into English (I don't know what I am... a giraffe?). I said I was American and he was a bit surprised, and he told me he didn't know how to say much in American (he actually said "in American" rather than "in English" which I think is as odd to say in French as it is in English). Then I told him that I was just happy that he could understand me when I spoke to him, and he said he could understand my French no problem, which I enjoyed. Then he told me happy new year in French, and then in English. And I said "thanks, you too" in English, to which he looked slightly confused. But I think we were both very happy about the interaction, on the whole.

After getting my umbrella, I went and got a quiche and an Orangina and then went back to my hotel room. The lady at the bakery heated up the quiche for me, which was nice, but unfortunately it cooled a bit as I walked back to my hotel through the rain, hurrying down the slightly seedy street where it is (I would describe this hotel as "gentrifying" the street it's on), clutching my umbrella in one hand and my quiche in the other. The quiche was tasty. And now I am writing this blog entry, and I think I'm ready to fall asleep. I've got big plans for some tourism tomorrow.