A Dry Day in Toulouse

 

As is often the case, it is not what you look for, but what you find that is the most interesting. Earlier we had found the old bridge we were looking for, and it was most interesting, but then we walked through what might might be termed a part of town where tourist don’t often go, climbed a set of stairs and found another bridge.

 

It turned out this bridge led to the university, and we had a great time walking around the “campus'’. Then we stumbled on this church. Well that might not be exactly true. I saw the back of this church and circled it until we found the entrance. It turned out to be very interesting, and included the usual huge pipe organ. I can’t imagine why every organist in the US wouldn’t want to take a tour that visited many of the great churches of Europe to hear the organ being played. Every one we have ever heard has been so spectacular, and we just stumble on them being played.

 

This one gave us a real laugh. She was dressed on top like the French, though her pants definitely didn’t have a “French cut” to them. And those shoes, they may be comfortable, but definitely not European. Oh, and she definitely spoke American English. A classic example of an American not trying to look like a tourist and standing out like a sore thumb. We have no problem with the way we dress. Besides, it means the waiter speaks English to us from the get go, instead of us having to ask if he speaks English.

 

Remember those kids in that first photo all dressed in red and sitting on the bridge? Well here is a close up of two of them. So maybe that wasn’t us on the bridge, but these are the same shirts those kids were wearing.

This is what happens when you keep visiting churches. In front of another church was that same bunch of kids, actually college age, and we found out they were from a tourism school where they studying to be able to work in tourism related jobs. One of their assignments was to interact with actual tourists, so to document that they did exactly that, they took off their shirts, we put them on, and they took our photo, first with their camera, then with ours.

I feel sorry for those tourists who have their list of six sights to see for the day, and zoom from one to the other visiting all six, but seeing nothing. We wander along, going where the streets often take and end up doing things like this. The people who have everything planned out are happy, and we are happy. I’ll not judge them, but then again, I’d sure rather live Life the way we do.

 

Mealtime begins with a pichet of wine. We compromise on rose since Linda doesn't do red and and I don’t really care for the whites she prefers.

 

This is the third photo I took like this and the first one where she had her eyes open. I think she was really looking down at her bowl of cassoulet, but claiming they were closed works for her. Another meal, another fantastic meal. Every meal in France is fantastic.

 

What do you mean, every meal in France can’t be fantastic? Out of my way, I’ve got to wipe that bowl clean with my bread. One could say we like the food in France so much because it is different that food in America, and they’d be 100% correct. Different in the sense it isn’t the same food we get in America, different in the sense it is healthy, and different because it tastes great. And lastly, great because it doesn’t have a bunch of grease dripping off it like most American restaurant food seems to have. In fact it is so good that the scale is probably going to say we gained over twenty pounds each. True, but what an awesome way to pack on the pounds!!