Toulouse

The first city I actually saw on our vacation was Toulouse.  I'm not sure of the 'official' pronunciation; the people with whom I stayed said Toolooz, quickly, though I heard TooLoose, too.

However it's pronounced, I can see why people like it. My hosts live on the outskirts, in PECHBONNIEU (that's how they always wrote it; it seems to me a French thing to do that, not to mention to have FRANCE on  a separate line when writing the address.  And an all-caps last name, too.)  Pechbonnieu is another of those words that I'm sure is easily for a native to pronounce; for me, I usually came out with Peshbonnoo.  I'm sure that isn't right.  Anyway, the area where they live is somewhat rural, to the point where they have what I'd call a huge garden -- the square footage is probably about the same as I have, but where mine is grass, trees, and bushes, their's is mostly fruits and vegetables, along with a bit of lawn.  And this is the small garden; they also have a farm somewhere.

One day we went into the city.  We didn't go all the way in, but rather parked on the outskirts and took the train. (The station's name is La Vache, which made me smile.)  The Toulousian metro is small and efficient;  it's completely automated, which makes a lot of sense to me.  We emerged near a central square that was being prepared for 14 July, the French national holiday, the next day.  It's a delightful area.  We spent a little time in an office building that I regarded as very old, and they probably didn't think too much about.  It includes the mayor's office, where people get married frequently in a huge, ornate hall.  I really enjoyed seeing the inside of the building, particularly when I noticed that in one hall, the name of one of the politicians whose portrait was in the hall was Bastard.  Yes, my friend said, laughing, we have bastards as politicians, too. 

Here's a view from one of the windows, as well as from near an ice cream stand across the square.

We also went to an art museum (have to admit, the nicest thing there was how cool it was on a hot day; the display was actually of photos taken in New York in the 1950s; I actually grew up knowing some of those areas), and walked around a bit over the river, where we watched some boaters, as well as a dog who'd jumped in, splashed around, and then couldn't figure out how to easily get out again.  Fortunately for the dog, there were steps.

The next day, it was a rush to get to the TGV station, which was jammed with what appeared to be college students on holiday, as well as to find out where my section of the train would stop.  The station itself is actually quite pretty, and I wish that I'd been able to see more of it.  Perhaps one day, I will!