We had arrived in toulouse by train, first travelling past the glorious mountain framed cathedrals of lordes, spectacular lakes and then countryside that you don’t feel guilty about napping through.
I waited in line for half an hour again to buy tickets for the bloody bikes for our final leg of our adventure, these are the moments you wonder if you made the right choice with being a cyclotourist (when you look up car hire prices and see they are €300+ for the week not including petrol or the bore of driving you feel better). The girl at the desk spoke almost no English, to match my almost no french but we muddled through and she was so friendly and charming I came out of the whole ordeal feeling rather happy and proudly myself.
Our airbnb was on the quieter side of town (not the dodgier side just for a change) and our host zoomed over on his lunch break to let us in. He left us to our own divices and i had a poke around. There was a chicken in the yard which was delightful and ithe house itself was decorated with creativity. I love an airbnb that inspires! There was a mosaic underconstruction in the dining room looking ready for a lifestyle magazine shoot and all sorts of lovely old things. The generous balcony was what stole our hearts though, the perfect place to relax.
We took a ride/run along the canals and river of toulouse. At a red light there was a man juggling before the stopped cars, we crossed, on the otherwise two female acrobats were clowning around for cars there too. It seemed like the circus was following us. Along the river there were all sorts of fascinating little houses nestled between towering apartments, stubbornly holding their ground against developers. A man sitting on a two storey wall smoking, starring, an elderly couple creaking along, some houses more tree or vine than brick and mortar. The trees were really flowering, some covered in a blanket of fluff that lifted up and drifted lazily across the bike path. (so you see in a land where everyone drinks bottled water at home rather than from the tap I shouldn’t feel so guilty for a bath to clear the lungs)
We then sped home passed bridges and twenty somethings lazing in the sun, public flower beds that all seemed to have some sort of strange edible edited in: chard, purple basil, kale, how fun! Back to our little duplex with the veggie garden and the chook, the chook! We had left the gate open whilst putting our bikes away and she had sprinted in, we spent some hilarious minutes chasing her back into her pen. Ah just like home.
