Toulouse: Rose-Red City

The Canal du Midi cuts almost through the heart of Toulouse, the finest and liveliest city in south-west France. There can be no better approach to any city. (The Grand Union Canal does a similar thing in Birmingham - but somehow it's not quite the same!) Beforehand, when imagining Toulouse, I'd vaguely thought: Aerospace. Airbus. Shiny new industrial parks. And that was about it. Nothing had prepared me for bright sun on rose-red brick and cloistered convents ...

... and monasteries now art museums ...

... the 16th century Pont-Neuf spanning the broad Garonne river ...

... tiny parks and squares with their fountains and sculptures ...

... and bijou little shops and cafés in the narrow streets and alleyways ...

... the gargoyles ...

... the bustling Place du Capitole ...



... and the medieval wonder that is the Basilica of Saint-Sernin, Toulouse's crowning glory ...



... where a wedding had just taken place ...

There was also the Hôtel Dieu Saint-Jacques (a former pilgrim hostel and hospice) with its huge garden sculpture of a scallop shell, and the Church of Notre-Dame de la Daurade with its much-venerated Black Virgin, and the Cathedral of Saint-Etienne with its 13th century rose window and unique asymmetrical design ...

For the 1st time on the trip I stayed 2 nights - the 2nd one in an Ibis hotel. Bliss!

Revelling In The Rigole

In the morning I continued along a flat, agricultural plain between 2 chains of hills. Cows grazed placidly. Dogs ran out barking from small farms (if their tails were in the air, you knew they were friendly). I passed field upon field of sunflowers awaiting harvest, their ripe and blackened heads heads all bowing to the south (the French for sunflower is tournesol which literally means 'turned towards the sun'). Tractors ploughed fields where the maize crop had already been gathered in.

After 18 km of these pastoral scenes I reached the charming bastide town of Revel. It was built on the usual grid pattern - with a central, arcaded square and a market hall (housing the Tourist Office) in the middle of it. This market hall is spectacular. In fact it's the biggest of its kind in France. The tiled and belfried roof was supported by enormous, fissured oak beams and pillars. It originally dates from the 14th century but was rebuilt after a fire. A relaxing evening was spent in the local gîte municipale. One of the volunteer hospitaliers (he'd just got married and was about to go on his honeymoon) entertained us with a repertoire of Jacques Brel and Georges Moustaki. I couldn't help thinking he was the spitting image of a young Frank Zappa ... or possibly an incipient Salvador Dali?

Next day I followed a delightfully bendy path alongside the Rigole, a man-made watercourse which drains the Atlantic/Mediterranean watershed. It was designed by Pierre-Paul Riquet, who also constructed the Canal du Midi - one of the great engineering feats of the 17th century - into which the Rigole feeds. Just before the confluence of the 2 waterways stands Le Moulin de Naurouze:

An Englishman and his French wife had bought Le Moulin de Narouze 10 years ago and were gradually restoring the whole complex. They'd opened a pilgrim gîte in one part of it - and there I spent the night. I'd walked 30 km that day and was very tired. My feet were beginning to hurt more and more - especially in the afternoons - and I knew that my plantar fasciitis had returned with a vengeance. Next morning I made my way down to the Partage d'Eaux, where the Rigole runs into the Canal du Midi:

This whole area is fascinating if you like canal boats, canal basins, locks and such things. Which I do. So I really enjoyed the ensuing 2 days' walk by the Canal du Midi, in the plane trees' shade, as I headed towards Toulouse, La Ville Rose, 50 km away ...