'Trouver d'abord, chercher après'

Following a mutual agreement that there hasn't been enough 'city hopping' together since settling into Bordeaux, this last weekend saw a girls' weekend in Toulouse. Upon our arrival on the Friday evening- after a 2 and half hour train trip congregated in the bar area drinking from novelty-sized cans of 1664 and vin blanc- we popped into the local 'Pizzeria' (pizza fast-food joint by day, suspicious 'gentleman's club by night...) to collect the clefs, clambered the staircase, shot-gunned the beds (subject of hot debate and bribery throughout the weekend- mezzanine for the win!) and headed to the Carrefour across the road for evenings' essentials; pizza, Camembert, part-baked baguettes, rosé. 

The notion of a quiet night-in washed away with the contents of the first bottle and we headed out into the Toulousienne night! Needless to say, being situated parallel to a street lined with an array of clubs and bars served us well from dusk till dawn but haunted us during the (harsh, so harsh!) light of day- I swear by a bolognese crêpe to set anyone right. Without this turning into an entry about alcohol/cheese consumption and subsequent Miley Cyrus sing-a-longs at 4am (albeit, a good 50% of the weekend's contents) we did get up, get out and immerse ourselves in art, architecture, culture and cuisine. 

      

'La ville rose' from a car-park's eye-view / #YOTO

Place Wilson - perfect Lomogram opportunities

A hot topic of discussion throughout the weekend was the difference in architecture between Bordeaux and Toulouse. Bordelaise buildings are formed from limestone which lend a light, sandy colour to the city whereas Toulouse's architecture is a spectrum of warmer, pastel tones due to its use of smaller, red bricks (obviously, my professional opinion). Toulouse is known as 'La Ville Rose' because of this very notion. I liked it.... even through the misty grey of the weather (and the post-vino state). So, in the summer I've decided I'm coming back atcha, Toulouse, to see you in all of your rose radiance!

Cathédrale Saint-Étienne de Toulouse / pastel-palette architecture

So with map in hand, touristy-determination and a strong desire for cultural nourishment we decided to venture to Musée des Augustins. 

Here we were exposed to all matter of artistic mediums and mind-sets; from our favourite canine statues (completed by an installation of our rendition of 'I'm so happy! Oh so happy!'), to all number of nude statues, many ancient stone pillars, two grand halls exhibiting huile sur toile portraits and finally minuscule to massive leather-bound religious scriptures. 

It should be noted that the last provided more entertainment than nourishment- it was the only pay-for-entry installation in the immense museum (so, of course, it was subject to ridicule before we'd even step a foot into it...), it was surrounded by barriers and during our brief tour of the ancient holy literature (great use of colour and quill, it has to be said!) we were more-or-less chased out of the exhibition by the (ridiculous amount of) security swarming around the old books... So, we went back to hang out with our dogs.  

Sunday also saw a miraculous post-party recovery as we sauntered round Jardin des Plantes. It's a fantastic open space with plenty of greenery, a duck house and a number of interesting bridges- so, obviously everything you could want from a public park.  This place is definitely on the 'revisit when the weather is brighter' list. 

Bandstand / The notorious duck house (potential band name right there) / The benched-bridge; a perfect self-timing photo opportunity

So there we have it- two and a half days in Toulouse! And now that the 'Carte Jeune' train ticket has been purchased- there ain't no stopping the train-hopping!

Next stop: Perigueux, Round 2! Watch this space.

P.S. Happy Birthday, Mum! Love, always xx

'Surpris par l'hiver, nus comme les vers'

NEWS FLASH LOYAL BLOG READERS- Finally, I have got my blog-act together to reveal the makings of our secret Yarn Bombing dealings! 

Upon my return from Paris, Collective ‘E’ was prepared for the last phase in our Yarn Bombing escapade- The Grand Unveiling… With ladders, needles, wool and 4 weeks-worth of crocheted and decoratively pom-pom-ed ‘tree dresses’ at the ready we set off into the night.

It took us at least a couple of hours to sort and stitch each garment to their assigned tree. We had a few close calls with the general public- an extremely disorientated man who appeared to have lost his car and was subsequently trying to break into another one (I think both parties in this situation were wanting to be stealth...) and then a few youths passed us after falling out the local (from this experience I can only assume that hitting the hooch is a standard Sunday ritual in St. Macaire) and asked if we’d knitted them with our hands, to which the more bolshy of our clan retorted ‘no, with our feet!’, luckily the lads took it in good spirit and hollered ‘respect!’ instead of a fist/empty bottle/knitting-abuse.

Once all trees were glammed-up we slinked back chez nous, step-ladders underarm for a well-deserved thaw-inducing thésan (one has to suffer for their art) and we mused on the imminent responses from our fellow St. Macarians...

One of our team, Manou, works in the local shop so she got the main buzz- people asked all of the usual ‘How/Why/When?’ but the main question on everyone’s lips was ‘Who is Collective ‘E’?’. Oh the anonymity!

Abre-cadabra!

Our efforts also got us featured in the local paper- 

crochet celebrities, to say the least...

Remember- it's a secret.
Collective E representative, over and out.

'Le véritable voyage de découverte... avoir de nouveaux yeux'

Alongside attempting to learn some French and going to Ocean on a Friday night, during my last two years as a student at Nottingham I have worked part-time at a design agency. Last year, a French girl (hi Elisa!) came to work there for part of her Gap Year- not only could we swap knowledge of the others’ mother tongue but we got on, too (bonus!) 

Elisa was around during my British Council application; choices, interview, paper-work and The Waiting (oh-so necessary capitalisation). I had my heart set on Bordeaux and coincidentally Elisa lives in this very region, in a little village just outside of the town called Périgueux, in the Dordogne countryside.

It only made perfect sense to take the opportunity to go to visit her and see an entirely fresh side of the Bordelaise landscape! So, on the weekend of the 6^th – 8^th December, I hopped on a train and made my way to the East of the South-East. Unbeknown to me at the time, my ticket was taking me to a weekend full of fun, family and firsts.

So, Elisa met me on the train and we headed into the city of Périgueux together- we had takeaway pasta (get on this, England!) and walked around the Russian Christmas market. Our afternoon was topped off with a chocolat viennois (one of the best Year Abroad discoveries) and we headed back into the countryside; as we drove up hills, down tree-arched roads, amongst vast fields we sang along to French radio, it was like a scene out of a teenage coming-of-age film- all too perfect.

The next day we indulged in a gros-matin and ate both breakfast and lunch together as a family- I cannot express how happy I am to be living with Sylvette and that might be why I hadn’t realised until then how much I missed the family dynamic-  it is something special.

I had a vague idea of what the afternoon would consist of- pendant son temps libre, Elisa aime faire l’équitation- so I was quite prepared for what I thought was horse-riding (the boots, the helmet, the saddle, the horse), but I had no idea that it would make me feel the way I did! So, after another movie-like drive around the countryside, we arrived at a ranch on top of a hill. The view as we got out of the car was astounding- the day was gorgeous in itself but the sight of horses and deer in vast fields over-looking (yet more of) the autumnal landscape… It was going to be an afternoon of wonders.

We started by brushing the horses. For those who aren’t horse-savvy (I feel it is acceptable that I count myself a little horse-savvy now…), they like to roll in dirt in the winter to protect themselves from the cold, so it made for a good job. This was unbelievably calming- maybe it was the romantic setting with the autumn light dappling through the leaves (Shakespeare eat your heart out) but I really felt as if I had some kind of affinity with the horse- caring for it and trying to gain an equal trust, it was quite powerful.

 It was then time to take them to the yard… but obviously I had to ‘hop on’ first. It was high. Very high. Suddenly I became very aware that I was not (100%) in control of my own trajectory. But, with a few rounds of the yard, I was surprisingly at ease! It was then time to go, so I followed Elisa out from the yard… only to then to discover that ‘time to go’ meant ‘time to go and further explore the Dordogne countryside by horse-back’.  

I have never done something so terrifying, exhilarating and exciting of equal measure. The day was beautiful, the countryside was magical and the horse-riding was fantastic. I learnt something about myself that afternoon* and I can’t thank Elisa enough for opening my eyes to it!

*I learnt that I look damn fantastic on a horse.

I'm booking my tickets for Round 2, Elisa!