Toulouse and the Curious Case of the Missing Croissant
okay, so toulouse. it’s…a lot. i landed yesterday, completely wrecked from a red-eye out of berlin (don’t even ask about the guy who tried to explain his taxidermy hobby to me), and honestly, i’m still operating on about three hours of sleep and a questionable amount of espresso.
first impressions? *brick. so much brick. and canals. like, a surprising amount of canals. it’s kinda like venice, but…less gondolas, more scooters whizzing by at terrifying speeds. i swear, i nearly became a hood ornament.
i just checked and it’s…a bit damp, actually. thirteen point five eight degrees, which feels like twelve point eight seven, apparently. the air’s thick enough to chew, seventy-two percent humidity, and the pressure’s all wonky. it’s the kind of weather that makes your hair frizz and your existential dread bloom.
my airbnb is in this really old building, all creaky floors and peeling wallpaper. the walls are paper thin, which means i’ve already learned way too much about my neighbor’s questionable taste in polka music. if you’re looking for something a little more upscale, check out some options on TripAdvisor. i’m aiming for “authentically gritty,” though.
so, the croissant situation. i went to this bakery everyone raved about - Boulangerie Pistache, i think? - and they were out. out of croissants. at nine in the morning. apparently, it’s a regular occurrence. someone told me that the baker has a secret croissant-making schedule based on the phases of the moon. honestly, i wouldn’t put it past him. i ended up with a pain au chocolat, which was fine, but it wasn’t the same. it just wasn’t.
spent the afternoon wandering around the Place du Capitole. it’s…grand. very grand. lots of statues and pigeons. i overheard a tour guide telling someone that the pigeons are actually trained spies for the french government. i’m choosing to believe it. i also stumbled upon this amazing little vintage shop, La Friperie, crammed full of treasures. i scored a ridiculously oversized denim jacket for like, ten euros. score! you can find more vintage shops listed on Yelp.
“apparently, the best steak frites in town is at Le Bistrot des Remparts, but you have to know the secret handshake.”
that’s what the bartender at this tiny wine bar told me. a secret handshake. i’m seriously considering learning it. i also heard that the market at Victor Hugo is insane, but you have to go early to avoid the crowds. i’m planning a raid tomorrow.
my neighbors seem to be mostly students and old ladies who judge your life choices from their balconies. if you get bored, montauban and albi* are just a short train ride away. i’m thinking of taking a day trip to albi, apparently it’s got this incredible cathedral. you can find more info on France Voyage.
“don’t trust anyone who offers you a free pastis. it’s a trap.”
that’s what a very drunk man warned me outside a bar. i’m taking that advice to heart.
overall? toulouse is…chaotic. charmingly chaotic. i’m exhausted, slightly confused, and desperately in need of a croissant. but i think i’m starting to fall for this place. i’ll keep you posted. maybe i’ll even learn the secret handshake. check out this local forum for more tips: Toulouse Expat.
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- https://votoris.com/post/rochester-taxes-a-consultants-exhausted-guide-to-not-getting-audited
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