Toulouse, France - 9-26-14

Back home now. It’s been two weeks since the last update and I don’t know where to start other than to say I love Toulouse. J’aime Toulouse.

I did five nights in the beautiful, old city (pop. 450-thousand) in the southwest corner of France. My friend Jacques – who I met at Woodsist Fest 2012 – was my host with the most. He went all-out to provide the complete inside Toulouse experience from start to end with help from his many friends who were unbelievably gracious, warm and spirited as my time there unfolded.

I had only just arrived in Toulouse and I found myself seated at one of several tables pushed together outside a busy cafe near Jacques’ apartment. There were 4 then 8 then 12 of us sitting there. Beer and wine were consumed at a good clip. Seems like most everybody smokes. Many create their own cigs with tobacco from a pouch, inserting a small filter just before commencing the pinch and roll. Every so often the server at the cafe would bring out a plate of pate, olives, cheese. And bread. Always with the bread. The long French roll is omnipresent – sticking out of briefcases, bike baskets and tucked under arms wherever you go.

But back to this opening night reception. It set an unexpected tone for my visit that I ended up really enjoying. I was almost constantly surrounded during waking hours by friends of Jacques. Night one was kind of overwhelming at the beginning. The basic French words and phrases I hoped would come in handy went blank from my slate when individuals approached to exchange introductions. Soon it was apparent to the Toulousains that my French was almost non-existent. Most of Jacques’ friends at the table that night carried on in their native tongue. I listened. What had I got myself into?

I have so much to say – so much to ask – so much to learn. And on that first night for a few hours – I thought I faced a difficult time as it related to interaction. Except with Jacques – who speaks perfect English – and was constantly translating for me. He also helped me conduct business when need be. But then, later that night when the party moved from the café to Chez Jacques, several of the people from earlier that night came forward to speak with me in English. Whew. What a relief. I was being bailed out big time for failing to put more effort into my French language readiness.

I ended that first night feeling like I had a chance for conversation – albeit almost all of it in English. At the same time, I needed to be greatly appreciative of the effort made by the Toulousains.

Night two was another really fun night. The active local arts collective La chatte a la voisine (comprised of Jacques and his friends) sold beer, wine and salade in the beautiful outdoor courtyard at L’Ecole des Beaux-Arts for a dance party attended mainly by art school students (although it was open to the public). I got to meet more of Jacques’ friends and drank on the house. Money raised from the concession sales helps La chatte stage rock shows in Toulouse which enjoys kind of a prime geographical spot between Paris and Barcelona for bands touring Europe by vehicle. DJ Maxwell played Beat Happening‘s “Indian Summer” – in part to pay homage to the brilliant string of sunny and warm afternoons Toulouse was enjoying while I was there. The DJ trio Sandy Sandals followed with a rousing set. A little after 11:30 PM, the scene shifted to Moloko, a nearby bar where Jacques’ friend Julien (aka 604) was the DJ. The vibe was great. The music was great. And next thing I know, it’s 2 AM and the bartender is throwing chipped ice at the patrons telling everybody to leave. Closing time. The after-party on this night was at Julien’s small apartment. Twenty or so people crammed into his beautiful studio waiting for a middle-of-the-night liquor delivery from an unmarked sedan that would pull up as Jacques and I exited. An after, after-party, we’re told, occurred after that.

On my third night in Toulouse, we took a light rail train out to Hippodrome de Toulouse for a full card of live harness racing (de trot). They run flat racing at this track too but not while I was there so this was the next best thing. In an effort to draw a crowd, the track added a post-card fireworks show and between-race medieval times-themed presentations with knight-types doing stunts on horseback. This promotion drew a big crowd of families larger than the concession stands could handle. It was kind of a mess when we first got there and I was worried that this evening at the track would turn into a dud given the difficulty in getting a beer. But as proven at US tracks time and again, you can’t beat fun at the old race track no matter how bad the track fails to back their promotional efforts with proper staffing.

Once the medieval times stuff was over – and the bulk of families exited given the late hour – the concession stands became manageable and we had a blast. Admission to the track was free. There were seven races on the card. We missed the first two but bet on the rest. There was no infield tote board but the race call was crisply delivered via the PA system. Most of us were playing 5 euro win bets. When an entrant broke stride, a second voice interrupted the track announcer to shout out the DQ. It was funny. The saucisse de Toulouse (sausage of Toulouse) served on a fresh roll was incredible. The paddock area was beautiful. An Airbus “Beluga” arrival passed overhead and the new A350 descended over the track a short time later. Airbus has its home base in Toulouse and is the city’s largest employer.

The double-cheek kiss is real. And great. I had forgotten this was French tradition until I was approached with this opportunity by all comers at the opening night get-together. After a few near collisions of the head, I learned a few days in that left-cheek-to-left-cheek is the way to start. And zero weirdness on the same gender double-cheek. It’s very routine and very cool.

Many people on my visit asked me if I had ever been to France before. “Yes, I went to Paris for a couple nights about ten years ago,” I said to the question. The response from the Toulousains was quick and uniform: “You haven’t been to France, then.”

In reality, of course, Paris very much is France but to the proud residents of Toulouse – the point is that the country boasts so much more in the way of food, culture, geography, etc. outside of the capital.

On Saturday (27 Sep – day 4), we explored the vast open market opportunities throughout the city. One section of town was known for sale of black market cigs. The leaf lettuce of all types is unlike anywhere I’ve seen. Really lush. Cheese of course is insane. Sausage. Fish. I saw but did not taste the merlut – which is a yellow-fleshed fish with big teeth and a mean look. I ate a lot of great food throughout. The quiche. The croissants. Yogurt. I had a great four-course lunch at Jacques’ favorite sit-down restaurant. A white fish filet with a cheezy, bread-crumb topping, great soup and salad and a crazy ice-cream dessert creation all served with a carafe of red wine. I think it was 13 euros. The French version of TVG was on in the background. The pace of the meal was leisurely and the restaurant intentionally sat people next to people they didn’t know to invite collaboration. Given its proximity to northern Africa, there’s a real cultural accent from Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria. You see it as you wander the city. My final lunch there was a great couscous meal at a real-deal Moroccan place picked out by Marine.

Paris SG was in town to play FC Toulouse in Ligue 1 action on that Saturday. We opted to watch it with a big group of guys at a bar. That was really fun. 1-1 was the final. We thought about attending the match in person but tickets were kinda pricey. The bar had a legit gameday vibe so we were better off anyway. Rising striker Wissam Ben Yedder had another goal for Toulouse which sits mid-pack in the league standings. It’s expected Ben Yedder will sign on with a more prominent club next season as seems to be the case with most emerging talent from Toulouse.

Kevin Morby - La Maison Drole - Toulouse, France - 9-28-14

My final full day in Toulouse was pretty special. Purely by chance, Kevin Morby’s Euro tour made a stop in Toulouse on Sunday, September 28. My visit to Toulouse had been planned for almost a year and a gap in the Morby schedule conveniently fell between shows in Strasbourg and Barcelona. La Chatte booked the gig at La Maison Drole which serves as sort of a hub or gathering point for many of the friends who comprise La Chatte. Elsa and Koy do all of the cooking at Maison Drole with support from Koy’s boyfriend Alex. It’s a really cool place. The cellar/basement space at Maison Drole was the scene for the sold-out show. It was only Morby and drummer Justin Sullivan on this tour. There was no bass player which both Morby and Sullivan said required elevated musicianship and a corresponding sense of gratification as they pulled it off during the month-long string of dates.

The highlight of the 60-minute set in Toulouse came when Morby unfurled a wonderful cover of Michael Hurley’s “Blue Driver.” It sounded so good. A lack of ventilation made it very hot in the room as the show went on. Morby blamed the heat on an out-of-tune sound from his guitar as he played the finale. He paused about one-third into “Wild Side” to get back in tune and then started again from the beginning. Earlier there was a Bill Fay cover and yet another evolving and wonderful version of All of My Life. Parade sounded great. After the show was over – and the crowd had filed out – Elsa, Koy and Alex served dinner to the band and invited friends. It was really nice. The banoffee was the big hit. So good. It’s one of Maison Drole’s top specialties. Banana pie done only as Koy and Elsa know how.

The next morning before bidding adieu to Toulouse, we had a little breakfast at Chez Jacques with Kevin, Justin and Bram. Since I couldn’t make it all the way back to New York in one day from Toulouse, I took an Easy Jet flight out of Toulouse to Brussels on Monday and spent that night in Antwerp.

Bram is from Antwerp and had earlier encouraged me to visit there. I was really glad I got to see it despite the limited time. An easy half-hour train ride from Brussels airport, I got a cheap room near Antwerp’s train station. After check-in, I started wandering. My first stop was at Boer van Tienan for a Westmalle Tripel. The bartender called it “a triple.” And yeah, if Bud is a single – then this more complex brew is a triple for sure.

Antwerpen-Centraal (train station) - 9-9-14

I had a De Konnick at De Reiger after that. I wasn’t real sure where I was in relation to the places Bram had touted so the bartender pointed me to the bus that would take me to Grote Market. A friendly bar schnauzer patrolled the pub and I walked out debating whether I should go back to the hotel and call it a night – or try to find at least one of the joints Bram had touted.

Not knowing if and when I’d be able to get back to Antwerp, I decided to march on. The bus took me to the city center where the intense, impressive de Kathedraal is surrounded by bars and restaurants. I found Bram’s tout Bar Deco soon after reaching the cathedral area. I asked Pete the bartender for help on which Belgian beer I should try. “I don’t drink beer,” he said with a grin. I ordered a La Chouffe. As the evening wore on, Pete offered me cheese. He played jazz and blues heavy on the sax. It was a great old bar and Pete’s personality made the place special.

I got up real early the next day to catch a train from Antwerp to Brussels airport. It went down to the wire but I ended up making a 10 AM flight to Newark on United. In all, I had four flights on this trip and all four went really well. Not knowing much about Easy Jet going in, I was impressed by the way they operated – at least from my limited view. I already knew of Europe’s great public transit – and my interaction with it on this trip only solidified my awe.

I didn’t take many pictures because I was having so much fun. I probably left out some detail here too. But this was the best trip I’ve ever taken by far. It’s hard to precisely describe my feelings about what I experienced but it was very exciting and very intense. And I’m not just feeling this in retrospect as can sometimes be the case post-trip. In the moment – at the time – the whole Toulouse portion of the trip really blew me away. I want to go back there but with a better handle on the language.

I’d really like to thank Jacques for putting me up and showing me around. Also to his friends for their great warmth and hospitality – Merci Beaucoup: Melanie, Elsa, Julien (604), Sebastian, Marine, Luc, Vincent, Franck, Koy, Alex, Jean and Regis.

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