Thursday, November 10, 2016
Bob and Angus head down to Toulouse. At this chilly time of the morning the pavement cafes in the centre of town are almost empty. In the evening they're packed solid with students and locals. We find a seat under a ferocious gas heater. Bob is brought a bowl of water. He shares the 'curvy' ends from my croissant.
Toulouse is a city of fountains. This small delicate one by the GANT store built in the shape of a Roman monument. A tomb perhaps ? Is the top a replica or the original ? No signs to explain its purpose or why its located where it is. Perhaps the basin it stands on is Roman ? Bob is unimpressed.
A rather stylish hour glass in a shop window. A whimsical Christmas gift for 'The Font' or something so impractical it would be broken within a week ? We promise the shop lady we'll think about it.
Another square. Another fountain. Behind it a rather anonymous red brick building has been gentrified with white plaster statuary.
A Millefeuille cake attracts the dog owners attention. Carrying a cake while navigating a lively and highly inquisitive PON through busy city streets is asking for trouble. Perhaps we'll pick one up the next time.
Sophie is 'miffed' to discover her brother has been gallivanting in the city while she's been left at home watching the leaves fall. Less than two weeks to the next trip to the hospital. She is one feisty and very impatient lady.
A national holiday tomorrow. The mayor shows up to borrow the step ladder so that he can put out the flags on the war memorial. The swaying ( and now rather alarmingly tilting ) Jesus continues to be a matter of concern for the village council. None of the local builders has been able to remedy the slump. Money may need to be spent on a professional firm .
So passes another day in deepest,deepest France profonde.