un petit séjour a Toulouse

Toulouse is becoming one of my favourite little European destinations.  The Franco-Spanish atmosphere, warm climate and cutesy little back streets are just so charming.  We arrived on a Saturday night in August, and the whole town was out to play.  The bars lining the Capitole were a-buzz with the young Français drinking bottles of wine and draught beer (funnily enough the French don't seem to go for cocktails or shots) and singing to songs I'd never heard of.  Myself, the Captain, First Officer and two other crew members ventured out into the balmy summer evening for a drink and were seated on the terrace facing the grand Capitole de Toulouse.

Capitole de Toulouse

We ended up staying out til 2am, dancing a little on the tiny dancefloor, getting propositioned in French and chatting over bottles of Sauvingon Blanc before tipsily trying to navigate the windy streets back to the hotel, dodging the kids zipping around on vespas...it's always so pleasant when you have a fun flight crew!

The next morning, a little worse for wear, we headed into town for breakfast.  Again we chose a cafe on the Capitole and enjoyed a very French breakfast of bacon and eggs, ha.  We did supplement it with croissants, but when hungover the only thing for it is a good old fry up.  The residents of Toulouse seemed to have the same idea.  I love European cafe culture.  Families treated themselves to breakfast and noisy chatter, couples fed each other fresh fruit, lone diners sipped cappuccinos and read the paper.  The atmosphere was lively but relaxed and leisurely.  In this part of the world they respect the reverence of Sunday.  No one had work, everyone took their time to enjoy the freshly squeezed orange juice, basking in the Mediterranean sunshine.  It's exactly how I'd like to live.

Kyle standing by the busy morning cafes on the Capitole

As it was Sunday, the bells of the Cathédrale Saint-Étienne were ringing.  We browsed the huge market below it for a while (I bought buttons!) before exploring inside.  For a 13th Century building, the sheer geometry and artwork of the cathedral were breathtaking.  Labourers had clearly devoted their entire lives to create such an architectural masterpiece, a testament to their reverence of God. 

Of course, soon it was time to stop for a petit dejeuner, and if there's one place you simply MUST go if you visit Toulouse, it's the Flowers Cafe in Place Roger Salengro.  Not just because you sit on a terrace beside a softly trickling fountain...

...but the food, oh the food.  Their menu is small but it changes frequently, and I believe a smaller menu often translates to better quality dishes. I had mille feuille of mozzarella and tomatoes with mini toasts and tapenade, the others had steak sandwich and salmon salad.  They were presented as if they were gourmet dishes from a five star restaurant, and we were given a complimentary basket of fresh baguette.  We each had a dessert from their onsite patisserie (tarte tatin, chocolate mousse, raspberry-dark chocolate torte) and a cappuccino.  It satiated completely, and for such an elegant lunch at a clearly popular restaurant I expected to fork out quite a few of my euros for it.  So I was shocked when the bill came to twelve euros each.  Definitely recommended.

oh la la...a quick stop in Paris

I always love getting a trip to Paris on my roster.  It's so close to home and yet it's somewhere I never go.  Luckily I have a Parisian friend who is always happy to meet up for lunch and show me around, and I tell you, meeting up in a city with a native is the best.  You feel like you're one of the locals, eating where they eat, shopping where they shop (apparently, shopping on the Champs-Élysées is trés passé and is simply where the tourists go). Unfortunately my colleagues often frequent the same 'haunts'; on this particular occasion the captain offered to meet up at the local Irish pub (of all places!) followed by dinner at Flunch (on retelling this to my boyfriend who happens to be French, he visibly recoiled in disgust - apparently 'eating at Flunch is like jetting to the Caribbean and swimming in an indoor pool').  No thank you!

Fortunately for me my Parisian friend, Louison, has much more taste.  Last time we met up we had a coffee at the famous Cafe de Flore - it's claim to fame being the frequent haunt of 20th Century philosophers and writers - and lunch at L'Industrie near St Germain which had fabulous onglets de boeuf, although she had a rather questionable dish called boudin noir which I believe is a sausage shaped mass of congealed pig blood.  Mmm.  I tried a little, but it was the same as when I tried steak tartare in Strasbourg last year - my tongue was OK with it, but my brain couldn't shake the disgusting idea that I was eating cold, raw meat and wouldn't let me enjoy it.  Sorry, I tried, but I think it's degueulasse.

This time we met at a bistro with her friend Julia, who's one of those amazing people who can speak five languages fluently, and of whom I will be eternally jealous.  We shared a bottle of red - bien sur - but Louison had to rush off to see a concert with her dad.  Julia and I had got on like a house on fire so we decided to hang out that afternoon.  She showed me her chic Parisian apartment which, although small, had a  gorgeous view of the city below - so envious.  Her friend Romain popped over and we decided to go out to a bar that evening in Pigalle - the arty yet seedy district of Paris.

On the way I had a little 'Marilyn Monroe' moment outside the Moulin Rouge...as you do.

And my head is aflame!

Julia and Romain

Now, I was expecting the typical studenty bar, the type I used to go to in Leeds.  It certainly looked like one, a small establishment buzzing with young people.  But on closer inspection the chalky words on the blackboards weren't offering 'pound a pint' or 'woo woos', but a rather diverse selection of wines and beers. And not just the grapes, but their regions too.  In a STUDENT bar.  I don't think any of us cared, or even knew about wine regions at uni, as long as the booze got us sufficiently sloshed.  I was impressed.

As we all sat around a tiny table and I was duly introduced to some friends of theirs, Romain ordered a petit plat, which he said was a little snack to have with our drinks.  I was expecting some peanuts, McCoys, or perhaps a dish of the French equivalent of Tyrrell's Handmade Crisps, seeing as this place was a little classier than your average student bar.  No, we were presented with this:

A mini fromagerie and charcuterie, with a little basket of fresh, warm baguette.  I was visibly astounded; it all tasted sensational.  Romain simply shrugged.  'C'est normal', he said indifferently, 'It is to compliment our wine.'  Bloody hell, I thought, the Parisians, even students on a budget, really do know how to live.

Seaworld in San Diego

Now, usually when I visit a foreign city I like to just meander around, people watch etc.  But occasionally you'll have a crew that are organised and have a day out planned.  On this particular trip to San Diego the whispers around the aircraft on the way over was a trip to 'Seaworld', you know, the infamous Seaworld where the whale killed someone a few years ago?  Of course, I was game.

So, after flashing our crew IDs for a discount entry pass (those IDs are like gold dust sometimes!) we entered the park.  I'll take you on a little photo tour...

First, the polar bear enclosure.  There is nothing I wanted more than to be snuggled by this big fluffy bear.  If I'd have gone in there it probably wouldn't have been a 'snuggle' in the end but, tempting nonetheless.

Just chillin'.  What a show off.

Ah yes, the seal show.  Very entertaining and certainly impressive, when you get over the fact that the poor things spend their entire lives, day in, day out, performing for noisy tourists in exchange for little treats tossed by their overly enthusiastic trainers.  Despite their intelligence (well, the ability to respond to operant conditioning and thus perform the way they do) I only hope they don't have the capacity for such abstract thought that they wonder about life outside their enclosure in the wild, and resent their gilded prison.  Really, it's no wonder that whale attacked its trainer a few years ago.  Still, this is all rather deep and existential for a fun day out at a family park, I'm sure the seals and whales are very happy in their cosy little enclosure and think nothing of it.  And the show is very good.

The great SHAMU came next, and again, very impressive stunts.  I did capture a few videos but unfortunately I can't upload them here.  I'm sure there are many on YouTube.

Word of advice: If you are wearing jeans, white clothing or any fabric not water friendly, NEVER sit in the Soak Zone.  Unless you actually want a second shower that day.

I didn't think we'd get this wet...

So, after a good soaking at the whale show, I was grumpily squelching around, walking like Bruce Wayne in an attempt to dry out my jean-clad legs.  It felt utterly horrible so we caught a taxi home.  Next time, I would  of course dress more appropriately.  All in all, I would check out Seaworld if you have a free day in San Diego and fancy some wet hair and squelchy jeans :P, but in all honesty, good family fun.

beat the jet-lag

I recently found this infographic on ebookers which I thought was quite informative for the insomniac travellers among us!