After Madrid, I headed over to Toulouse. It’s called the Pink City because of the colour that shines from the setting sun on the red bricks on many of the old buildings. I had a suspicion that I would find something beautiful here.

The subway is one of the cleanest I’ve seen.

The town is lovely. It’s about 200,000 in population.

You can drink the tap water here! There are fountains set up throughout the city, however finding a public restroom can be difficult as in many other European cities.  

There are old time carousels near the center of the city! 

The Garonne river cuts through Toulouse. There are lovely river walks on either side. I love that people actually come out and hang out in the parks all the time, eating, smoking, drinking wine, reading. Some people even look you in the eye and say hello and good day. 

My first couchsurfing host was John-Paul. I always like staying with locals when I travel. During my time there I explored the city. I visited the various gardens near the centre. 

I visited this one cafe called Ash. They ran out if the gluten free option so I got the vegetable pie instead. Everything on the plate broke some kind of dietary restriction I was on but I ate it anyway. Two bites into the pie, I was savoring this beautiful moment. It represented an allowance of some kind. Memories of my recent past, dealing with my dietary intolerances and the frustration/isolation/sadness that came with it, came flooding into my body, mind, eyes, and throat. It was a reflection of the debilitation I lived with. A picture of my aunt Hopie, who suffers from a major physical debilitation, flashed in my mind. I was getting choked up. I felt like a baseball was in my throat, the sensation you might get when you are at the peak of some emotional turmoil  that desperately needs to be voiced. But the only other people around were the French speaking waitress and the couple at the next table. I suppose I could have yelped out in my teary eyed state, “This pie is so good” but I’m sure it wouldn’t have been anything the waitress hadn’t already heard. The sensation past. I was genuinely happy to be alive.

I’m happy to report that I didn’t have any negative repercussions due to that meal! The following days, I was having on average one pastry a day without consequences. It was like a miracle. One day I got particularly ambitious and had a Nutella crepe, that was pushing the boundary a bit.

One day I went to a contact improv jam. It’s been ages since I’ve been to one. I miss physical dialogues. I met Dominique there. After, we ate by the river and he showed me some places in town. There was a musical event happening by the river. 

The next day I got a new host, Georges, from Lebanon. I introduced him to Dominique and we went to a Shambhala meditation meet up. It was nice to be amongst the Sangha again. 

I love it here.