Aaah France. The home of Omlette du fromage, The Little Prince, Amelie Poulain and in my opinion the birthplace of Idio-syncrasy. I cross the boarder via the University town of Toulouse also known as 'La Ville Rose' because of the pink terracotta complexion of locally made clay bricks. In retrospect, travelling through Spain on my lonesome was probably one of the most challenging things I have ever done in my life and their is a mild sense of relief to be in a country where I can ask for directions and undersstand the response.
I walked the streets of Toulouse early in the morning waiting for places to open up and found myself a comfy spot on a bench in pretty park. But I was not alone, there were several people talking jovially and walking tehir dogs at this unsuspecting hour. At a second glance I notice that none of these people are well dressed and appear to be armed with beers for breakfast. It was then that I remeber a peculiar French Law I had discovered on my previous trip to France in 2003. Basically, the French governement stipulates that if a Hobo/Bum/Street person has a dog they cannot be put into jail or detained because the governement doesn't want to be responsible for putting down the dogs. The Result - scores of homeless people with fierce german shepherds who do their dirty business on the streets of its quaint town and give the air of a touch of Mumbai.
The intention of my stay in Toulouse was actually to head to the nearby town of Alby in which is the birthplace of one of my all time favourite French Impressionist painters - Henri de Toulouse Lautrec. Lautrec was the sickly dwarf son of a French aristocrat who found comfort and sympathy in the arms and Beds of Parisian brothels such as the famed Moulin Rouge. As a result, unlike his contemporaries, the subject of his work for most of his life would be prostitutes and the working class. But as things things go there would be no time to head to Alby to the grand Lautrec musuem because of the bus delay and my prebooked flight that leaves for Paris that afternoon. So instead my visit would consist of lunch with a friend and things left undone for later trips.
It was an interesting time to be in France, two days after the presedential elections, with the Right Wing Politician Sarkozy as President Elect and hundreds of Frenchman up in arms, burning six hundred cars in protest. And so it was that Steff and myself found ourselves in a political discussion about the past, present and future of the European reality. Steff is a Civil Engineer who's sense of history is equipped with chronological precision. She explained to me that the origin of French words in English began in the English Court through the inclusion of French royalty in the Aristocratic circles through marriage. It was a brief yet enlightening time and so I found myself a little sad to leave, but yet still eager and excited for the week in Paris that awaited ahead.
