Foreign Parts

On the Road: Toulouse

Relaxing on the banks of the River Garonne.

Cloudless blue skies, pink-orange brick, a scruffy university student here and there — you must be in Toulouse.

Toulouse is known throughout France as "La Ville Rose" for its sunset-colored brick buildings that are unique in the country. Wander around the gorgeous city center for a while and you'll see glimpses of other brick-built places in the world — Belgium or Britain or New Orleans.  But really, you could not be anyplace but Toulouse.  The strong sunlight bouncing off the hot bricks; the lively, tree-shaded squares; the tapas bars and the rugby shirts all tell you that you are in southwestern France, home of the Stade Toulousain rugby club and less than a two hours' drive from the Spanish border.

Early morning on Place Saint-Georges, waiting for la foule (the masses) to arrive.

The city is also known for its university population — the third largest in France, with over 110,000 students.  This keeps Toulouse youthful, while the town's biggest employer, Airbus, keeps it well-off.  Evidence of the wealth of les Toulousains is everywhere — in the boutiques along the chic Rue de la Pomme, in the high quality of ingredients at the covered market Victor Hugo and in the fabulous apartments overlooking the banks of the Garonne.

I spent a fair amount of my time in the city rubber-necking at the winsome balconies of the prettier homes.  Some of the best were found around the Carmes district and along the sun-dappled walkway that leads to the Jardin des Plantes.

Which one would you live in?

Toulouse is definitely a wonderland for fans of home design and architecture, but it is also a treasure-trove for historians. The university dates from 1229, the Basilica Saint-Sernin from 1080 and — to quote Paul Simon — there are literally "angels in the architecture."  

Gothic guardians against a sunny sky.

An angel conducts the organist at Saint-Sernin.

My favorite aspect of Toulouse, however, is its geographic location — half-way between the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, and nestled along the River Garonne, the Canal du Midi and the jaw-droppingly picturesque Canal de Brienne. 

In an hour and a half, a Toulousain could be swimming in the Mediterranean.  In a few hours, he or she can ski the slopes of Andorra or surf the waves of Biarritz on the Atlantic Coast. And on those weekends when the poor Toulousain is stuck in town?  Well, there's always jogging along the canals or lounging on the riverbank . . . 

Sunday morning on the Canal de Brienne.

À AIMER: Humor in Despair

One of the French 99% speaks.

Walking through the 9th arrondissement the other day, I came across this little gem on the pavement.  The caption reads: "Borrow, Consume, Work, Die."  From the Wall Street protesters to the original indignados in Madrid's Puerto del Sol to les indignés (indignants) in France, it seems that regular people the world over are thinking the same thing.  Of course, in France and Spain, les indignés get full health coverage in exchange for their tax payments . . .   

À DÉTESTER: Fashion Week

Are we having fun yet?  An unedited view of fashion week.

Last week, I watched "Bill Cunningham New York," the documentary on New York Times photographer and style junkie Bill Cunningham.  The 80-something photographer's zeal for style is truly uplifting — he celebrates everything that is fun and wonderful about fashion without being a pain in the you-know-what.

During last week's défilés (fashion shows) in Paris, I couldn't help but notice the contrast to Mr. Cunningham's humble and relaxed approach to fashion to that of certain stylephiles. Maybe it's just me, but it seems that fashion week has become more populated with people who are hell-bent on getting their pictures taken, whether they are up-and-coming celebrities or princesses whose clothing budgets surpass the transportation budgets of their kingdoms.  Even some bloggers appear more interested in having their own pictures taken than in taking pictures of others.

One can always tell who's playing this look-at-me game by what they are wearing.  A see-though ball gown at 10:30 a.m.?  That screams, "TAKE MY PICTURE, I'M IMPORTANT!" and it nearly always works.  Another ploy is to wear enough makeup to be seen from across the Tuileries.  A photo-shoot ready face, especially a pretty photo-shoot ready face, is very likely to be photographed over others.  Of course, The Entrance matters too: it is essential to arrive late, just before the shows start, so that everyone will take notice of you.  If your press agent can't swing that, be certain that your hired walker/handler guides you into the défilé carefully, giving you a wide berth so that there will be no chance of you blending into the crowd.  Blending in is bad.  Standing out is good. Repeat that three times.  

And remember that while you're standing out, people are looking, so keep that expression of a queen having her portrait painted plastered on your face.  When the photographers come to you, smile graciously as if you didn't really expect the attention.  And if, God forbid, the photographers ignore you and shoot your neighbor instead?  Hide your displeasure; try not to scowl.  Remember, the world is watching.  Just as you wanted it to.