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Writer's pictureSean Weaver

Twenty-four hours in Toulouse


women sitting on a river bank overlooking a historic building and ferris wheel
Prairie des Filtres, Toulouse, France

Twenty-four hours is not nearly enough time to spend in Toulouse, France, but an honest effort can be made with a dose of stamina and a sturdy pair of shoes. Fortunately, one only needs a fraction of that time to fall in love with the city’s relaxed pace, welcoming attitude, and captivating historic architecture.


 With the goal of seeing as much as we could in one day, Corie and I started with a morning walk along the Prairie des Filtres, a grassy picnic spot bordering the Garonne River near the Pont Neuf, a seventeenth-century stone bridge and the city’s most photographed site. Later that evening, congregations of people would fill the park, claiming spaces along the water to watch the sun set while sipping glasses of wine and beer.


 It didn’t take long for Toulouse to become our favorite place to see this year. The central part of France’s fourth-largest city is one of the most pedestrian-friendly places we have visited with a well thought out bike lane system that guides commuters efficiently through the city. While most urban areas are designed for cars, Toulouse is designed for humans.


 Our first stop was the Basilica Notre-Dame de la Daurade, an 18th-century church I will feature in more detail in next week’s newsletter.


 We made our way through narrow, colorful streets, making our way to the Saint-Étienne Cathedral, a church whose construction began in the early 13th century. From the outside, the structure looks like it was designed by a committee, merging Romanesque and Gothic styles, but the contrast creates something that feels right for the city. 


Like most of the city’s historic buildings, Saint-Étienne was constructed out of brick. While considered aesthetically inferior and less costly alternative to stone, the city later took pride in its brick construction, earning it the nickname, the Pink City, inspired by the glowing hues the buildings take at sunrise and sunset.


 As we made our way through the cathedral’s chapels, morning light filtered through the stained-glass windows, creating colorful bursts of light on the white marble walls.


 Our twenty-four hours was off to an amazing start, and a break was in order. No trip to any city in France would be complete without time spent in one of the many cafes, and we found a cozy, welcoming one a couple blocks from the cathedral.


If it wasn’t for Corie’s memory of high school French, we would have had less of an idea of what we ordered than we actually did. Unlike the cities we have been to this year, English isn’t widely spoken in Toulouse. The French are, understandably, very proud of their language and I had the impression they didn’t see any reason to change course.


 Outside the café, construction crews worked on building one of the city’s new subway stops, a reminder that even in a picturesque and historic city like Toulouse, progress is a constant driving force.


 While it’s expected that people will linger over a cup of freshly brewed espresso, Corie and I didn’t have that luxury. A short stay with so much to see doesn’t lend itself to dawdling over a cup of coffee discussing literature and philosophy. We had an agenda, and our next stop was the Capitole, the city’s neoclassical town hall.


 Ascending an elegant stairway, we arrived in an opulent hall adorned with paintings of major events in the city’s history and day-to-day life along the Garonne River, a must see for any art lover visiting the city.


 After two more museums, three more churches, and a lot of walking, circling back to the Prairie des Filtres, our day ended back in our apartment, up six flights of wood and brick stairs, with a selection of French cheese for dinner. The next day, we would be on our way to the southern French countryside for a relaxing week that would bring new adventures.



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