Toulouse is the capital of the Occitanie region of France, a vast geographical area of the southwest that borders Spain and the Mediterranean Sea plus the French regions of Nouvelle-Aquitaine, Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes, and Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur.

The city, called Tolosa, was known to the Romans, but there is evidence that it has been inhabited at least since the Iron Age. There are Roman ruins here visible in some of the buildings, but unlike in Nîmes there are no remaining large structures like temples or arenas from the Roman period.

Toulouse was an important city in the Middle Ages and during the Renaissance, and this is evident in the city centre where many buildings have survived, giving way to the narrow alleys, brick-and-wood structures, and twisting roads that were typical of cities from the Middle Ages.

We took a guided outdoor tour yesterday, offered by the Tourism Office, and covering just one historic neighbourhood of this very fascinating city. Hopefully we will have the chance to return one day to tour other neighbourhoods.

The tour’s focus was on the “hôtels particuliers”, mansions, that dot the city and were built and owned by noble families. Of course, the French Revolution put an end to the aristocracy, and so the hôtels particuliers now house foreign embassies, corporations, and government institutions, none of which are accessible to the general public.

My mind wandered a lot during the tour, so I missed specific details which David had to fill in for me later. I am a terrible student for things I do not understand 😂

One important detail that I missed is that there are several different eras and styles of architecture still in existance in Toulouse, which are each very distinctive. We have a bit of the Romanesque period (11th-12th century), Gothic (13th-16th), Renaissance (16th-17th), and 18th. Plus, naturally, modern day.

Each period is recognizable by certain styles, but a common feature is the use of “foraine” brick, which gives Toulouse a beautiful, very pink appearance.

David and I indulged in a tasting menu dinner at Le Cénacle, a Michelin-starred restaurant near our hotel. As people who very rarely eat at restaurants when we are home, this was a fun and exciting event.

My first impression upon arrival was that the restaurant was extremely quiet. You really could only hear the very low hum of the handful of diners speaking quietly, plus the classical music being played at very low volume. The furnishings in the room certainly helped to control the amount of noise; there was carpeting, heavy drapes, well-upholstered chairs, and padding under the tablecloths. All of this helped to absorb noise, or to minimize it.

I have no expertise at all with respect to extreme fine dining and Michelin stars, apart from knowing that noise levels in the restaurant must be low to earn points in their classification system.

So I have nothing intelligent to say about the food. The menu consisted of three different tasting menus, differing only in the number of courses. There was an option of a glass of wine per course, but since we chose the 7-course menu, this would have amounted to 7 glasses of wine each, and convention says that there are 6 glasses of wine in a standard bottle. Alcohol poisoning was not on my plan for the night, so we chose a single bottle of wine in lieu of the wine pairings.

Actually, we started with apéritifs of kirs vin blanc, as usual. I am really a creature of habit, so I exclusively choose a kir au pêche (white wine with peach liqueur) for apéritif when in France. It’s almost impossible to find crème de pêche in Canada, even in Québec at the SAQ. So when we are in France, I drink enough kir au pêche to satisfy me until the next trip 😆

With the apéritifs, we were served three little “snacks”, which often happens in nicer restaurants here, but which I did not expect at le Cénacle. I guess I thought it was such a fancy place that I had not expected any snack, let alone a free one.

The timing of each course was perfect; nothing came out too quickly that made us feel inundated with food, but neither did they come out too slowly, making us lose our appetites for food or the game.

As we were settling our bill, one of the servers (there were three plus the sommelier, and all of them attended to each table, which kept the service flowing for all) asked where I was from. I got the sense that she had been waiting all evening to ask me this, which happens frequently to me as a filipina when I am spotted by other filipinas. I usually hate this question, except when it comes from another non-white person, because I instantly recognize it as a need for connection, a recognition that we are both minorities in a foreign territory. Everyone needs to feel connected, and I often wonder if the person asking me the question is feeling lonely or displaced, and sees in my brown face something familiar or comforting.

We discovered that we were both from the Philippines, Manila in particular, me having immigrated as a toddler to Canada with my family, and she having moved to Toulouse with her French husband whom she met while they were both working in Dubai.

I wondered, as we were both speaking accented French, what the odds were that two displaced filipinas born in the Philippines could stumble into one another in France and speak this language foreign to both?!

Her French was lovely, and I was surprised to learn she had only started learning it two years ago. She said that she and her husband spoke English at home, and that she took French lessons plus spoke French at work as no one spoke English.

I shared with her that I had started learning French in elementary school, 75 minutes per day from kindergarten through grade 6, then in French immersion through middle and high school, about 50% of my courses. All of that French education, and yet, I explained, dumbfounded, my French is still terrible 😂. I hear and read it better than I speak it, and my speech is often riddled with errors that I catch and correct in real time. It’s not easy for someone who talks a lot in general.

Mercifully, this lovely woman let me off the hook by admitting that total immersion has been more helpful for her in learning French than anything else.

I suppose that means that I must move to France, in the interest of perfecting my French. It would be the right thing to do, non??

Thank you for reading!