Wandering in Toulouse

Although it is France’s fourth-largest city (after Paris, Marseilles and Lyon) Toulouse seems to be less prominent than the others: almost nobody mentioned it to us before arriving here a couple of days ago. However, we have thoroughly enjoyed wandering the streets of this stylish city, and enjoyed the wonderful hospitality of our host, Jean-Jacques Dahan.

Our wandering begin in the massive Place du Capitole, a huge rectangular space in the middle of the city, named after the large Capitole building shown above. The Capitole houses the government of Toulouse, and so is a location for people to be married and for other important administrative affairs to take place. As you can see from the photo, we did not visit Toulouse on the best of days, with steady drizzle and no sign of the sun; but it was not hard to imagine the square packed with people enjoying the alfresco dining possibilities and soaking up the atmosphere of this ancient area.

Although the Capitole building looks impressive from outside, the inside is strikingly – and unexpectedly – lovely. The impressive and exuberant stairway was the first surprise:

Up the stairway we entered a room with some wonderful and large impressionist paintings by local painter Henri Martin, of whom I had not previously heard. This one was my favourite, and I marvelled at how the painter could capture light so beautifully with what looked up close like a mess of brushstrokes and colours. This is the defining feature of impressionism, of course, but the talent of the painter always surprises me.

Following the hall of paintings, we entered the main hall – an extraordinary and highly decorated space, reminiscent of some of the extravagances of Versailles. This is the place in which local people come to be married in the civil ceremony, amidst of swirl of huge paintings, sculptures and murals.

This was a good reminder (for me, at least) of the old adage about not judging a book by its cover. The lovely – but slightly austere and imposing –  external building concealed a beautiful interior.

Paying attention to details is important, too. I happened to notice – almost out of the corner of my eye – the dedication of this lovely statue in the main hall to the mathematician Pierre de Fermat, whom I did not previously know was from Toulouse, and discovered that he was even a member of Parliament here:

Fermat is very important in the history of mathematics, not the least of reasons for which was his ‘Last Theorem’ suggesting that it is not possible for two powers of the same order to add to another power of that order, except for the particular case of squares (with power 2), where there are infinitely many examples such as 3 squared added to 4 squared producing 5 squared. Although he claimed to have a marvellous proof of this surprising result, and nobody doubted its veracity, it was not definitively proved until late in the twentieth century, by Englishman Andrew Wiles, after nearly 400 years! Not surprisingly, Fermat appeared later in our wanderings, as shown below:

 

Like some others, the street named after Fermat is given in two languages, French and Occitan, still used a bit in this region. I have shown an enlarged version of the ceiling of the walkway expressing Fermat’s Last Theorem, as it is hard to see in the picture. It’s (too) rare that famous mathematicians are represented in public like this, so I was especially pleased to be here.

We also experienced surprises when we visited the Couvent des Jacobins, a medieval Dominican monastery that has been restored to much of its former glory, not far away from the Capitole. Although restoration work has restored the outside of the convent to its former state, it is a surprise to enter the huge and lovely nave of the church, with massive pillars reaching to the sky, it seemed:

 

As I often have, I marvelled at the skill of the engineers, craftsmen and builders who constructed such a space when it was erected in 1229. The vaulting on the ceiling is extraordinary, and the entire effect is quite lovely. The Jacobins was the site of the founding of the Dominican Order of preachers, in Toulouse in 1215, just over 800 years ago; it’s always a bit breathtaking to be amongst a built and recorded history that is so much older than our own in Australia. The images above also show the site of relics of St Thomas Aquinas, in a gold casket under the altar, which is a significant attractor for many pilgrims since its installation way back in the 14th century. The name of Aquinas is prominent in my home city of Perth, as one of the oldest private Catholic schools is named after him – although ‘oldest’ in Perth commonly refers to things around 100 or even 150 years ago!

We explored other parts of the Jacobins, including the beautiful restored cloister shown below, as well as other spaces such as a lovely chapel and a refectory. The photo also shows the lovely octagonal tower and you can see the extensive use of bricks which we had not noticed so much elsewhere in France.

Restoration is expensive and takes a lot of time, but is surely worth the expense, as it reminds us of the former glories of yesteryear; in the case of Toulouse, there were many examples of projects happening in the city, which is hopeful to be considered as a World Heritage site soon.

We spent some time wandering the streets of central Toulouse, apparently unaffected by the Western penchant for straight lines and perpendicular street crossings. The old map below (which seems to be still a pretty good representation of the city in 2018) makes this clear, suggesting that wandering is a much better option than driving:

There are many lovely streetscapes in Toulouse, with lovely facades of buildings, lots of shutters, balconies, fountains, statues and old cobblestoned paving and lots of different colours, including many pastel colours. I took lots of photos – way too many to show here – and show just a few examples below. (If you click on a picture, you will see more of what caught my eye):

 

We also visited other splendid places, such as the Cathedral of St Etienne, first consecrated in the 11th century, majestic outside and beautiful inside. Over the years, it has been improved, changed and extended and now includes both classical and gothic elements, partly accounting for its unusual lack of external symmetry.

 

Another memorable feature of Toulouse in particular (and France in general) is the food. And we had not been wandering for long before our lunch appointment, arranged by Jean-Jacques, was due at the lovely and very popular Entrecôte restaurant. (That’s our lovely host/tour guide Jean-Jacques waving to us outside the restaurant.)

 

The restaurant usually has a long queue to get in, unsurprisingly. Our food was wonderful, with tender and tasty entrecôte beef with unlimited frites (real French fries!) and decadent serving of profiteroles! We wobbled out of the restaurant, I think. A snapshot above shows the extraordinary way in which busy waitresses carried glasses around, too. The entire experience was delightful.

Our culinary adventures did not begin with the Entrecôte restaurant, however. We were treated to the best of French hospitality, with the staples of breads, wines and cheeses when we first arrived in this lovely city by our wonderful host, Jean-Jacques, as some snaps below make clear.

 

Our wandering around the city of Toulouse also had practical purposes: to acquire some food for our last evening meal with Jean-Jacques. The fromagerie (cheese shop) sold an extraordinary array of cheeses and – to my surprise – even some matching wines and beers! We were also indulged with a selection of cakes from the patisserie. I think it would be very difficult to keep one’s weight down in this gastronomic paradise!

 

What a lovely city! And its getting lovelier, with all the renovation works underway. Thoroughly worth a visit if you happen to be nearby in the south of France, enjoying other more famous places.

And how well we have been treated by our host and tour-guide, Jean-Jacques! Merci beaucoup!