We’re on our return train back to Limoges from a rather lovely weekend in Toulouse, a city we’ve not visited before.

Primary reason for visiting was to see Frank Turner at Le Rex because it’s the closest he’s toured to us since we’ve lived here, but we had a good old wander around the city too.

Limoges to Toulouse by direct train is about 3.1/2 hours, and it was a short Uber ride to our hotel from the station. Our room was ready when we arrived so we quickly dumped our bags and set out to explore.

It’s a bit of a rabbit warren of semi pedestrianised walkways, opening on to little squares and lots of pretty shops. I say semi-pedestrianised because death by scooter or cyclist was only ever a whisper away. At least in Amsterdam there’s a certain level of both order and expectation, here not so much. Deliveroo riders bombing about and the occasional car forcing everyone to the side. Didn’t love it.

First place of interest was Basilica Saint Sernin, the foundations of which date back to the 4th century. It’s on the Compostella de Santiago pilgrimage route (as is our house), but it’s a pilgrimage site in its own right as it is crammed to the gills with reliquaries. You know I love this stuff but sadly, while I could see them all tantalisingly close in their little golden boxes and cages, I couldn’t get close enough to see what bits of what saints were contained within. I am the same little 8 year old that had her face pressed to the mummies glass cases in the British Museum. There were lots of lovely atmospheric nooks and crannies in here, and some fabulous artwork, the canopy over the alter is something else.

Next port of call was the bar and terrace on the roof of Galleries Lafayette, with panoramic views across the city. I could see 9 church spires without turning my head. We were lucky with the weather too, crisp blue skies, warm in the sun but decidedly chilly in the shade. Perfect mooching weather as long as you had an optional scarf.

We had a pint at the aptly named Frog and Rosbif and headed back to the hotel to change before going out for dinner.

Dinner was at Les Halles De la Cartoucherie, a big industrial warehousing building that housed co-working spaces, a library, shops, a climbing wall and (unsurprisingly), the reason for our visit, multiple food vendors around a central communal eating space, so we could choose from a huge amount of options from West African to Lebanese, to traditional French, Thai, Bao Buns, hotdogs, seafood – all sorts. The premise is that you scan a QR code on the table, order your food from any of the vendors you choose. You then get a text message when the food is ready, and you collect it from the relevant vendor. The orders were ready super quickly, so I was dashing off collecting Pinxtos of Iberian ham and anchovies with quail eggs, a New York hot dog made with Toulouse sausage (what else), topped with pickles and mustard, Katsu style chicken bao buns, and hubs had a sort of brioche croque monsieur. You could order drinks the same way, or like everything else, you could also go direct to the stall to order, everything from Breton cider, to wine caves, to a really good Old Fashioned, my drink of choice. Was a lively place with a great atmosphere, full of people of all ages which I thought was really nice.

Then back to the hotel where I crashed out hard…..

The next morning, was another one with uninterrupted blue skies, so we set out to wander the Japanese Gardens which were right next to our hotel. There was a small group of people meditating under the trees, we saw squirrels, and I googled more plants than I can mention to see if I can grow them in my garden. I do love this style of garden, it’s so calming. A large gravel garden with raked lines in undulating circles around small sculptures. Manicured ball shaped hedges and trees, no sharp edges, everything is soft and tactile and relax….. Large decked pagoda area overlooking a koi pond, and any portal that led to another space, framed the view within it like a picture postcard. I love bamboo but I’m too scared to grow it, but marvelling at the size of it while the breeze rustled its way through was a treat. A pleasant diversion indeed.

Next was the Jacobin Monastery and cloisters, and oh my! We were both chatting away as we walked through the doors, and we just fell quiet at the beauty of it. The ceiling height, the light on the stone through the stained glass windows in full sun was gorgeous.

This was the one place I really wanted to visit, because as a huge fan of the website Atlas Obscura, there were 2 things of interest in here to me. The first, the relics of Saint Thomas Aquinus lie here in a golden ark of the covenant where they are paraded about on certain high days and holidays. You know I love a relic, and this one is rather a grand fromage. Sadly the relic itself isn’t on display but there a picture at least, to satisfy my macabre heart.

The second is a quirky little thing, and something that would have passed me by entirely if it wasn’t for Atlas Obscura. I would urge you to take a look at it if you’re travelling anywhere and see if there are any places of interest you could check out on your trip. There’s always something I find interesting, and plenty I’d otherwise miss. If nothing else you can go down a rabbit hole of interest, I can lose myself for ages.

Anyway, in the alcove to the left hand side of the church, behind St Thomas Aquinus, you’ll find an odd little monument to the “little crushed man”. You can see at the bottom of one of the massive columns, a pair of bony carved hands, and some little chubby feet sticking out the other side. No-one knows the origins or the significance, and apparently some of the tour guides don’t even know they’re there. Was such a thrill to find them, I felt like Indiana Jones for a moment. And another thing to tick off on my list of visited places on Atlas Obscura, – now standing at 113.

Next we paid our admission to enter the cloisters themselves and their Cathars exhibition. Like many, I first read about the Cathars and the nearby fortified city of Carcassonne in the book Labyrinth by Kate Mosse. I don’t really read much fiction, but it was a holiday read and I found myself fascinated by the places she brought so vividly to life. I remember imagining what Carcassonne would be like, never mind that I’d visit it one day, and actually live here in France. There’s too much subject matter to cover here, and this is already turning into a long read. Potted history, Cathars were a break away medieval religious sect and were seen as a threat to Catholicism due to their differing beliefs and customs. Rooting out the heretics became the sole purpose of the Spanish Inquisition, and thousands of Cathars were burned at the stake for their beliefs, with up to a million Cathars estimated to have been killed during this period of persecution. Add in the Crusades and a liberal dash of Knights Templar, and basically, what a terrifying time to be alive. Exhibition completed after more than a few bad Monty Python impressions about no-one expecting things, fridge magnet purchased, onward we go.

We just mooched about for the rest of the afternoon, had ramen noodles, a Florentine the size of my head, and found a guitar shop for my beloved.

Then back to the hotel to change before Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls supported by Skinny Lister at Le Rex, which was the reason we were here.

Frank was epic as ever, I don’t call him my therapist for nothing, and Skinny were also great, can’t beat some shanty punk to get the party started. And party we did. 17,000 steps that day, and my soul battery fully recharged. Amen to that.

I think I slept like I’d been run over that night.

Then in the morning it was pack and straight to the station. Our Uber came to a compete standstill in traffic en-route and it became apparent no-one was getting through the traffic lights when they changed to green. We waited for a bit, and we could see blue flashing lights and we still didn’t move. We were seconds away from the station with half an hour to spare before our train was due to depart so we opted to walk, but we could see as we got closer that something was afoot. Sure enough there was yellow tape everywhere, multiple ambulances and police vehicles and it was clear the station had been evacuated. We were there outside for about 15 minutes when we heard the controlled explosion, and someone’s forgotten baggage was blown into tiny bits. After a little bit of chaos in the station until the departure boards were back in full swing, we did make our train but we were an hour late. The only very slight fly in the ointment of a pretty decent weekend.

If you are thinking of visiting Toulouse then it’s absolutely worth it. It hasn’t knocked Nantes and Lyon off our top spots for French city breaks, but we had a great time.

Back to normality now, boooo.

TTFN V x

You can read my Lyon blogs here Lyon Foodie Heaven and Lyon Part 2