On the Canal

Morning sun on the Canal

I have my first guest.  It involved a car trip to Toulouse. Jason, my landlord and I went to pick up his newest short-term tenant this past Thursday.  We made a scheduled stop in IKEA, where I was able to find some storage cubes to fit into the little alcove in my bedroom.  Now I will have a place out of the living room to store the to-be-purchased printer, and all those desk-y items that need a home.  Because I lived in such a remote area and had become accustomed to having very few choices, I was actually a little over-stimulated by all the options that IKEA offers and finally had to rein in Jason's tendency to look for "one more option."

My friend's first day here was filled with logistics....getting the international cell phone plan actually activated, discovering that chargers don't work without adapters, finding said adapters, figuring out how and where to change US dollars.  The answer to that is "In the US, or at an international airport." The fact is that in western Europe, the almighty US dollar is no longer the coveted currency it once was.  So, we have developed a plan B to get Euros.  Computers are now connected and I think my guest is feeling more linked to home, family and friends.  I can't remember what we did before all this technology, even though I actually traveled then, and lived to tell the tale.

My friend and I did something that I believe embodies the heart and soul of Carcassonne and the Grand Sud de France--we took a boat ride on the Canal du Midi.  It was nearly perfect.  We didn't go particularly far, maybe two or three miles outside of the city, but it was enough to get an idea of what it would be like to sail these canals.  The cruise went in the opposite direction of the walk I took during the clean-up Sunday, so I got to see some new territory.  The pace was slow; with each thrum of the engine, my anxiety and stress leaked out into the air.  This time of year is beautiful.  The plane trees are beginning to turn color, the mighty oaks are still green, although they are dropping their acorns, and the leaves of the black walnut trees had turned yellow.  The boat traffic was light--it was the last run on a Friday evening.  The temperature in the sun was warm, but in the shade, even I put on a sweater.  Something about moving slowly on the water on an early autumn afternoon soothes the soul. The guide gave us enough interesting history so that I felt enlightened.   The rest of the time was quiet and we were all lost in our own reveries. 

I honestly believe that if I could do only one "touristy" thing during my time here, it would be to take this cruise.  It demonstrates the pace of life here, that pace I so need, better than just about any other tourist attraction I can call to mind. 

I did bring the camera, but neglected to bring extra batteries, so I have no photos. Oh well, la prochaine fois--next time.