Moving day

18 Place de la Daurade, Toulouse.

It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m typing this from my little window desk nook.  That’s right MY window desk nook.  We gave ourselves one week to find an apartment…and we did it.  In fact, we took the first and only place we saw, because the price was right and it was AWESOME.  A spacious studio, 4 floors up (sans acensur) overlooking the Place de la Daurade, the Garonne river to our right and the entire span of Pont Neuf  outside our living room windows.  It’s quiet today, like all Sundays here, and it’s hard to imagine that just 2 days ago we had rented a truck, drove out to some French suburbs to get furniture (most importantly a bed for that night) and drove it back into the city centre and moved all our stuff up 4 flights of stairs. We understood the true meaning of pain when trying to park the truck in the “hyper-centre” of Toulouse during rush hour.  Stress was at an all time max-out.  Moving all our furniture and stuff up four flights of stairs seemed like a breeze after the whole truck ordeal.  But with everything put in its place (including our backpacks which are empty and in storage) I can shudder off the whole ordeal like a bad dream and think about what to make for dinner tonight. 

We went to the market along Strasbourg Blvd. and although the market is one of the most impressive ones I’ve been to, the highlight of my shopping trip was buying a piece of butter that was cut off of a large block from the cheese/dairy vendor.  A little salty and wrapped up in a piece of wax paper, just the way I like it.  Got some basics and toted it all the way home in a basket: cheese, fruit, vegetables, olives, sundried tomatoes, a baguette and a roast chicken.  Set on the kitchen counter by the window, it’s a still life of sorts.

Pont Neuf over the Garonne from our living room window.

The view from the kitchen window.