À la ville

With everything seemingly shut up tight in Cordes, perhaps it was time to venture forth.

One of the places I did want Dirk to see was the cathedral in Albi. It’s not far. We should go. I even had an actual map, although I also have a French SIM card in my phone with a HUGE amount of data, so we can be guided by Siri.

Except, as soon as we leave the flat, Siri stops talking to me. What the fuck? Eventually notice message on phone: No SIM. What the hell? Of course there’s a SIM. I bought it and installed it at Toulouse airport. It’s been working fine. Oh, wait. I’ve been getting all this text messages from the service provider which I don’t understand and have been ignoring. One arrived last night in English, informing me that under French law, I have to register the SIM or it will be voided. Ah, yes, I remember someone on the KLM flight telling me this is a new thing in Europe, because too many criminals were using tourist SIMs. Okay, we had to remove the SIM from the phone to find its number to register, but we put it back. Why is it suddenly not working? Oh, well, no point in freaking out about it. We can get to Albi without a mobile phone.

Which we do. Only a half hour drive. Oh, but that fails to factor in finding somewhere to park. That takes 90 minutes. By the time we find a spot, we’ve lost sight of the Cathedral and have no idea where it is or we are. We start walking. It’s nearly 1:30 and all the decent restaurants will be shut in half an hour. We’re hungry. Are we really going to have to eat lunch in a no name French burger or taco bar? Probably.

I spot a tabac and think, maybe the can help me get the SIM out of the phone to see if we put it back in the wrong way round. I go up to the counter where a young woman is working. Employ my limited French. “Bon jour, mademoiselle. J’espere que vous pouvez m’aider.” I hold up the phone. “Ne marche pas. Avez vous quelque chose que…” At this point what little French I have abandons me, so I just point at the small hole in the side of the phone. She understands and begins rooting around in a drawer, eventually pulling out an earring that does the trick. SIM popped out. As far as Dirk and I can tell, she looks at it, then puts it back exactly the way it came out. Except now it works. Hurrah!

Find Irish pub that does not shut at 2pm, have lunch. Get to Sainte-Cecile.

If it looks like a fortress, there’s a reason. It was built as a fortress. Nothing fancy on the outside. Lots of fancy stuff on the inside.

Including the wall paintings for which it is famous.

Ninety minute wander round, then across the square to the Toulouse-Lautrec museum.

My personal favourite, although this one definitely tickled my fancy.

And then some fun with mirrors before heading home.

Will we go back to Albi? Nah. Le stationnement est une vraie galère.