I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve wasted a half year trying to make time to write comprehensive posts. No more. Look for brief, quick notes.

On the road to Biarritz.

We decide to take the expressway (autoroute) instead of the more direct way on roads that wind through villages. Good thing. It would have taken forever. Even so, we were on the road for 8 or nine hours…including a lengthy stop in Toulouse for authentic Toulousian cassoulet.

We had a guidebook and managed to use it to find the recommended restaurant, Le Fregate. The six of us walked in, sat down and asked for the menu. No menu. We don’t serve food. OK, where can we find authentic cassoulet of Toulouse? Next door. So, we moved next door to Le Bon Vivre. Pretty little place, long and narrow, rows of seats along each wall, rows of chairs across the little tables for two. Not exactly family seating, but almost, especially as the place filled up.

Three of our party ordered the cassoulet. 25 minute wait to do it right? No problem. When it came, all agreed that it was fine eating – more ham and less duck than Carcassonne, two different kinds of sausages. And those big, white beans. Still, the Carcassonne version was generally agreed to be the better of the two. We look forward to trying the third distinct version of cassoulet, that of Castelnaudary.

Clearly Le Bon Vivre is a popular spot, couples and businessmen and the happy buzz that you get when people are enjoying their food. One regular in particular caught our eye, an old pensioner – must have been in his 80s – complete with a well-worn cardigan, a blue shirt and a tie with a big, loose knot. Sat by himself at the closest table to the kitchen. Ordered duck. The waiter, with a full load, stopped to cut his meat for him. The old gentleman sucked the bones.

Toulouse appeared to be an interesting city and would have been great fun to walk around in. But we were in a hurry. Next time.