Translation?

Wednesday 14 September 2011

Albi & a fig tree

La vue depuis la pont
On returning to France last week, I was lucky enough to be given a couchsurfer-escorted (it's the only way) trip to Albi. A quaint, almost secretive beauty of a French city, it was typically known for its large brick cathedral, and the origin of the ultra famous (although perhaps not so talked about) artist Toulouse Lautrec.





Fred first took me to the charming chez of his grandparents, situated in the hills. His lovely grand-mere showed me around the home, (I practiced my best 'oohing and ahhing' French words), and to the back garden, where she picked a fig off a tree (perhaps her own hosting tradition) for my enjoyment. His grand-pere was a jolly French man of few words but a knowing smile, and I immediately felt at home (the early afternoon aperitivo of mini cheesecubes and a fruity rum drink certainly added to the ambience).

Fred, in his hometown











Après, we strolled along the itsy bitsy roads of cobblestones and great French vintage smells.

















Visiting Albi without entering the great cathedral is to commit a tragic crime. Filled with the largest Italian paintings in Europe (if I remember correctly), the grandeur certainly struck a chord for my visited church collection. I have begun in fact to make a point to visit the churches before any other monument in a city, perhaps because of the guaranteed history, but in part the peace which inevitably accompanies.

Watch your step!
The well known brick


















Toulouse Lautrec was everywhere. Every shop had souvenirs with the famous 'Chat Noir' and Moulin Rouge, which convinced me I couldn't live without them, and mock drawings covered walls on many streets. This city was swollen with artsy pride, and I couldn't help believe it was justified.

My personal favorite, the dancer
As I wrote in the thank-you card to Fred's kind grandparents, I hope I can return one day. Albi is a small "scintillant au trésor" (glittering treasure) to be cherished.