Sunday 26th July.
Well today pretty much confirmed that Toulouse is not a tourist destination. Surely there are better places for a future Super League franchise?!
A late start saw us up in time for lunch and we headed to the tried and tested McDonald’s to fill our boots for the day. And what a day. Scorching hot and not a cloud in the sky. 35 degrees apparently. But after lunch was eaten, we were challenged for something to do.
In France, they haven’t quite grasped the concept of working on a Sunday, so everywhere was shut. We contemplated the pool at our hotel, but we didn’t fancy it, despite the weather, and so settled in to watch the Hungarian Grand Prix at our hotel. Stunning stuff. It is perhaps a reflection of my life – as I portray in this blog – that we ended up watching sport instead of sunning ourselves. Lewis Hamilton won, in case you missed it.
Eventually we headed to the city centre, but it appeared that the Viking invasion was long over. We didn’t come across a single Vikings fan – they probably headed home today on the Liverpool flight, while we’re flying home to East Midlands tomorrow. We settled in both the George and Dragon and the Melting Pot for a drink or two, with a second pizza from Pizzeria Vecchio sandwiched in between.
We wandered around the city on the hunt for something to do, and we found a quite impressive art gallery. It was related somehow to Jean Jaures, a former French political figure, but we weren’t quite sure just what it had to do with him.
But as we ambled back to our hotel, we considered realistically how different is Toulouse to your typical northern English city. Weather aside, not a lot. There’s sod all to do.
But do I care? No. I came for the rugby. And we won. And that’s all that matters.
See you tomorrow!
