Never had my gut feeling been so wrong. I remember the night
when the phrase “butterflies in my stomach” didn’t even come close to how I
felt. It was 2 a.m. on a September morning in 2009. The car was packed and
ready to go, and my parents and I were about to leave for a journey that would
take us through the Channel Tunnel, across France, down to Toulouse. It was the
fear of the unknown in what would actually become the greatest year of my life
to date.
As part of my Year Abroad, I chose to work as a part-time English language assistant in a comprehensive school: Lycée Saint-Exupéry, in Blagnac just north of Toulouse – a city I had no prior knowledge of.
I spent the summer casually researching the city to see what
I could expect: was it young or old? modern or old-fashioned? belle or moche? But
it was a stressful time, as time was quickly running out to find somewhere to
live, which involved ringing up people in France and speaking French. Terrifying.
Luckily, I found a flatshare in a bright apartment that was really close to the
city centre, overlooking the River Garonne, and more importantly, the city’s
main stadium. And I got to live with French people! My lovely landlady,
Isabelle, who introduced me to the arts scene in Toulouse, and Kévin, an
18-year-old lad in his last years of school, who I didn’t really see much of.
Breathtaking views in the Pyrenees |
One of the many bridges in the centre of Toulouse beautifully lit up at night |
The time came for my parents to abandon me and leave me to fend for myself. I spent a few days settling in and getting to know the city by hiring a bike and exploring the narrow streets, checking out the markets, seeing the sights, and also arranging to meet up with other English-speaking assistants in the city. I quickly got to know Place St Pierre – the hub of la vie nocturne in Toulouse – and made some Anglophone friends. Now I felt a little bit more relaxed and ready to start at school...
> Part 2: Une Ville des Arts
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