You know that feeling when you're not quite sure what to expect, but you dive in anyway? That was me when I landed in Toulouse. I thought, “What's the best thing to do in Toulouse?” Honestly, I had a rough itinerary in my head, but I was ready for whatever the city threw at me. Spoiler: it ended up being way more than I could have predicted.
This spot? Total surprise.
So, the first afternoon, I was strolling near the Place du Capitole. The weather was that perfect mix of sunny but with a slight breeze—a kind of day that feels like a gift. I mean, I was already mentally crafting a postcard home. I was looking for a café, something quaint, when I stumbled upon this little alleyway. Of course, I thought, “What's down there?”
I was half-braced for a dead end or some tourist trap, but then I turned the corner and bam! A tiny open-air market, packed with vibrant produce, fresh flowers, and the air filled with the tantalizing scent of homemade crepes. I don't know why I ended up there, maybe it was just intuition, but I'm so glad I did. I hadn't planned on spending hours wandering through the stalls, but I got lost in the energy of it all.
The vendors were friendly, chatting away in rapid French, but even with my limited language skills, I managed to bumble through a conversation about cheeses. My French probably sounded like a toddler's first sentences, but you know what? They were so patient. One vendor even handed me a piece of cheese to try—it was this creamy little corner of heaven. I was giddy over something as simple as a cheese sample!
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
That evening, I was feeling a bit off. You know how travel can be—it's exhilarating yet exhausting. I'd spent so much time worrying about checking off all the best things to do in Toulouse that I was running myself ragged. That's when I decided to ditch my planned dinner spot and wander.
Walking along the Garonne River was one of those moments that literally took my breath away. The sun was setting, casting this orange glow over the water, the city starting to twinkle like Christmas lights. It was beautiful. I thought I'd go grab a quick bite, but somehow I ended up at this tiny little spot called Café des Artistes.
I almost didn't walk in; I thought it looked too small and maybe a bit too trendy for a solo traveler like me. But thank goodness I did. I squeezed into a little corner table, ordered a dish of cassoulet, and waited. I think that wait was what I needed—a moment just to breathe and not think about the next thing to do.
When that cassoulet came, oof. It was this gorgeous mix of duck, sausages, beans, and savory goodness all mingled together. The first bite was comforting in the way a hug from a good friend feels after a long day. I didn't want to be anywhere else. Each forkful felt like a cozy reminder of why I traveled in the first place. I looked around and noticed other diners laughing and sharing—this little café just pulsed with life. I definitely found a piece of Toulouse in that meal.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction.
You know how sometimes you think you're heading in one direction, only to end up in a completely different place? Well, I wanted to check out the Basilica of Saint-Sernin, right? Seemed easy enough. I had my phone out, maps on standby, and thought, “How hard could this be?” Let's just say my sense of direction often plays hide and seek with me.
I ended up wandering onto a street that looked like something out of a movie set—old stone buildings, ivy crawling up the walls, but definitely not the right way. I was floundering in my navigation skills when I heard music—real, live music. Curiosity got the best of me, so I followed the sound, even if it was miles away from my original destination.
This led me, somewhat accidentally, to a courtyard that hosts local musicians every Saturday evening. And there I was, sitting on the cobblestones, mesmerized as a folk band played traditional tunes. It felt very real, like a slice of life in Toulouse that wasn't shoved in your face as a tourist attraction. People were dancing, singing along, and I couldn't help but get swept up in it.
I realized, in that moment, that I'd have given anything to have been there for more than a short while. Not everything needs an itinerary, right? Sometimes the detours offer more than the straight path.
Not everything goes as planned, but that’s okay.
The last day I was there, I decided I needed to hit some of the “must-visit” spots—because I mean, I couldn't go home and not snap a picture of the iconic Capitole, right? But honestly, I felt a bit manic trying to see everything. I wandered through museums that were beautiful but lost their appeal after a while. Fine art and ancient relics are great, but I just wanted to be part of the vibe, not just an observer.
I stopped for coffee at a quaint little café before heading to my next “must,” and while I scanned for good Instagram shots, two locals struck up a chat with me. We ended up laughing about our adventures and sharing travel tips. They pointed me to their favorite spot—a little park just down the way—because apparently, I needed a break from the tourist route.
That little park turned out to be a human-scale respite, tucked away behind hedges. I plopped down on a bench, sipped my coffee, and just listened. Kids splashed in a fountain, couples strolled hand-in-hand, and I felt this wave of contentment wash over me. No grandiosity, just pure, simple joy.
So yeah. The best things to do in Toulouse sometimes came from getting lost, from sidestepping my own carefully planned itinerary. I didn't check everything off my list, but I found moments that felt perfect in their own messy little ways. And honestly, I wouldn't trade those experiences for a picture-perfect postcard for the world.
And as I sit here finishing my last sip of coffee, I'm still processing it all, pieces of joy, travel chaos, and the warmth of unexpected connections swirling in my mind. Toulouse isn't just a spot on a map; it's a feeling. And I can't wait to go back—crepes and cassoulet calling me like an old friend.
