England is too tight; France Toulouse

In the central square of Toulouse on my first night in France I spotted my first European hippie.  Abundant in California, this species doesn't do well in the cold and rain of Ireland and England. Here I found them powering their amps by the electricity generated from bicycles.  (now those people on the bike's are true groupies)

I was welcomed in Toulouse by complete strangers from couchsurfing.org.  A young couple who turned out to be the best hosts one could imagine having:  Elise and Brahim were awesome and I even got my own room.  Elise and I spent the days together since she wasn't working.  Thank God I had her help speaking french and trying to buy a cell phone.

Rest in Pieces



Up above the entrance to a tomb- this man looks down at you.  You really feel as though you are being judged.



Elise lives right by a huge cemetary.  Since I find contemplating time, death and corpses one of my favorite passtimes, I insisted we explore.  The diversity of graves was astounding.  There were statues of the deceased, photographs, stained glass doors and rusted iron crosses.






Then we stumbled upon some fallen head stones that seemed to have taken the brunt of time and in this area was a grave half sunken and half upended.  The massive stone that covered the top had fallen into the tomb and thus left open the opposite end.  Peering in, you could see the casket in which lies a body over 100 years old.  The flash from the camera captured the best view.  On death's doorstep.