It was somewhat surreal arriving in the quaint historic centre of Toulouse in time to catch the end of a Gay Pride parade. The rainbow flag was flying everywhere and there was a carnival atmosphere in the main square as music blared from tents set up in the square. Gay men, lesbians, and heterosexuals leaned on placards chatting together, many of them were wearing fancy dress (we saw a flock of angels, a pack of devils and some cancan girls).

After the deprivations of our Madrid Hostel, our 2 star hotel in Toulouse (hotel St Claire) was a haven of tranquility. Our room was quiet, air conditioned and spacious, with clean white bedding with white flowers embroidered on the duvet, cream coloured wooden furniture, and a bathroom that was twice the size of any we had in Spain. What was galling was that it was 5 euro cheaper than the night before!

The beautiful French girl at reception gave us a recommendation for dinner in her delightfully accented English. La Brasserie turned out to be an absolutely gorgeous restaurant - neatly aproned wait staff patrolled the white tableclothed tables, set with white napkins, candles and the biggest wine glasses I've ever seen. The reasonably priced menu sounded delicious - from what I could decipher - so we sat down at a romantic corner table and ordered a bottle of viogner, a goats cheese salad to share as an entree, followed by duck cassoulet for Dale, and lamb cutlets for me.

I had definite meal envy when Dale's cassoulet arrived. A steaming dish of white beans, carrot, sausage, bacon, and tomato based sauce with a confit duck leg in the middle. Dale declared that he was going to marry the French receptionist. I reminded him of the inconvenient wrinkle to that plan - namely his current wife.

My lamb cutlets were beautifully seasoned and served medium rare with a generous helping of roast potatoes and crisp leafy salad. (I was still jealous of Dale's cassoulet though.) If this is an indication of what French dining is like, I'm going to need bigger clothes!