“Make it like Timothée Chalamet.”
At a small hair salon in France, I held out my phone screen. The hairdresser glanced at it for a moment and laughed, “I see — just a regular perm!”
Morning of the Chocolatin
Waking up in the morning was amazing. When I opened the window, sunlight poured in. French windows have both a wooden door and a glass door, double-layered, and that alone feels so chic.
I thought that if I could spend every day in a place like this, I'd surely be happy and healthy.
I heard Elena and her mother's voices from below. So they're already up. After I took a shower and went downstairs, they greeted me with “Good morning.”
We decided, since we were at it, to walk to the nearby bakery to buy a baguette. Walking to the bakery, Elena told me about university. She wants to pursue a Master's and is torn between Bordeaux or Lille, or where to go.
The bakery was my first French bakery. Rows of baguettes and so many delicious-looking breads. I didn't know their names, but I picked one that surely tasted delicious. Elena bought it for me.
After eating the bread at home, her mother drove me to the station. While waiting for the train, a train — maybe a TGV — rushed by at an incredible speed, and I was startled.
I boarded the train bound for Toulouse. The carriage was crowded. When Elena held her suitcase, people around her offered their seats or moved their bags.
I didn't have the best impression of France, but people were just kind. Once again, I thought stereotypes are not good.
We arrived in Toulouse in about twenty minutes. First, I went to Elena's room to drop off my luggage. It wasn't large, but a lovely French-style student apartment. It was in the town center, and the surrounding architecture was great. Many buildings made the streets suddenly narrow — this was Toulouse.
For Elena, it's the town she's lived in for twenty years, so she's used to it. But for me, it was a town that kept surprising me with every step.
I bought a SIM card (40GB and usable in the Czech Republic) and completed the procedure with Elena's help. I really thought I wouldn't survive without her.
Then we went to a cafe. I ordered a cappuccino and a pain au chocolat.
Then Elena started fussing.
“It's not pain au chocolat — it's chocolatin!!”
Apparently in Toulouse, they call pain au chocolat “chocolatin.” It's kind of a cute name.
We found seats on the cafe's second floor and talked for about an hour. About my personality, about coming to France to meet Elena, about worrying how to make friends in Latvia and Georgia. When I said I even used Tinder to find friends, Elena said, “Tinder is an app for one-night stands or dates, right?” Of course that's true, but I told her you can make friendships too.
At a French hair salon
The salon appointment was at 4:30 PM. We headed there.
Getting my hair done at a French salon made me really nervous. I didn't know what to say or how to act. I told Elena that as we walked.
A small salon in the middle of the shopping street. The moment we entered, everyone greeted us loudly with “Bonjour!” — almost too loud. Everyone was smiling, and the place was full of positive energy.
A male hairdresser would do my curly hair. Elena had planned to be elsewhere until my hair was done, but when he learned I only spoke English, the hairdresser asked her to stay with me. Elena spread out her laptop beside me and studied.
When I showed the hairdresser a photo of Timothée Chalamet on my phone, he understood right away. He said the back was too short for a perm, so it would be a mix. He was upbeat, anyway.
They massaged my head while washing it. The way they put on the perm equipment was, again, stylish. In Japan they just put it on plainly, but in France it seems the custom is to attach it smartly. Cool.
They applied the perm solution in the hair-washing area. My neck was fixed in place, and I waited twenty minutes. This was tough—almost enough to make me hysterical. Being held like a Buddhist statue, I felt like a stage actor playing a dead person.
Meanwhile, as the hairdresser set up the perm equipment on me, he was talking with other customers through the wall. Because I could hear those voices, other customers joined the conversation too. The whole salon felt connected in one conversation.
This would never happen in a Japanese salon. Is France really such a friendly country?
They removed the perm equipment, applied the finishing solution for five minutes. They washed my hair, and another woman styled it. Elena glanced over at me occasionally, but I was too embarrassed to make eye contact.
They told me, 'Put on your glasses,' so I did.
The person in the mirror had more of a perm than I imagined. Not frizzy, but properly curly. A Timothée Chalamet-like hairstyle.
I was happy. Finally, I had the perm I'd always admired.
The bill was €95 — about 12,000 yen. Not expensive at all. For such a great result at that price, next time I get a perm I'll definitely come back to this Toulouse salon.
On the way out, they gave me a dog strap as a Christmas gift. Elena had also received a sample.
Dusk on the Garonne River
After leaving the salon, we headed to the riverbank.
The Garonne dyed by the sunset. Buildings reflected on the river's surface, making it look as if the world were turned upside down.
My favorite place in Toulouse. Without a doubt, it was here.
We sat by the river and watched the scenery together for a while. I said nothing. I didn't know what to say to Elena.
We had talked a lot online, so we already knew each other quite well. So what else was there left to talk about?
It was a little awkward. But I think making time to be close and say nothing is very important for bringing people closer together.
We started looking for a restaurant for dinner, but couldn't decide. Toulouse has so many record stores and bookstores that we kept making detours.
We ended up going into a gastro-style restaurant, but even after sitting down, no staff came. When we called them, the response was 'If you just came, please wait a bit.' With only an hour until Don Quixote began, we gave up and decided to go tomorrow.
In the end, we went to a burger joint.
The burger was many times larger than those in Japan. We shared the fries, which tasted a bit burnt — definitely not healthy.
Her mother joined us and asked, 'Do you like Toulouse?' Of course I loved it. It was only our second day meeting, so I wasn't used to it yet, but the streets were incredibly beautiful. Her mother bought cookies and water and gave me half the cookies.
Elena's mother somehow reminded me of my grandmother. She was very friendly.
A Night of Don Quixote
A theater next to a government building. When I went inside, I was breathless at its beauty.
We were about to watch a ballet here. It felt unreal. Above all, I was just grateful they'd bought a ticket for me.
From the top-floor seats, I looked down at the stage. I could see the orchestra.
During the first intermission, her mother bought champagne. The bar was crowded and it took time to get it.
Not too dry — just right. But I got drunk quickly. My body felt hot. The venue was warm too.
In the second act, I swayed along to the music while still tipsy.
To be honest, Don Quixote is a Spanish story full of dance, and I didn't really like the atmosphere that much. I prefer The Nutcracker, Sleeping Beauty, or Swan Lake.
But that didn't matter.
A friend I had met two days earlier welcomed me into her town, took me to the hairdresser, and even arranged ballet tickets. That fact was everything.
When the performance ended, we walked through the shopping street toward the parking lot. I was a little prepared for the question 'How was it?' wondering what I'd say, but nobody asked.
But really, the music was wonderful.
I felt thankful. I didn't say it aloud, though.
