4 June, 2010, Toulouse, France
It’s synchronicity that I decided to pick up Junky by William Burroughs today. He observes that junk actually exists both in the psychological and physical margins of society. As he puts it:
“Junk is often found adjacent to ambiguous or transitional districts: East Fourteenth near Third in New York; Poydras and St. Charles in New Orleans; San Juan Létran in Mexico City. Stores selling artificial limbs, wig-makers, dental mechanics, loft manufacturers of perfumes, pomades, essential oils. A point where dubious business enterprise touches skid row.”
In Toulouse this modern liminal space can be found near the train station (“La Gare”), perhaps even more specifically on Rue Bayard. The equivalent to Burroughs’ junky district: A place marked by marginal cafés, kebab joints, weird restaurants (one called, without a trace of irony, “Chicken Food”), telephone box and internet outlets, sketchy clothing shops and off-brand supermarkets. Even sitting outside a fairly stylish kebab resto, one can witness a deal going down: cars and lorries double-parked — boxes being moved around and suspicious looking plastic packages passed back and forth. The cops circle by in their heavy vans like sharks, but don’t dare stop to feed.
Of course, one other feature of these transitional spaces are small, independently run fly-by-night hotels, one of which I am currently staying in. This one’s not bad, all things considered, and surprisingly quieter than the hotel I happened upon a week ago on Rue Taur near the Capitole and the cathedral of Saint-Sernin. Rue Bayard, I think, is not where the party happens. But it’s certainly where folks come to pick up supplies…
June 22, 2010 at 2:10 pm |
Love this entry, so descriptive…Chicken Food…neither chicken or food I suspect!
June 22, 2010 at 9:17 pm |
Sounds familiar…Notre Dame and Charlevoix in Montreal before the posers moved in…
June 22, 2010 at 9:32 pm |
@SBP: Yeah…I’m still not sure anything at Chicken Food was even near an actual chicken. Some of the restaurants on that stretch were still less appealing…
@ricki: Totally apt comparison. In Montreal the telltale signs (of junk) were haphazard antique shops, dingy depanneurs, uniform stores and a delicious drag of classic diners. On that corner there was also Dilallos, the best burger in the city, right down to the banana peppers.
June 27, 2010 at 4:56 pm |
Sounds like where I live. :)