A nightly walk into my French City

Summer's warm, the air inhaled is holt as melted asphalt. And the streets are magnificents. 

I love walking by night, in the streets of every city. There's something magical during these moments. At night, everything is quiet, and a second life grow from the pavements. 
And from all these cities, mine is my favorite by far. 

The South of France, close from the sea. One of the biggest cities of the country. 
By day, everything is rustling with activities. Tourists, entertainment at every corner of the big avenues. The "dingding" of the tramways passing by. 
Shops opened everywhere, the smell of food and the clicking of drinks on the cafés. 

But at night, it's different. 
This town, like a lot of towns in France, is old. Heavy with history. Some houses are inhabited for 800 years. Most of them, for at least two centuries. 
In the yellow lights from the street lamps the carved stones looks even older. 
In the center of the city, the architecture speaks of past times. There are figures sculpted on the top of the doors, watching the passersby with their empty eyes. 

The pavements smells like oils, garbage, and some very distinctive smell from the south. 
The empty roads, devoid of cars at these hours, are sometimes so narrow than big cars cannot go through them. 
You can see clothing dangling from the balconies. Plants everywhere. Flags at the windows. 
It's messy, and so unique… 
The doors are high as two men, made of wood, and sometimes so ancient than the painting is long gone. 

The cathedral stands tall in the middle of a large place. There is light everywhere, so much you can see as it's full day. 
People are asleep against the cathedral doors. They will stay there all night, sometimes with their dogs, sometimes in little groups. 

Couples walk hand in hand. Tonight, I have seen a girl and a boy dancing in front of the tribunal. Under the trees. 
Some of them kiss desperately, some argue loudly.
Love is everywhere, as much as drama and a bit of carelessness. Bands of young people go play with the fountain water, blasting some loud music. 
It's so warm than everyone wears shorts, some girls are wearing only their bras on the top. 

Cafés are closed at this hour. 
But the bars are still open. Especially the pubs. Irish or scotrish pubs, with musiciens from local bands and karaoke nights. 
Huge parties, from the Celts that are numerous here. 

At the end of my tour, I stop by my friends' bar. Everyone hugs you there. People are nice, they offer you sope drinks and if you're careless you'll be fast engaged in a game of some sort. Where the whole bar will participate. 

I live in a very popular part of the city. At the mere center. 
Restaurants are opened nearly all night. Food's not good but really, that's not a problem. The university is here. 
Under the dim lights of the narrow streets, the drawings and graffitis on every walls looks strange, like lost in time. 
Layers of history accumulated one on each other. 

When I walk home, it's by a very used stair inside a 300 years old building. Every one of my steps resonates on the fourth floors. 
It's quiet. My neighbors are sleeping or working. 
The one just before my door is a musician that was playing on stage yesterday. I went to see his band. They were good. 

Silence now. 
Exept from the cars passing on the streets down my living room's window. 
It's quiet but never asleep. 

I love this city. 
It smells like life, it's at a crossroad of all of Europe, and it has a lot of secrets. 
And wonders.