Lyon 12/14-16

I recognized a girl from my Friday train ride on the way from Bourg Saint-Maurice to Lyon. We chatted - she was from London originally, and had more recently spent time in Metz and Verbier, Switzerland. The ride was scenic, wrapping around beautiful lakes.

In Lyon I connected metro to funicular and arrived at my hill-side hostel in the old city, overlooking modern Lyon. I unloaded my bags, warmed up my hands and headed out to explore the city, but not before admiring the amazing view.

View from the hostel can't be beat

My first stop was Place des Terreaux, site of the Musee des Beaux-Arts de Lyon, and the Bartholdi fountain, decked out with steam-breathing horses.

Hotel de Ville at Place des Terreaux with fountain at left

I had a snack on the square as the sun set, then entered the museum. I moved slowly through the museum, completely spacing out in the Egyptian wing, and made little progress. The admission was free for students, so I could return, I reasoned. The museum attendants were eager to leave early, so I decided not to linger and headed out onto the streets. Literature describing Lyon never fails to mention the city's culinary reputation, and I was eager to indulge, but Monday was not the night to do it. Virtually every restaurant was closed save a single street - Rue des Marronniers. Littered with a mix of seriously touristy, and some more authentic eateries, the bustling pedestrian street reminded me of Paris' Latin Quarter where foreigners are accosted by pushy maître d’s. Here though, I was left to myself to choose a restaurant selected one for its unassuming, yet well-occupied interior and decent prices. The waitress, who sat me in a row of fellow single diners, took my beer order briskly and plopped a huge menu board down in front of me,. I thought she was giving me the tourist treatment until I watched the rest of the diners ordering in the same manner. Feeling adventurous, I blindly chose the andouillette. The dish served was a rich and mysterious sausage with sides of cooked vegetables and potatoes. Delicious, but heavy, the meal lived up to Lyon's reputation for indulgent cuisine.

I wandered a bit after dinner, in hopes of digesting a bit more. The next day would be productive, I decided, and retired to the hostel early. While the days were cloudy during my time in Lyon, the nights provided better opportunities for photos.

Three of Lyon's monuments - Back Row: Basilica Notre-Dame de Fourvière, Tour Metallique de Fourvière, Front Row: Cathédrale Saint-Jean-Baptiste de Lyon

Cool pedestrian bridge

In the morning I got up later than I had hoped, and moved uphill into the Fourvière section of Lyon, site of Roman ruins. There was a plot of land with two former Roman theaters side-by-side, now partially restored.

The larger theater, built in 15 BC with a capacity of 10,000, originally had columns behind the stage, and the theater was covered with cloth stretching from the back of the stands to the columns. Past the ruins lies the Basilica Notre-Dame de Fourvière. The church was a pleasant surprise - its gilded interior was decorated with incredible biblical mosaics, a refreshing change from typical stone-facade interiors.


I relaxed in the basilica for a few minutes, although the church was no reprieve from the cold and I struggled but failed to warm my hands.

Alleyway between Fourvière and Vieux Lyon

The walk back downhill was memorable for its tight alley staircases winding between apartment buildings. Sounds couldn't escape the stairwells; flute music gave way to shrieks of toddlers at a daycare center. I descended into the heart of Vieux Lyon, a pedestrian area populated by students congregating at kebab shops rather than tourists. The streets smelled not of urine or pollution, but of delicious incubating food. I had a kebab for lunch, following the lead of the students and saving money and room for dinner. After cris-crossing old Lyon a few times and soaking in the quaint, quiet walkways, I walked north, crossing over the Rhone, then the Saone rivers toward slightly more modern parts of Lyon. At the north end of the city lies the Parc de la Tête d'Or, where I did a lap along the manmade lake with barely a handful of people in sight.

It's around this point - the 36-hour mark - of a solo trip that I start to talk to myself. I narrated my own thoughts as I moved back into the eastern section of the city. It was cold and overcast and only getting colder, so I stopped in the Centre Commercial Part Dieu, an enormous shopping mall, to warm up and replace a hat I had left on the train the day before while helping the British girl with her bags. Less than two weeks before Christmas the American-style mall was packed with shoppers.

Night drifted on and I headed west back toward the old city, eager to try one of the many restaurants that had been shuttered the previous night. Waiting to cross an intersection, I noticed a van with some sort-of lit camera-like contraption on top. As the van turned slowly, and its music blared, the camera rotated and revealed itself to be a complete menorah. I quick-drew my camera and snapped some pictures to send to my Jewish friends, but they saw me and pulled over. "Est-que vous etes juifs?" No, I responded, but I have many friends who are.

The Hannukah-mobile

The restaurant I selected was busy, but didn't warrant my seating in the worst possible spot - behind the computerized cash register screen in fact. I could see exactly what diners were ordering though, and followed suit. The first course, salade lyonnaise, would pass for a full meal most places. The next course, a steak doused in a decadent sauce I can only describe as donut batter, sharing the plate grudgingly with a huge portion of creamy potatoes, was plain overwhelming. I gave up halfway through, opting for a bit of light dessert. The plate that came out next made me laugh out loud. It was a full on sundae boat of ice cream with half a bottle of whipped cream on top. I offered some to the man next to me, but he declined, laughing as well. Another diner paused as she left the restaurant to comment, and I caught the words "impossible de finir." She was right. I went for a walk in the old city to digest before returning to the hostel. IN the morning I was on the first train toward Metz, arriving by mid-day to begin the arduous apartment-cleaning process.

Not sure what building this is, but it looks pretty cool lit up

I believe those are floating night clubs in the foreground

The Hannukah-mobile

Enormous plate of ice cream - the photo doesn't capture the full size. Also they serve water for free in Lyon! Probably because they know you'll need it to digest their heavy fare.