Lyon Part Two

 As I laid in bed in Lyon sweating and swatting mosquitos, I realized that travel requires two basic things: a good sense of humor and perspective. I switched from feeling sorry for myself to realizing that many of the homeless people we encountered in Lyon would think that they were in heaven to be in our position:  sheltered and with comfortable bedding, good plumbing, and ample food and wine. I got right back to sleep.

Since I had overdone it with walking the day before we decided to take the Hop On/ Hop Off bus. We walked over to the starting point and were proud that we had gotten there two minutes before eleven, when the tour was supposed to begin.  Twenty minutes later, we were still sitting there. Had I known I’d have hopped off and gone to the nearby cafe for a coffee and toilet. We finally departed and the narration began and was well done. At the second stop we got off for a coffee and toilet and walked about to see the courtyard of the Musée des Beaux Arts, which was cool and filled with mature trees, sculptures, and benches, quite tranquil, and I counted it as a museum visit. We picked up the bus again and for the next hour plus got to see a whole lot more of Lyon then we would have on foot.  Quite the lovely city!

On the way back to our new hotel we were thinking of getting a sandwich at a local bakery but decided to visit the little restaurant where we had coffee every morning. As I mentioned, you can’t go wrong eating in Lyon and this hole in the wall was no exception. Cindy had her all-time favorite dish, pan-seared duck foie gras, and oh my was it exceptional. In many places it is just a very small piece of liver but here it was two large and perfectly seared pieces in a rich reduction of wine and duck fat (with an added pat of butter, no doubt). Heavenly and so very unexpected - and much better than a sandwich. 

We returned to our lovely AC-equipped room for a well-deserved nap followed by a walk along the river before heading out to dinner at about seven pm.  We went to the very popular and very old Brasserie Georges. We had tried it the night before but the lines were huge - however, this evening we were early enough to be seated almost right away. The room is cavernous and the service sublime. White shirted, black aproned waiters moved like ballet dancers serving the hundreds of tables with aplomb. The food and wine were, of course, spectacular.  We had typical plates from the region:  escargot, local ham with poached eggs, salmon tataki (well perhaps that wasn’t from the region) and cod aioli with boiled potatoes and carrots.  A lovely last meal in Lyon. On the way home we stopped at a bistro we had frequented a few times and enjoyed a cognac to toast Lyon. 

The next morning after walking for a bit of exercise and then packing our suitcases we set off in an Uber to catch our train to Nice. It was a very long car trip due to congestion from construction and general heavy traffic but we still made it with fifteen minutes to spare, enough time for Cindy to dart into a shop for a sandwich and bottle of water. Our train was an old one with no upper deck and our seats faced backward from the direction of travel so no real views to speak of. Actually it didn't matter since the windows were so dirty!  Train travel, even in first class, isn’t as much fun as we remembered. First of all they allow animals to accompany passengers and I do not approve! There is no real service as there used to be, i.e., no one coming with a cart to sell snacks, food, drink or newspapers, and the car had not been cleared of the detritus from previous passengers.  I had to gather up empty wrappers and cartons from someone's lunch and find the garbage can.  We just sat there for four hours and decided that our noble experiment proved that we’ll not do extensive train travel again. 

We arrived in Nice thirty minutes late and everyone headed for the taxi stand. It took awhile but I didn’t care, I could smell the salt water and the Mediterranean sun was strong and comforting. Two young ladies behind us were also going to the Hyatt so we let them share our cab and learned a lot about them in a short period of time. They were childhood friends celebrating their 40th birthdays together, having left their young children with the fathers back in North Carolina. They were having a great time and we were very happy for them!

Lyon, Part 1

 Lyon

Rest assured that our remaining meals in Paris were "successful" - good service and delicious food including a wonderful breast of duck at a little bistro.  But on Sunday it was time to move to Lyon, and getting here was not half the fun!  Departing Paris was a total mess. Our hotel was directly behind the Place de la République which from the day of our arrival was being prepared for some event. No one at the hotel knew exactly what the event was or when it was to take place. On Friday night we noticed that there were a lot of Irish in the bar at the hotel. Turns out they were playing Scotland in a game in Paris on Saturday night, part of the World Cup of Rugby.  Saturday the streets were filled with the Irish and Scots, most of the men in kilts, quite the scene. The hotel was jumping at five with the bar filled and event rooms hosting pregame parties before they all departed for the stadium for the big match. 

On Sunday morning I approached the front desk before my walk to order a taxi to the train station at 11am. I was told that no vehicles were able to come to the hotel for the entire day due to the security surrounding the ParaOlympics outside our door. Why weren’t we given this information before, I queried:  Gallic Shrug response.  What this meant was that all of the guests leaving for airports or trains had to schlep luggage for three blocks and try to find a taxi or Uber.  What should have been a fifteen-minute trip turned out to take more than an hour - and we were the lucky ones since we could afford the ‘dynamic pricing’ of Uber. 

We got to the train station and waited in the spartan but calm first class lounge, which offered water and quiet. Our train was packed; we were told they all are packed these days. The train was a double-decker and we hauled our bags up the narrow stairs and found our seats. First Class ain’t what it used to be. Think airline coach seats with big windows - which are shared by two rows of seats and since the folks in front of us immediately lowered the shade, so much for vistas. I had thought that First Class would be a bit more elegant. Our last first class train trip was from Malaga to Madrid just a few years ago and it had large comfortable seats, it included a four course lunch with wine and brandy, and there were lovely large windows to view the marvelous countryside. 

We arrived on schedule and after several false starts found the exit for taxis and were on our way. I had reserved a suite at our hotel, not part of a chain since I wanted a local experience. Be careful what you wish for!!  The taxi pulled up to a nondescript door where two people were trying to get in. I looked at the plaque next to the door and it indicated that this was a two-star hotel.  What?!  (France rates hotels with stars from 1 to 5; you can probably guess that we don't choose "2" at this stage of our lives.)  I was sure we were in the wrong place but alas, it was correct. We checked in with the owner who was lovely and helpful and I just thought ok, we have a suite, how bad can it be. The answer came within minutes of entering the room. I looked around and went to what I thought was a door to the sitting room only to find out it was a closet. This was not my idea of a suite!!  I looked for the AC control since the room was hot and there was none; the room and the entire hotel had no AC and it was 85 degrees outside. I panicked when I saw a plug that is used to fill the room with anti-mosquito smells, good god I had time-traveled forty years in the past!

I immediately started to look for another hotel but all of them were completely booked. Not sure why - conferences, rugby tournament, tourists - but all the good hotels were not available.  Cindy located one across the street from us but availability was not apparent from the websit so we thought perhaps we would give it a shot in person.  It was a small boutique hotel with four stars and AC, nice restaurant and bar. We made our pitch and they looked and looked and found a room starting two nights from then. We leaped, knowing the next two nights would be rough but we were determined not to ruin our time in Lyon. We left a deposit and returned to our original hotel to semi-unpack and then took off on foot to see the sights. We have been to Lyon at least twice, perhaps three times and nothing looked familiar so we treated it like a new city.  I walked too much the first full day, after an uncomfortable night due to the fact that they had rubber under the sheets which makes me sweat horribly. We removed the rubber sheet, turned up the fan and finally got some decent sleep. 

The next day we walked over to the old town and took a funicular up to the Basilica Notre Dame Fourvière which is an enormous structure on the highest hill of Lyon with commanding views of the entire city, the two rivers, the Saone and Rhône, and on a clear day the Alps!  We then continued walking for miles and miles, which was a good way to see lots of sites, but not so good for my back. 

The best news is that everything you hear about Lyon being a wonderful food city is understated: It is fantastic!!  We only went to little places that were quite informal but goodness the food and wine were spectacular. Walking a lot justified good meals, not that they need justification. I’ve never been to little bars and bistros where the house white was Macon Villages and the red, Crozes Hermitage!  The average person like me can be forgiven for ordering petite portions from the menu but that only means that they are slightly smaller than the huge portion of the same dish. You never walk away hungry in Lyon!

Ciao for now,  Cindy and William

Last Rose of Summer

(Forgive any repeats, can't access my blogs so I'm never sure what I sent already)

The summer just seemed to linger and linger, mostly because I didn’t do much or go anywhere. We arrived home on April 1st after a very busy winter of travel and I didn’t get on an airplane, train or bus until the last week of September. Cindy, on the other hand, was quite busy; one music camp in July, cut short by Covid, another in August and a quick trip to visit her sister in August. I have had one long and one short car trip. We went to Bristol VA to celebrate Cindy’s birthday week in early June. The City of Bristol is divided by a yellow line down main street.  One side is Virginia, the other Tennessee. We only spent money on the Virginia side since we were miffed at the Tennessee legislators and their petty racist antics. The hotel we stayed in offered free tickets to the Museum of Country Music. As you know I’m not much on museums but this trip was about Cindy so I went. I must tell you that it was one of the top five museums I’ve ever visited. Beautifully organized and so informative, especially since I know very little about Country Music.

From Bristol we drove to Asheville to visit a dear friend and to tour the Biltmore Estate. (Yes, another museum.) It was lovely to see how the robber barons lived and played. I’m thinking of running a spur of my railroad to the house so as to facilitate new construction!  We walked the downtown area of Asheville, filled with aging hippies, ageless hikers and assorted homeless, beggars, and bums, a very strange mix. Then it was on to Greensboro to visit a few of our finest friends. One staged a magnificent birthday dinner for Cindy complete with a surprise visit from a friend who Cindy had mentored when she was dean. The next day our host surprised us with a Birthday Cruise on a lovely lake near their home followed by ice cream cones and wine, what a day. 

Finally home again where Cindy - who last summer had promised to reduce the size of her gardens - commenced to INCREASE the size of her gardens. Between her tilling the soil, practicing violin, viola and piano, I usually only saw her at meals and cocktails, but my what lovely vegetables, herbs and flowers we have had all summer.

The last weekend of September found us in beautiful Montreal with Colin and Meagan for a four day celebration of Colin’s birthday. It is a lovely city, especially the old town by the river. We did two days of the Hop on/ Hop off bus which was a welcome break from our eating and drinking our way through the city. The food it uniformly excellent and the portions were, shall we say, hearty!  It was loads of fun and the time flew by. Speaking of flying, on our trip home I had an experience that was unique in all my years of travel. The twenty-something tattooed flight attendant - who had enjoyed too many meals in her short life - sat down in her jump seat twenty minutes before landing and simply fell asleep, right there in front of us. I’m talking mouth open drooling deep sleep. Only the noise of the landing gear coming down disturbed her slumber. Remarkable!

The hummingbirds, who have entertained us for most of the summer with crazy antics at the feeders, departed for warmer climes yesterday. We shall do the same tomorrow, heading for three weeks in France where we’ll ride the rails from Paris to Lyon to Nice and then Toulon before heading back to Paris and our flight home. France has been very warm and the forecast is for temperatures in the high seventies and eighties. Never thought I’d need short-sleeved shirts in France in October!  À bientôt.  Cindy and William