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