Sunday Reflections: In Love With Lyon
There's something incredibly dorky about policemen on bicycles. Especially bicycles with an infantile cerulean hue rolling slowly in the fresh winter fog. You could probably just walk up and push one over.
I hopped over a fresh mound of dog droppings.
"Wow, the French really don't love picking up after their dogs," I mused.
I caught sight of myself in a passing shop window and scowled at the sight. Frazzled hair, deep eyebags and swollen morning cheeks.
Ahh... We know what's going on here, don't we?
*Gurgle gurgle gurgle*
I rushed through the town, my critical thoughts building as my blood sugar plummeted. After a wistful day prior, I had gone to sleep early, without dinner, and not had the foresight to purchase breakfast. Certainly not ideal for someone with a hanger quite as insidious as mine.
I got to Diploid. I rarely visit the same place twice but I didn't want to take any risks. I ordered pancakes which arrived swiftly. It took me a lengthy 90 seconds to lick the bowl clean and shortly after that, I felt myself again.
You'll notice that I haven't covered the same place twice. I was in Bagnères-de-Luchon and Avignon for 3 days each but they still only got a single entry in this travel log. But Lyon is hitting me differently. Oddly enough, it's not even that special in comparison to the other towns I've been to.
It's young like Toulouse. It's architecturally beautiful like Avignon. It's diverse like Marseille. It's friendly like Bagnères-de-Luchon. But there's something here that keeps drawing me close.
Unfortunately, I wouldn't have much time to see what that feeling was. So I would focus on the old part of town, walking leisurely, and taking photos before heading to my next destination.
This was a good time to think about my reflections for the week, so here they are.
1. I don't miss Portugal
Apart from a few key people, and one key dog, I'm not missing Portugal at all. Though Portugal is fiscally my home, I've been feeling out of place there for some time. So this roadtrip is more than just a frivolous holiday. It's location scouting.
2. French people are nice, actually
Any thorough British upbringing imbues you with the stereotype of the uppety Frenchman, with a signature directness and lack of patience for foreigners. I'm sure people like that exist, but so far, I've encountered very few.
Most French people I've met have been gracious, friendly and welcoming. That includes old ladies walking around the little town in the Pyranees, the young ladies at pole class in Avignon, the local artist in Marseille, and the kidnapper in Lyon. Thems my people.
3. Food presentation matters more than we might think
My Nan, an avid reader of the blog, recently commented that she loves the presentation of the food I'm eating (hi Nana!). I hadn't thought about it before, but the restaurants of France make it easy to devour all in sight. It's all so beautiful and appetising. Even breakfasts are perfectly presented.
I should really pay more attention to my own presentation when doing my own cooking.
And that closes another week on the road. My next stop would take me across borders and into a frosty unknown again. Stay tuned for my experience away from the warm and whimsical embrace of France.
Ta ta for now,
Olivia
