Tag: walking in Lyon

Another Caffeinated Adventure

May 25

Dear Liza,

The other day, Bridgett and I set out on a simple quest. I wanted a new Journal to use when the one I am using fills up, which will be in a week or so.

Being a diligent art supply shopper, Bridgett had done the research and knew the closest shop to try. We walked across the Rhône just past the Lyon Opera House, to Géant. There we found an 8.5 by 11 inch, spiral bound, multi-media quality journal that will hold my next batch of memories, clippings, and art doodlings.

By then, it was after 10 a.m., and we needed snacks. Loutsa Coffee was just a few blocks away by the Saône, and they had carrot cake and espresso for me and blackberry cheesecake and café crème for Bridgett.

We decided NOT to have a big adventure that day, just a small walk across the Saône to St. Paul’s, the only church in the Old Town that we hadn’t been into yet. We wound through the medieval streets and found it, set low, where ‘ground level’ was in the year 549, when it was built. Yes, that three digit number is a year.

It is showing its age, but is mostly in good repair. It wasn’t open when we were there, but Mass schedules were posted, so it is still in use. The history here goes very deep.

We were disappointed at not getting to see the inside, but knew there would be other things to see. We figured we would walk to the next bridge, cross back over, and head for home.

That didn’t happen.

Because we looked up. Straight above us, built into the bedrock of the butte that forms The Hill that Prays, were Roman arches, bridges and walls.

“We’ve got to go up there!” I’m sure the caffeine and sugar from our yummy snack affected our judgement, but all that history was RIGHT THERE!

Of course there were stairs, and I stopped every now and then to breathe and to greet the running fanatics who were doing laps up and down. The shade and modern handrails set into the Roman wall were a godsend.

We kept seeing ancient walls and arches, either used as foundations, or quietly left in the undergrowth. For a modern-day kid from Southern California, this was special.

When we got to the top, we were pretty close to the place we had NOT been heading to, the Loyasse Cemetery. This wonderful old necropolis, kept secret by its inconvenient location and its ban on photography (I took this picture from outside the wall) was as lovely as the Père La Chaisse in Paris, and lot less messy and crowded. We spent an hour wandering in the perfect silence of the hilltop.

As usually happens at this point in an adventure, having reached the top, we realized how hungry we were and needed to head toward sustenance.

We followed staircases heading straight down and tiny roads that wound between steep walls.

We stopped at a tiny grocery for cheese, fruit, and an emergency back-up Snickers bar, and ate on a bench by the road, feeling pretty good about our adventure. Further down, we nearly tripped over another chunk of Rome, five burial monuments erected around 27 A.D.

Romans, all over the place! Leaving giant carved bits of their lives and culture. Amazing.

When we got home, Bridgett’s AppleWatch said we had walked 7.59 miles and gone up 27 flights of stairs. So far, that’s a record. Tomorrow, we rest a bit.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Back up the Hill that Prays Part 2

May 21

Dear Liza,

After a life-saving snack of cake and coffee at the Café Bacatá , Bridgett and I headed back to the museum, while Grandpa Nelson headed back towards home.

As with every museum in Lyon, the Museum of Marionette Arts was more than I imagined. It covered centuries of puppetry from all over the world, and how people have created marionettes from almost any material.

Wood, bone, cloth, clay, papier-mâché and even plastic bags can become animated characters, given a proper puppeteer.

The displays were delightfully thorough and creative.

We enjoyed old TV footage of a very French take on The Muppets (political satire, but my French isn’t good enough to know exactly about what).

After the museum, we headed off to see more of the Old Town. Some lovely old churches were closed, so we decided to head back UP the hill and find the Roman baths that we had overlooked on our visit to the Roman Theater.

So we went up, up lanes and up stairways, ramps, and alleys. Fortunately, a light drizzle started and kept us cooled off. See that red tower in the top of the picture? When we got to that building, we were almost there.

And after covering the same block five times, we found them, tucked behind apartment blocks with tiny “Propertie Privé” signs. Les Thermes Antiques, where Romans in the early 100s AD came to soak and socialize. A bit the worse for 2000 years of wear and tear, but amazing, anyway.

And, having come, seen, and photographed, we headed back down the hill.

All the streets and stairs were friendlier going down, and in no time we were at the Rhône, skipping on the fun promenades and crossing bridges dedicated to famous Ecumenical philosophers.

The last 46 steps of any journey are the hardest, the steps up to our apartment from street level. But what a day! History, puppetry, physical challenges, cake, espresso, a little rain, and a lot of fun.

Love,

Grandma Judy

More Tête d’Or

May 16

Dear Liza,

One of the best things about having a long stay in a wonderful city like Lyon is that you can visit your favorite places more than once.

We have been back to the Parc de la Tête d’Or four times, and keep finding new things! Miniature golf. Free Range deer. Climby ropey things.

And today, we found the Buvette de l’Observitoire, where they serve all sorts of lunches, desserts, and drinks. Auntie Bridgett and I shared a ricotta chou sucré, where ricotta cheese and pistachio cream are blended together and put inside a sweet bun. SO good! I also enjoyed a cider and Grandpa Nelson had some rosé.

We also found several new ways to get lost on the way to the Orangerie, discovering a bunch of peony beds that are blooming like crazy.

There was also some crazy turtle convention going on in one of the ponds.

By the time we got home, we had walked more than five miles…. And we do this A LOT. We could walk the park every day all summer and see something different every day.

117 hectares is a lot of park!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Walking Along the Berges du Rhône

May 3

Dear Liza,

In case you are wondering, yes, there is a two day lag between the day I do something and the day I write about it. I can’t seem to get a blog written the same day I do the things! I guess I need processing time.

The other day Auntie Bridgett and I wanted to explore, and decided to go hunting for the Rhône again. We walked due west again and found Place du Maréchal Lyautey, where fellows were still playing pétanque and the fountain was spouting.

But instead of turning around, we made a sharp right turn and followed the path along the river.

This path is really three paths, at different levels. The street level has lots of traffic, and is not for us. The next one down is a bit quieter and has mostly bikes on it. And the third paved path, closest to the river, is mostly walkers. And dogs.

On this path, we were just a few yards from the Rhône River, and we saw yet another path… a dirt one that weaves in and out of the trees that grow on the banks.

I was so overcome at where we were, what we were walking beside, and how lovely it all was, that I barely noticed this super friendly Doberman dashing about like a kid just out of school. Everyone was enjoying all the dog joy she was sharing.

We continued along the river, cool and comfortable in the shade of the Plane and Cottonwood trees, until we reached Rue de Les Belges. This very busy street forms the south edge of the Parc de la Tête d’Or, that we visited the other day. There was another grand gate into the parc, a carrousel, and a monument to local men who had died in the First World War.

We were a bit winded, having come more than a mile, so we stopped for a snack bar and some water. It was time to head home, taking the route through town, to pick up some wine and ice cream… more about that later.

And of course, we ran into some more art! This statue of Joan of Arc (called Jean d’Arc in this part of the world) was sculpted in 1928 by Jean Chorel. Auntie Bridgett has become fascinated by Joan and her story, and she just keeps turning up.

We got home for dinner, and we had brought the ice cream and wine in hopes that Grandpa Nelson could enjoy some of his birthday, but no luck. He got up long enough to eat and have a glass, chat with you and the family, and head right back to bed.

Tomorrow will show improvement, I am sure.

Love,

Grandma Judy