l'Opera de Lyon

Sketched this sitting on the grass above the opera house in Lyon. I had a pocket of time before meeting a group from the school for a tour of the Painted Walls of the Croix Rousse. Just as I was about to get  up to go meet everyone around the corner at the Place du Terreaux the skies opened up and started to pour rain. My friend Julie and I felt it was a much better idea to sit on the terrace of the Opera House (on the left here) and watch some live music than to trudge around the rainy city like little ducklings behind our tour guide. Turns out it was an excellent decision, especially since my homework assignment that week was to go see some live entertainment and write an article about it.  Got the article written, avoided the rain, and was rewarded for good decision making with a beautiful display of sunlight on fresh rain-washed rooftops. 

Right now Greg andI i are sitting in the Gare du Nord, waiting to take the train to Brussels where we'll be greeted by our favourite Belgians, Flo and Brieuc. Bye-bye Paris, hello next chapter. 

My Lyonaisse Nest and le Petit prince

Here I sit, sick in bed. 'J'ai attrapé un virus' is the French version. It's an opportunity to stay in bed, and to use my favourite new French expression, 'Rien de tel que...', 'what better to do than...'. I love my little nest here. Note the coffee mug that matches the bedding. 

I picked up this postcard of one of my fave statues here. It must have been shot a while ago, because now the statue is obscured by trees, which makes it even more magical. 

Text under the postcard reads:

When I arrived at the apartment here in Lyon there was a copy of Le Petit Prince waiting for me  on the desk in my room. Lyon is pretty proud of Antoine de Saint-Exupery, who was born and raised Lyonais. And so they should be. I've been reading this book every night here, and when I'm too tired to read, I pull it up on YouTube and some man with a great French speaking voice reads it to me. Part children's book, part philosophy, it's magical. I'll have to pick up a copy of my own. I'm wearing this one out!  When the guide took us to see this statue hidden in the trees at the edge of Place Bellecour (spoiler alert) and told us the story of the demise of Saint-Exupery I had a bit of a teary moments the story of his crash changes a bit depending on who's telling it, but it's always sad. 

Two Favourite Fountains

This city is full of amazing statues and fountains. Yogi, who barks at the former and tries to jump in the latter, would be endlessly stimulated here.  It is pretty spectacular. The other thing they have in abundance is bridges. There are 28 of them connecting la Saunemand le Rhône to the Presqu'isle. During the war the nazis blew out all but two of them.  Now some of the bases are old and beautiful, but the decks are all post WWII.  We had a good look at them on our little river cruise boat on Sunday which, if you find yourself here, is worth taking. 

The text under the postcard reads:
Fontaine Bartholdi
From the same man who brought you the Statue of Liberty, this beauty sits in the "Place des Terreaux". If you could see the whole fountain you'd see a woman (representing France) and four raging horses, each one representing one of the four main rivers of France. It is apparently magnificent in the winter, all iced up. But, if you think I'm going to take 'their' word for it, you don't know me very well ;-). Hello excuse to come back.

The part facing the angels reads:
These little "angelos" adorn the statue at Marechal Lyautey (pronounced somewhere between 'loiter' and 'haughty', which makes a lot of sense after you spend an afternoon here). They each represent something; navigation, commerce, geography. the square, very close to where I'm staying, is pretty live.y. There's a flower shop in one of those beautiful old iron kiosks, and a cafe, and this week there's a boule tourney. It's bocci, but French.

Mouthwatering Wares of Halles Paul Bocuse

It's Sunday. I'm having a bit of a 'lie-in', but theres so much to do, and my two week stay in Lyon that seemed so ample when I arrived is shrinking fast. I'm happy to be finished with school for a couple of days. We only go for a couple of hours a day, but it's enough to get the brain swimming. Bon or bien, mieux or meilliere, pres or proche, rapide or vite, these are the current challenges. I understand the mechanics behind it, but getting it right while you're talking is like effectively adjusting your tire pressure while you're riding along on your bike.

The biggest part of the learning definitely comes between classes, talking with Dominique. And talk, we do!  About everything; kids, men, our childhoods, religion and spirituality, philosophy, France and her history, social issues in both countries, and the merits and shortfalls of Hugo Montenegro's translations of Bob Dylan songs.  Yesterday we went to the Marche Paul Bocuse (he's a very big deal here). I took about a million pictures of the food in the market stalls and we lunched on tiny quenelles floating in marinara and chocolate cakes baked in large dixie cups smothered in a raspberry rhubarb sauce. Afterwards we walked to the art supply store and... Dominique bought herself a paint kit and watercolor paper!  She's been working her way through my book. I felt like a proud parent. As did she when I told her the market was 'bien', but the quenelles were 'bon'.  It's all coming together.

Here are a few of the shots from the market yesterday. Make you hungry?

Afterwards we came home for some lunch, then drove up to Fourviere in the rain. Apparently you can see the alps from there, but not yesterday.  We could just barely see the rooftops of Lyon. It was beautiful though. The view is spectacular, as is the basilique. Standing inside, it was the first time in my life I've looked at something and thought it held the same kind if exquisite complex beauty as the mechanics of the human body.  Or maybe a dinosaur skeleton.  It looked like it could run or fly. Every centimeter is either delicately carved or part of a complicated mosaic. It is really unbelievable. And just enough sunlight came out as we left to make the golden virgin standing on her tower shine. Beautiful.

Another day of adventure awaits. Time to get to it.

Deux Lits Sur Rue Duguesclin

Woke up early this morning and decided to sketch the view from my bed (again). I've been finding it hard to sleep in the mornings because the light fills the room way before its time to get up. When Dominique saw how industrious I'd been in the morning, she realized I didn't know there were shutters outside the windows. She showed me how they work, and tonight I'll sleep like I'm in a tomb. Thank God. One more night on 4-5 hours and I won't be speaking ANY language. 

Text says:

Funny that in a city of half a million people both places I'm staying here in Lyon are on the same street. The first, chez Berenger, had this knock-out view! The second, chez Dominique, is absolutely magical. My bedroom looks onto a very typical Lyonnaise building with its tile roof, wood valances and little iron balconies. 

The two hills are called "la Colline qui Prie" and "la Colline qui Travaille"; the hill that prays and the hill that works. Fourviere, of course, has the basilica, and Croix Rousse is where all the silk workers lived and worked. 

I went on a guided walking tour of the presqu'isle with the school yesterday. The history of this place is so interesting, with hills that work and pray, male and female rivers that surge together, church and commerce that have a 'mine is bigger than yours' fight on a hilltop (The Tour Metalique was built to trump the Basilique, by a whopping 2 feet. Take that, church folk!)

Une Guide Parfait

I'm starting to get my bearings here. Berenger had to go out to help a friend move this morning, so I had the apartment to myself. As much as I could have sat and stared at that amazing view for a month without getting bored, I decided to head out and find La Parc de le Tête d'Or. How ideal, arriving here on a Sunday. There were joggers and cyclists, lovers, tourists, and little families scattered all over the grass with picnic baskets. The way the park is laid out, you catch little glimpses through the trees of all the different attractions. There was an old-style carousel with music and painted ponies, botanical gardens, an idyllic lake with row boats. I came around one corner and looked up to see these giraffes almost camouflaged against a sun dappled wood building.  Surprises everywhere. 

I know I'll be back here, to sketch and to rent one of the little boats and have a paddle around the lake, but it was time to head back, get my stuff and head to Mme Guider's apartment where I'll stay for the next two weeks. 

I couldn't have landed with a better host.  Mme Guider, Dominique, is lovely, as is her home. She's an excellent guide (her last name even means guide!).  We had so much to talk about right away.   Her home is full of books and art, and little poems beautifully written on tiny cards tucked in all over the place. She took me on a walking tour of the city, explaining the geography, history and cultural significance of everything, loaded me up with good French books (like Le Petit Prince) and cooked me an incredible meal.  She speaks very clearly and is so interesting that I'm finding I'm able to understand her without too much difficulty.  By the time I tucked into my adorable little antique bed covered in toile de jouy fabric I was exhausted, stuffed, and 'tres content'. 

'Bound' for France!

 Oh how I love my new sketchbook!  I made it (with the help of this youtube video) using an old French hardcover book I bought for 25 cents at the Centre Culturel Francaise here in Vancouver.  I recovered it with this gilt brocade paper I bought at Opus on Vancouver Island, and filled it with my favourite watercolour paper, some solid coloured paper for line drawings, and a fun collection of patterned papers that I have no idea yet what I'll do with.  That, I suppose, is part of the adventure. 

I've been planning this book, and this trip, for months now.  Some little bug climbed into my ear about a year ago and said "Hey, Canadian girl, it's time you really learned how to speak French".   I signed up for a French class at the Cultural Centre here in Vancouver, found a language buddy to practice with (bonjour Florence!) and started listening to 'Learn French by Podcast' everyday on my endless jaunts to and from our stores.   

 Voila, un an plus tard, here I am prepping and packing for my big French adventure!  It's the pay-off for a year of hard work.  I leave this Friday (only two more sleeps!) and arrive in Lyon the following day.  I'll spend two weeks there doing a language immersion course that I found at Cactus Language Training.  When that's done, I'll meet my husband Greg in Paris for another couple weeks of adventure.  It's been so fun to plan.  All of our accommodations are either through airbnb or homeexchange.com.  Not a single night in a hotel in over a month of travel!

I'm pretty much packed, thanks in part to the fab blog HiP Paris, and am so excited.   I'll try my best to sketch and post as I go.

A bien tot!