Today’s goal was to familiarize ourselves with the city, and we did so on foot after a light traditional French breakfast of croissants and coffee with milk. We all ate in a group outside, which is a very common practice here – socialization and meal times go hand in hand. Additionally, the mornings are the coolest time of the day currently, as Lyon is in the midst of a heat wave that has sent temperatures soaring up to 37 degrees Celsius (aka 99 degrees Fahrenheit) in the late afternoon/early evening, so enjoying the crisp 25 degrees Celsius (77 degrees Fahrenheit) morning is a must.
After breakfast and a sunscreening session, we left our hostel with a very knowledgeable tri-lingual walking tour guide, and started toward the old quarter of Lyon. On our way, we browsed a local farmer’s market bursting with fresh produce, cheeses, meats, and flower bouquets, as well as a few booths selling a myriad of Lyon-themed merchandise. Here, it is normal to shop daily or every other day at these markets while they are open in the mornings, and only visit grocery stores for goods that cannot be found there or if one needs to shop in the afternoon or evening. The prices are also much lower in the market than in stores, which attracts the financially aware in addition to supporters of the local food movements (similar to the Buy Local campaign in the US).
We spent a lot of time exploring two regions that represented two distinct phases
in Lyonnaise history. Firstly, we walked around the old Roman quarter, which was a hodgepodge of interconnected alleyways approximately a car and half wide. The streets were cobblestone, and all the houses were at least five stories tall and painted warm shades of orange and pink. Each window had adorable wrought-iron window ledges and hanging flower pots, and sounds and smells from nearby cafes and shops wafted through the corridors. It was absolutely gorgeous. In the middle of this area, the streets suddenly converge and open up to make a large square, which draws attention to the massive cathedral (the Cathedral Lyon) seated on the edge of the square closest to the Saone river. After this, we took a trolley up to the top of the hill to another
stunning architectural marvel: the Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière. This minor basilica took seven centuries to complete, and to this day it remains unfinished – one side of the building is bare of carvings, although there are rough stone blocks that were clearly intended to be made into figures of angels and columns at a later time. I am in awe of these places of worship. In a way, they transcend mere religion, mere faith, and are themselves works of art, part of a rare breed of masterpieces that serve a functional purpose.
We finished the day’s scheduled activities atop the other hill in Lyon (you really
can refer to them this way and be understood; aside from these two exceptions, Lyon is relatively flat). This area is the more artsy part of the city. Our guide described it as being the ‘hipster’ part of town, where young people and young families congregate to celebrate a newly founded sense of community. There really isn’t a reason to descend the hill if one lives atop it; it plateaus at its peak, allowing for the existence of a miniature city, complete with a theatre, its own market, laundromat, schools, a surplus of pharmacies (there were seriously pharmacies on every block, which I found very unusual!), and many small restaurants. It was like a microbiome within a greater habitat – a city within a city. And the street art there was certainly unparalleled in lower Lyon! Every exposed wall at street level had been embellished to some degree by the artistic residents of the neighborhood, with everything from cartoons with political undertones to random French phrases to poetry to miniature masterpieces. This hill is also home to the largest mural in Europe, and was too large to fit into a single camera frame – even a panorama!
Later, back in our hostel courtyard, which has quickly become our primary hangout spot, we lounged in the shade, trying to cool ourselves down and get off of our sore legs for a bit. Once everyone had rested and gotten some homework and readings done for class, we split into several groups to find dinner on our own. My group (which included both friends on this trip and friends we met at our hostel) found a bistro across the Rhone river, and I had a little taste of home in the form of grilled salmon. We then meandered back, reveling in the cool night air and admiring the glow of the city lights.
We walked over 20,000 steps today!
Ahhhh, to be in the artsy part of Lyon and see posters that make you ponder….
I’m not one to proselytize my beliefs onto other people, because everyone’s “truth” is true to them. But since you asked about the meaning of the poster, I will spout a bit.
To me, God is everything, seen and unseen, including us. We are facets of God, connected to all the Trinities that exist: the Father Universe of stars, solar systems, physics and chemistry; the Mother Earth that births and grows and lives and dies and radiates the love that glues everything together into concrete form and provides sustenance; and the Child Spirit that is bubbling with energy, emotions, motivation, creativity, and desires. Sometimes our child, our altered ego tries to get the upper hand and ignores our Christ Ego / our Divine Soul which is God / that still, quiet voice of conscience. At times like that we might try to take advantage of others, or seek recognition we don’t deserve, or as we are trying to be responsible human beings we work too much and forget to play or be thoughtful. Then we see a beautiful sunset, or a mountain, or a kitten, or a newborn baby; and our emotion soars, filling our entire body with joy and a sense of wonder and beauty. That feeling of awe gives us a glimpse of What / Who we really are. In those moments, the Divine is reflected in us, because we are connected as One Spirit.
You spent a great deal of time pondering. I would like to hear your thoughts.
Your Mom gave me the link for your blog. I think of her as a very dear friend.
That’s beautiful, Priscilla. Now I have something else to ponder.