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This morning, I woke up extra late after staying up to watch (as much as I could) of the National Championship baseball game. Since it started at 6pm at home, that meant it began at 1am here. Roy so far has pulled three sleepless nights in a row. As late as I woke up, however, I felt I still needed to be productive, and ventured out past my little nook of Vieux Lyon (not after having a cappuccino and crepe at Cafe' de la Ficelle though). Two rivers pass through Lyon, the Rhone and the Soane. On most mornings the markets set up along the quays (streets) along the rivers. It's just one of the many things I love about France. I love the lazy way of life, I love not owning a car, I love that walking into someone's cafe or shop is like walking into someone's home, which means you greet them first before anything else. Of course, it goes without saying, I love that the main focus in French culture is solely around food. I've read that the French spend more of their annual income on food than anything else. One thing that makes French cuisine so tasty is because the French normally stick to cooking food that is currently in season, and right now, it's raspberry season!
So continuing my walk across the bridge, I came upon a bustling market. As it was already noon, many vendors were beginning to pick up. There was quite a bit still out, though. I smiled as I walked through, taking in all the beautiful sights. Produce of bright orange carrots, red yellow and green peppers, onions, potatoes, garlic, broccoli, cauliflower, and fresh snap beans all lined rows and rows of tables. Then came more tables full of different types of fruits, but mostly taken up by crimson cherries, red-orange strawberries, and even deeper-red raspberries. The sight was too tempting, and 2 Euro for a crate full of raspberries was just too good to pass up. As I walked along, I began to wonder what the decomposing odor was that was so strong, and realized I was passing the cheese stand. I just appreciated the fromage and all its exotic varieties, but happily continued on. The butcher shops made me feel somewhat inadequate as I realized that I knew nothing about picking out all the different cuts of meats.
Finally, I purchased a load of potatoes and a loaf of bread and made my way back up to our apartment. Inspired by all the French cuisine and my market experience, I decided to get a little fancy with lunch by incorporating my fresh raspberries. I made mashed potatoes with my recent purchase and cooked pork chops in beef bouillon in another pan. In a separate pan, I made my first fruit sauce, creating a syrup from boiled sugar and water then mashing my raspberries into it. Immediately it turned into a perfect glaze with a rich, sweet aroma. I spread it over the pork chops, creating the tastiest, most satisfying meal I've made yet in Lyon. Tomorrow we leave for Paris, where more culinary delights await!
As I've attempted to describe before, the area at the bottom of our hill is called Vieux Lyon (Old Lyon) and is a surviving Renaissance style village area. Butchers still have a statue of a cow on the top of their shop, for those not permitted to an education, and knew they could buy bouef (beef) within. Shop keepers keep their doors open, and locals lazily sip on their demitasse of espresso and people watch ( a behavior I've taken a liking to). This is laissez-faire attitude of Vieux Lyon.
This is the backdrop in which I choose to surround myself every morning.
My favorite cafe of choice would be Le Ficelle. This is a corner shop right next to the metro station that (like every cafe or bouchon) has more tables outside on the sidewalk than inside of the cafe itself. I like this cafe' because they have the best cappuccino that I have yet discovered in Lyon. It comes in a large glass as opposed to a demitasse shot. The foam is also delicious, as it is mixed with coco powder. La Ficelle also has delicious crepes with generous portions of nutella! Though we don't speak the same language, the owner has gotten to know me as the American girl who comes in during the late hours of the morning to enjoy cappuccinos and reading. She is very hospitable, and patient with me as I struggle over the most common of French phrases. This morning I spent a nice hour there reading and people-watching inside, since it was a little too cool and breezy for the outside air.
The other cafe' I enjoy solely because of its location. The cappuccino is alright, but small. It is located at the west side of the St. Jean Cathedral plaza. The plaza is an open area with a fountain (described earlier) in the middle. It is surrounded by old apartments and a primary school (which looks nothing like a school, but is consistently ringing with the yelling voices of over-active French children), cafes, and the large Cathedral at the head. This is the cafe' for people watching. As the St. Jean plaza is the hub of passer-byers in Vieux Lyon, one can sit for hours and enjoy a parade of tourists, shoppers, small business owners going to work, teens getting out for lunch, lovers enjoying the freedom of accepted p.d.a. behavior, and school children all adorned in similar colored hats escorted by teachers on what seems like daily field trips. There is always an order to the commotion, and it's often more difficult to concentrate on a book here, as there is always some distraction to divert my eyes.
This is my typical Lyonnais morning. It usually concludes with a reluctance to get up and continue the day, and then a stop by the local market to pick up a baget for lunch (which usually runs less than a Euro!). After that, it's a card swipe through the metro, a one minute ride up the funicular cable car, and a two minute walk down to the apartment to cook lunch and wait for my student roommates to return. This lazy way of life has me fearing the future, when I will return to a grueling schedule of waking up at 5:30 am, driving twenty minutes on a crowded interstate, and spending the rest of the day hard at work. But for now, I must embrace the present, and every new adventure it brings.
P.S.- Novel of current read in the picture: A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle. If this blog doesn't give an accurate enough description of the French lifestyle, this book surely will. It's a fun, relaxing read for a lazy afternoon.
"A course for everyone! Min age 14" This is what our brochure on canyoning advertised about the Grimsel course we had chosen. You think to yourself, "hey, course for everyone, I can do that." And then they drop you off in the middle of the road on the side of a cliff and tell you to rappel down a seventeen story (160 feet?) drop. "Course for everyone? Yeah, everyone with a death wish," I thought.
I looked at the way down, convincing myself that it wasn't that high, that people do this every day, and that it was totally safe. Most of these proved true (it really WAS that high). The guides were very professional, double checking our harnesses and the ropes, then explaining to us what we were to do. Just put all your weight on the rope and walk down backwards. You can hold on to the rope attached to the harness if you want to. I held on the entire time. Once finally submitting all my weight to the harness, and all my trust to the Outdoor-Interlaken guides, I took a few steps back feeling very comfortable, and posed for a picture. The rappel down went surprisingly smooth and steady. I just kept holding the rope, moving my feet, and repeating the words "okay, okay, okay, okay," like a broken record until I was safely down. There was one point where the incline changed, surprising my feet, and causing me to look down thinking "I must be done!" I wasn't...I was half-way. "Okay, okay, okay, okay." Soon enough, voices cheering me on were audible. I made Roy go before me so I'd have him down there to encourage me. It would have been okay if I'd have gone first, though, as everyone in our group was incredibly encouraging and uplifting for each other the entire time. The entire LSU law group signed up for canyoning, and we were divided into two groups of 12-15 people. Meanwhile, I'm continuing my chant reassuring myself that I was "okay" and soon enough I was met with two feet of the coldest water I had ever felt. I was somewhat still shocked at what I had done, and just happy to be on the ground, that my mind hadn't put together the movements to get myself up, and Roy came to help me up from my supine position in two feet of water. I hugged him and made some comment about how "that better be the worst thing we have to do." And it pretty much was. I guess they just scare you in the beginning to see what they're working with the rest of the trip.
We tracked along the gliding (at a few points rushing) water to our next adventure points in the course. The first was a natural water slide where you slide off of a boulder into a deep pool of churning water. The first immersion into the water (and I guess the ones that followed) was completely shocking, and took your breath away for a second, your body not able to believe the icy coldness it has been plunged into. This is water that not long ago was a glacier resting on the mountain tops of the Alps. It hadn't warmed up that much on its trip down.
The rest of the canyoning voyage brought us through more slides, a few high jumps, and a zip line that you held on to until our guide yelled "LET GO", plunging you into the bottom pool. As nervous as I was about that part, it probably was the most fun. We ended the adventure with a group picture, feeling closer to our friends than we ever were before, bonded by raw emotions and support that came out through the trip. We went to a nearby field and changed, trembling, out of our wetsuits (with our swimsuits underneath) to dry clothes we were wearing on the way up. I don't think my clothes ever stank so much, but at that point, not many people cared. Hot chocolate, beer, and Swiss cheese on bread awaited us at the home base shack upon our return. Everyone devoured the offerings while sitting down to watch a slide show of the pictures taken along the course. I believe this is good marketing, as after seeing your pictures, you're more than willing to pay 38 CHF (Swiss Fancs- about 35 US dollars) for a cd full of the pictures. We all rode home cold, full, and with a boost of self-confidence. It had been a good day...and I probably will never do anything that extreme in my life again.
This past weekend we traveled to Interlaken, Switzerland. After waiting on an hour delay, we swapped trains in Geneva, then again in Bern, and then finally arrived in Interlaken- the adventure sport capital of the world. Here, tourists have the option to go sky diving, river rafting, canyon jumping, paragliding, hang gliding, canyoning, and any other activity that involves a rush of adrenaline. We decided the best option was canyoning, since we prefer to not tempt fate TOO much. But that is for the next blog.
This trip was different from our other weekend trips in that we were with a large group of the lsu law students for the majority of the trip. This was nice as it allowed Roy and I to meet (or get closer to) those people from other sections that we didn't know before. There was a great cohesion to the group, as everyone had no problem agreeing on Hooters as our first meal in Switzerland since we got in so late, and nothing else was open (nothing that anyone knew of- but Hooters was just bound to be open!). This Swiss Hooters was much more over-priced, and not quite as tasty (though I realize American Hooters does not set the bar high either).
The next morning we woke up early and went canyoning (which is an adventure fully deserving of its own blog entry). After worn out from canyoning, everyone was excited to get clean and get warm. We did this, grabbed a quick bite of pizza, and headed over to watch the LSU-Arkansas beating at a lounge that had only opened last week for the first time. This place was run by the most hospitable bar owner we're sure to meet this trip. Her place almost resembled a living room, with various black leather couches positioned around the TV, and gave the feeling like we were watching the game at a friend's home. The Swiss owner, who told us she used to live in New York City, was the perfect host- filling baskets with delicious chips and placing pints of peanuts on the tables. At the fear of not seeing the whole game due to the long rain delay and time difference, the owner agreed to stay open past closing and turn our event into a "private party" as she put the sign on the door. The room was overflowing with people (and rather hot since air conditioning is a rarity in Europe), but it was great to enjoy LSU baseball among friends and fans.
The next day we woke up, aching with every movement from the day before, and decided to take today slow. We went down to meet others, and laughed at those in our group signing up for white water rafting or canyon jumping. Our plan only involved one extreme activity: an extreme massage. Before this, though, we needed to get refueled. A small group of us walked to Hotel Tell for Switzerland's tradition dish, rosti. Rosti is a plate of potatoes in the form of soft hashbrowns that have been mixed with swiss cheese, bacon, onions, and topped with a friend egg. It was delicious and filling, but I could not finish it all. I felt bad for this, as the Swiss seriously look down upon anyone who does not finish their entire plate. If they don't appreciate wasted food, maybe they should decrease their portion sizes! Now fully prepared for the day, we set off to see the city of Interlaken. We came across the elegant Hotel Victoria Jungfrau, where we had heard about the promise of an impressive spa. We had not been lied to, and Roy and I booked appointments for that afternoon. After that we enjoyed the afternoon breathing in the luxuries in Switzerland- the view, and the chocolate. We sat for a while in a park that gave a great view of the Alps on all sides. This is where the paragliding landing area was, so the group of us watched and tried to imagine ever being crazy enough to try it. Landing and being safe on the ground seemed like the only enjoyable part to me. We then walked over to a chocolatier and bought some Swiss chocolate, then sat for a glass of hot chocolate. The hot chocolate was welcome, as it had been a cold, rainy weekend. This was no Swiss Miss -it was served in a tall glass, with the chocolate poured in at the bottom, and steamed milk resting on the top. Once you mixed it all together, the drink was complete and ready to be devoured...which it was in a matter of seconds.
The spa was nicer than we even imagined, ranking in the top 50 Hotel Spas in the world!!! I was given an option of light color, music, and aroma before receiving my massage, which was the perfect solution to our soreness situation. After the massage, a relaxation and sauna room was available. The sauna room was especially cool, as there was a steam sauna, a dry sauna, a crushed ice maker to be used to cool off (I actually used the ice for my water as well- classy), and a vapor shower. The vapor shower consisted of a regular shower where you could press a button to induce drops of hot tropical vapor, making it smell like someone had bottled the scents of the Bahamas, and dumped them on your head. It was interesting.
Refreshed and relaxed, it was hard to tackle on another night of partying that the rest of the group had planned. Roy and I instead opted for cheese fondue and an early bedtime. We woke up early, and unwillingly got on the train back to Lyon, with the light ahead that reminded us....we'd be in Paris next weekend!
Yesterday afternoon Roy and I decided to head up the hill to see what else Lyon had to offer. Passing the Roman ruins, we went to the Ancient Roman museum, which was cool because most of the stuff in it was found here in Lyon. After that, we took another short walk even further up the hill to the highest point in Lyon, the location of the Notre Dame Basilica. I don't think I will even be able to come close in describing the beauty of this church, and the 103 pictures I took can't even do it enough justice.The basilica is HUGE, all white with four towers on each side, visible from most areas in the city since it's the highest spot on the hill. There's a word they use to describe it that translates into upside-down elephant, since that's kind of what it look likes from afar. One we walked in, I was amazed by the beauty of the ceilings first, then Roy informed me that we weren't even in the actual church, we were in a chapel underneath the church. The chapel alone was the size of usual churches I'm accustomed to. Once we took the stairs up to the actual church, Roy and I were both stunned into silence upon walking into the basilica. The entire inside is made up of gold and blue and various mosaics. It looked like something from the inside of a rich palace. Unfortunately, the lighting made it pretty difficult to take pictures, but I tried my best. Aside from mosaics on the wall, the entirety of the floor is mosaic, as well as the three main depictions on the very high ceiling. Along the sides were large ornate columns that were topped by various saints.The story behind the basilica is that it resulted from a time of famine in France around four hundred years ago. The community prayed to Mary to end the famine, and when it was over they built the basilica in thanksgiving.
The most amazing sight we can see on our walk down the hill from our apartment is the grandiose Cathedral St. Jean. It is the focal point of the Vieux Lyon area, with a cobblestone plaza in front of it. Within the plaza there is a fountain of what I think is supposed to be the baptism of John the Baptist. The inside of the church is completely amazing. If I knew more about ancient architecture I would be better equipped to write this blog, but alas, I do not, so this blog may be somewhat lacking in painting the best picture of the church. From what I've learned, it took centuries to complete, finally finished in the fifteenth century (or so sources say- I ,however, had to position my camera to miss the scaffolding at the top corner of the cathedral, so apparently work is not 
complete). The cathedral is like many medieval churches in the sense that it has many side areas and chapels along both sides of the church. These nooks have huge beautiful paintings of religious events and saints, as well as various statues and places to light candles for offerings. Also like most older churches, the front makes a cross, with two main side sections. Both sections contain pipe organs, though one looks much older than the other. Also, one of the side sections contains one of St. Jean's more notable features, the fourteenth century astronomical clock. I'm not exactly sure what it does (besides chimes), but it looks pretty cool. My personal favorite part of St. Jean is the stained glass windows that adorn the church. There is a large circular one on the front (which actually makes the cathedral somewhat resemble the Notre Dame Cathedral), and various stained glass windows running along the sides and top of the church.
Roy and I celebrated Mass at the cathedral last Sunday. Though it was (so far) the most beautiful church I had ever attended Mass in....I have absolutely no clue what was said the entire time. (I am currently only on lesson number three in my French lessons). Luckily, being Catholic means the ceremony isn't changed up too often so I at least knew which part of the Mass we were in. The main differences (aside from it being in all French) were the kneelers and the music. Kneeling in this church actually is a sacrifice, as the kneelers (if even present in your pew) were wooden instead of padded. Oddly enough, much of the congregation just skipped the kneeling altogether. The music was absolutely amazing!!! Angelic really, just to be cliche'. It was a children's choir made up of what must have been 6-9 year olds. This wasn't your typical children's choir that meets one practice a year and sings at a special monthly or annual children's Mass (though those are great too). These were practiced young voices all on pitch and in harmony accompanied by a pipe organ. It was my favorite thing about going to Mass there. I feel so lucky to be in such close quarters to such an amazing place. Getting to 
visit such old and majestic churches is one of the best experiences of this trip.
P.S. King Henry IV was married here!
This past weekend we took a one night weekend trip to Nice (pronounced like niece). Though somewhat of a spontaneous decision, it was a good one. The train ride from Lyon to Nice was about four and a half hours, but actually went by pretty quickly. Nice is located on the southern coast of France right after Cannes and right before Monaco then Italy. It never matters how long a train ride is, because you are too busy looking out of the window at the breathtaking scenery to notice time passing. With about an hour left of the ride, Roy and I saw our first glimpse of the coast. It was amazing- we had never seen water that beautiful before. It suddenly became quite obvious why the French Riviera is regarded with such attention.
We arrived in Nice around four to five in the afternoon. Though the sun doesn't actually go down until around ten p.m. here, we decided to wait on swimming until the next day. We did enjoy the beach that night though by walking along the Promenade de Anglais that runs along the beach itself. The promenade is home to many sight-seers, runners, cyclists, roller-bladers, and dogs enjoying a view of the coast. Although, our travel book advised us to be there at night, as this is when the "thugs and prostitutes" enjoy the promenade. Luckily though, night isn't until around ten p.m., as earlier stated, so we had enough worry-free hours to spend on the promenade. Across from the promenade is a street, then a line of rich and beautiful hotels alternating with various restaurants containing (as most in France do) an outside dining area in front of the restaurant. Roy and I had our first uninteresting meal then went on a walk to ice cream. Ice cream vendors are about as prevalent as the wine in France. We walked down one street in Nice that had no less than three ice cream shops. You pretty much have to stop in one. After getting our dessert, Roy and I walked back to the promenade and sat on a bench and people-watched the rest of the evening. We were sitting in front of a hang-glyding spot, so it was fun watching them propel people into the air and living vicariously through their adventure, knowing full well we'd never have the guts to ever do it ourselves.
The next morning we woke up, picked up some apple pastries, and headed to the beach. The beaches in the French Riviera are different from those I've ever seen at home in three main ways: 1. The water is a resplendent clear shade of aqua-marine unlike anything the gulf has ever offered. 2. No sand- only rocks. On the dry part of the shore the rocks are bigger (ranging from the size of walnuts to a size larger than my fists). Once you get closer to where the tide comes in they are reduced to smaller pebbles the size of fava beans. 3. Tops for women are completely optional. Though the majority of Nice swimmers kept theirs on, there were your handfuls of much older women who preferred to go sans bikini top. These three culminating factors made for an interesting, yet enjoyable scenic visit. Going into the water was an intense experience as well. It actually took me two tries. On the first try I walked over with my flip flops on, got them full of pebbles when trying to get in the water, then was given a cold shock when the water came up to my knees as I was battling with my flip flops. At that point I gave up and headed back to our 10 Euro towels we bought (one of which was left by SOMEONE on the taxi back to the train station). After laying out and getting too hot to remain sitting on the shore, I tried the water again. Though leaving the flip flops behind was a painful experience, it was worth it not having to deal with them and just be able to leap into the water. The Mediterranean is alarmingly cold at first, but once you immerse yourself and begin swimming around, the coolness actually becomes welcome. Roy finally decided to join me and we spent a good bit of the afternoon swimming. Once you're in the water, you never want to get out. We only got out when we saw a jelly fish drifting towards us...which turned out to be a vicious looking piece of plastic.
Overall, it was a pleasant weekend trip that was more than worth the four hour train ride and stone bruised feet. Next weekend: Switzerland!
This morning while Roy was in class, I took the opportunity to explore the older areas of Lyon. The city was first began on the Fourviere Hill, and was the capitol of Roman Gaul. Because of this, there are still Roman ruins at the top of the hill. After feeling like a waste from waking up past 11:30, I decided to take the climb up to explore and reaffirm my self-worth after waking up so late. Apparently this is field trip time for the surrounding schools because I saw many groups of children touring the area and running away from their chaperons, shouting in joyful bursts of French. The area consists of two coliseums, one smaller one next to a larger one. There are remnants of stacks of stones that seem like they may have once formed little rooms. Right now they have a large stage set up in preparation for Nuits de Fourivere a summer nights like event that hosts many different shows, concerts, operas, and performances. I looked through the program and saw they would be showing performances like West Side Story (which unfortunately will probably be all in French), La Traviata, Tracy Chapman, Blur, and a few other interesting shows. I may have to make it a point to attend one of these, unless they are only weekends (as weekends are our travel time out of Lyon). While I was wandering around, though, I was treated to a rehearsal by some French group consisting of a band and a lead male and female vocal. Tired from the climb up, it was a welcome break to sit on the steps and enjoy some free music. When I was content, I made the walk back down to our apartment so that Roy would be able to get in after he was done with classes. Tonight we are attending a cocktail party that the law school is throwing for everyone, and will probably go out with everyone for our friend's birthday. More adventures to come!
Well, here we go. Roy and I began our trip in Dublin, Ireland on June 3rd. We are now in Lyon, France, but due to wanting to pack as much into three full days as possible in Ireland, I am just now sitting down to start this blog. We were incredibly lucky in Ireland, as we only had rain today- the day of our departure. I told Roy that Ireland was crying because we were leaving. I was also pretty sad to be leaving Ireland...but am of course excited about the trips to come.
Dublin- Day 1
Our first day in Dublin consisted mainly of walking around and seeing the city. A beautiful sight there is the Liffey River in the center of town, with the Ha'Penny and other bridges going across it. Roy told me it was called that because it was the first bridge to get across and it cost half of a penny to cross. This area could be considered the life of the city. There are many shops and restaurants surrounding it, with a memorial on every corner or center of street. This is also where the 1916 rebellion occurred at the General Post Office. The dinner I had in that area was the best I had in Ireland, mainly due to the atmosphere. We sat upstairs in lounge chairs next to a window looking out on the center of town. The room was decorated like someone's home, with a huge wooden bookcase full of books across from a fireplace. St. Patrick's Cathedral was also another highlight from our first day in Dublin. Contrary to popular belief, this is not a Catholic church. It started out as one, but was reformed to Church of Ireland (Anglican) some time during the Reformation. Other than its grandeur and its beauty, this was a really exciting trip for me because of all the artifacts of Jonathan Swift- most importantly his grave. I still can't believe I actually got to stand in the place where Swift is buried! The stained glass windows were also extremely beautiful. The church is neat because it is actually built in the shape of a cross, with smaller chapels on the left and right, and an ornate altar at the head.
Dublin- day two The next day we went around with friends from Law School to explore the city. That day we visited Kilmanum Gaol (jail), where many of the rebels in the 1916 uprising were executed. We also went around Grafton Street. This street is known for its shopping. Though I like shopping, it wasn't hard to pass up shops like Channel and Lacoste....but I did want to stop in Clarks. Though Grafton Street is home to many exquisite stores, local musicians have also found a place there. (Almost like people playing in the French Quarter in New Orleans....but not quite the same). If anyone has ever seen the movie Once, this was where the main character stood and played guitar. If you haven't seen this movie, it is not your typical hollywood film, but still very worth watching, especially for the music. That night we stopped in a few pubs and walked around more. I now wish I would have kept a running number of the pubs we went to while in Ireland, though I am keeping a food and drink photo journal. We also went to the coast of the country one day, to a little town called Bray. This place offered the best view we saw in the country, with pebble shores meeting greeeeeeen mountains. Though it was extremely cold, it was an experience I couldn't have missed. A resident of Bray (who had actually been to Louisiana and did not think highly of Slidell for some reason) pointed out a village in the distance off a mountain where he said Bono and Enya have houses.
Dublin- Day 3 The hands-down best experience I had there, though, was our last night in Ireland. Roy and I found a pub that is mostly visited by locals. After two pints of Bulmers (Irish cider, called Magners everywhere else- possibly the best drink in the world) and a pint of Guinness, we were ready for some music. In a smaller room near the front of the pub, there were about fifteen people aging from 20-80 having a "trad session," short for traditional (Irish) jam session. They were playing traditional instruments such as uilleann pipes (like bagpipes, without the blowing), Irish drum, fiddles, accordions, a guitar and banjo, and various flutes. The result was some of the best music that could make any day better. I tried to take a video with my camera, but the sound didn't work, which is really sad. My best way to describe it is, again, through film. If you've ever seen Titanic (I know, I know) there is a scene in the bottom decks of the boat where they are playing traditional Irish music and dancing. Now multiply that fun level by a hundred and take out Leonardo DiCaprio, and you come somewhat close to the sound of it all. This was the best way to finish my stay in Ireland. Now I am in Lyon, France, which will be our home-base for the next couple of months while Roy attends class Monday-Thursday. (That's right......a different trip each three day weekend!) The adventure begins..... P.S.- Posts will not always be this lengthy, as I had to cover an entire country all in one post.
