Lyon, France: Liberty and Her 4 Horses on LSD

           I must admit I am getting quite used to the incredibly long journeys I have so frequently been making across the European continent. Over the past 3 weekends, I have spent a whopping 30 hours in trains. London and back? 10 hours. Brussels and back? 10 hours. Lyon and back? That’s right, 10 hours. Add that to the number of hours I spend on the train during the week, and I could swear I am the European rail system’s best and most frequent traveler. So, by the time my train pulled into Lyon Perrache at 11:30pm last Friday night, I was no longer phased by the fact that I was probably not fit to be seen in public.

Fête des Lumières in Lyon

            Let me backtrack here one second here. The entire purpose of this trip to Lyon was for yet another miniature UVa reunion. (You might be surprised at how many there are of us over here!) Victoria and I were to go down for the weekend to visit our friend Alix, who currently studies at SciencesPo in Lyon, but who had studied abroad at UVa last year. She lives with another French girl, Elodie, who also spent last year in Charlottesville. In turn, Elodie had another friend, Kristina, yet another Cavalier, coming in from Paris as well.

As my day at school on Friday wound down, excitement began to build that I would soon escape Alsace and spend a weekend with my college friends. Naturally my train from work was late, and I found myself sprinting through the Strasbourg train station in an effort to catch my train. Luckily I hopped on just as the train was pulling away, red in the face, and totally out of breath (reminder: working out in Alsace is not possible unless you own sub-zero temperature running gear and a pair of snowshoes). I settled down in my seat, and proceeded to pass the time catching up on administrative tasks: writing cover letters, applying for jobs, crafting lesson plans, and of course, watching old episodes of Friends. Thank God for these long train rides, or I would probably never get anything done.

Alix and I

I met Alix in the station and we quickly went back to her apartment to get ready for a night out in Lyon. My visit coincided with the Fête des Lumières (Festival of Lights), Lyon’s annual tradition of paying tribute to Mary through various displays of light all over the city. Starting on December 8^th and continuing through the evening of the 11^th, the Fête de Lumières attracts thousands of tourists from all over the world each year. It was our mission to get ready, head to a friend’s birthday party for a bit, and then explore town and see the lights. By 1am, Alix, Elodie, Kristina, and I were ready for a night on the town. Unfortunately, Victoria had gotten sick, and was unable to come, so it was just us 4 girls for the weekend. We made our way to Etoile, a trendy bar not far from Alix’s apartment. There, two of her friends were celebrating their birthdays amidst copious amounts of cake and alcohol. Don’t mind if I do!

Much to my surprise, most everyone spoke English (Note: not a common occurrence in Alsace). The second they heard I was American, they wanted to speak in English, talk about life in the US, etc. But it was not only English-speakers I found at the bar, but actual Americans as well. We seriously are everywhere, it’s not a joke. I happened to meet a boy from Alexandria, on his study abroad in Lyon, and after a few minutes of talking, found out we have multiple friends in common. Small, small world.

Lights on the Basilique

We left the bar after a bit to go and see the lights. Only problem was that in an effort to conserve energy, Lyon had shut off all the lights (how green of you, France). Our plans thus thwarted, we decided to head into the “vielle ville”, or old town, and poke around in a few bars. We settled on the Look Bar, one of Alix’s favorite haunts. This bar, established in the 1960s, has not changed a bit since it’s creation. You walk inside, and it is like being transported back in time 50 years. The booths are covered with red velvet, and the musty smell of old cigarettes and marijuana is pungent. Even the bartenders are the same (about 70 or 80 years old by now, no joke). While at the Look Bar, we also encountered more of Alix’s friends who had studied abroad in the US. These three, who spent a year at UPenn, were all too keen to tell me why Penn was better than UVa (it seems that even those who study abroad at Ivy League schools adopt the “we are better than you” mentality…just kidding...) One, who I must say looked like a homeless lumberjack, even pulled out his Penn student ID card on more than one occasion to prove that he did, indeed, go to Penn. This same lumberjack, who spoke English with a New Zealand accent, also decided that he was in love with me, and informed he “would like a place to stay upon coming to Washington, DC in February”. Gotta love the French. Around 5am we wondered home, hoping that the city of Lyon might decide on an impromptu light show for late-night clubbers and the like. No such luck.

Salade Lyonnaise

We woke up at 1pm on Saturday, and decided to go straight out for a gourmet Lyon experience. While in the “capitale de la gastronomie”, we were going to make no joke of our eating experience. Most restaurants had prix fixe menus, as it was easier to handle the volume of tourists with a set menu. We ended up at Le Comptoir des Marroniers, we were took the “Fête des Lumières” menu. My first of three courses was a salade lyonnaise, complete with lettuce, croutons, lardons, and egg. Lardons – doesn’t that sound appetizing? For those of you who speak French, try this word with an American accent: lard-onz. One would think it was small pieces of lard cut up into your salad. In actuality, I’m not entirely sure how to describe it. It’s not exactly bacon, but it kind of resembles small pieces of bacon chopped up into tiny pieces (but with much better flavor, as most things have in France). However, I quite think the word lardons is amusing, so I’ll continue to use that. After my enormous salad came round two, a very typical Lyonnais dish of sausage, potatoes au gratin, and grilled vegetables. It was to die for. The sausage was succulent and juicy, and when mixed with a bit of the potatoes and sauce from the vegetables, it was truly heavenly. I wanted to finish it all, but just didn’t have the stomach capacity. And then came course three. A demi St. Marcellin (cheese) served with walnuts. Total decadence. After about two bites, I had to put my fork down and wave my little white flag, je n’en pouvais plus. As our lunch stretched out over 3 hours, I began to feel completely French. Long lunches followed by coffee, bottles of wine in the middle of the day, 3 course meals that don’t break the bank…I could live here. Oh wait! I already do. But Alsace is a different story.

View of Lyon from Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière

We practically waddled out of the restaurant around 4pm, and decided it was time to do a bit of sightseeing. We hiked up (working off lunch, course by course) to the Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière, a beautiful church that sits on a hill above the city. Opting to sweat instead of take the funicular (who I am kidding, there was a long line for the funicular), we reached the top just as the sun was setting (generally before 5pm in France these days…depressing). We could see the entire city of Lyon, all aglow with festival lights as the sun went down. After spending time at the church, we opted to take the funicular back down because sub-zero temperatures were commencing. By the time we got down, the city lights were in full swing, and tourists began to swarm the streets. From down by the river, I glanced back up at the basilica. Every few minutes it was lit up in a different color: purple, green, blue, red. It was really beautiful. We crossed the river and explored more of the famous light displays in the city. On the façade of one cathedral, there was a light show depicting jungle scenes. It was even accompanied by themed music.

Liberty and Her Four Horses (on LSD)

As we made our way through the streets (and by this I mean, as I stood and waited for people to jostle me in the correction direction), we happened upon more light shows: a balloon installation with the colors of the French flag, a spinning disco ball of light outside a shop, a building awash in a certain color. We finally reached the Place des Terreaux, one of the biggest open areas in the city, and home to the famous Fontaine Bartholdi (the same Bartholdi who made the Statue of Liberty). The fountain shows France as a woman seated on a chariot, controlling four wildly rearing horses, each representing one of the four great rivers of France (the Seine, Rhône, Loire and Garonne). As Alix and I approached the statue, she told me that it was called “Liberty and Her 4 Horses”; but this was no ordinary Liberty, this was Liberty on LSD. The array of vibrant colors on the statue was astounding. I could not believe that the kaleidoscope was done only with light…some of it had to have been painted! But it was pure light. Neon blues, greens, purples, pinks, yellows, oranges, all of these colors alternated through in various intricate designs, enough to make even a sober person emit sounds of bewilderment and awe.

We left the square around 7pm, so we could run a few errands and make it home in time to set up for the “L” party the girls were hosting that night. Come wearing anything that starts with L, lycra, lame, lace, leather, leopard, and you were golden. Around 11pm their guests started to arrive, each outfit better than the next. I had not been under the impression that French people liked to dress up…guess I was wrong on that front. After an hour or two, their apartment was full to the brim with people, and they were all incredibly interesting. Most in the SciencesPo international relations program with Alix and Elodie, they were all internationally minded, spoke English, and had just returned from a (mandatory) year abroad. They had been to China, Japan, Australia, the US, Canada, the UK, and more, and were eager to talk about my travel experiences and where I had been. To be honest, it was the first night I’ve been in France that I’ve spent an entire evening just speaking French. The whole atmosphere was just incredible, and it really made me fall in love with France all over again. I remembered why I love it here so much, and why I love the people. Compared to the German mentality they have up here in Alsace, Lyon was laid back, welcoming, and fun.

leather and leopard

We again ended our night around 5am, luckily for some partiers, as the tram system was just beginning to run again! The next day, our plans for a fondu lunch put aside due to inability to move, we relaxed in the apartment until my train home at 2pm. Another 5 hours ahead of me, but I knew I could handle it…at that point, my French home was mere hours away, and my real home, only a few days.

So tomorrow marks the last day of my first semester in France. My plan for my lessons? Bribe the children with Christmas candy so they behave. Ha, just kidding…maybe. But fear not, just because my vacation is starting, it does not mean a 3-week vacation from my blog. So while you all will be relishing in your vacation time, sitting on your sofas drinking hot chocolate and watching movies, I will be hard at work sharing stories of my holiday jaunt to the US of A. Merry Christmas to you! I will keep up with my blog and you can read all about how many gingerbread cookies I bake with my mom.

Joyeux Noël!