If you’ve ever wandered the narrow streets of Vieux Lyon or meandered up the Pentes de la Croix-Rousse, chances are you’ll have seen the odd person peel away from the crowds and disappear behind a… More
My life in Lyon was punctuated by visits to the city’s many boulangeries. Had a terrible time battling the infamous Administration? Or a bad day at the office? Need a bite to eat for that interminably long bus journey? Boulangeries are, in my experience, the answer to many of life’s problems. There is, quite simply, nothing a pain au raisin/ chausson aux pommes/ torsade au chocolat (delete as applicable) can’t fix, or at least remedy somewhat. The boulangeries have gone head to head in the Battle of the Boulangeries, and the results (following months of dedicated sampling) are in. (Disclaimer: 80% of these are located in the 6th arrondissement, as that’s where I lived. If you’d like a broader range of top-notch bakeries, check out this post by CatherineRose.)
My time in Lyon was full of ups and downs, highs and lows. At times, it felt like a game of snakes and ladders: I would triumphantly ascend a miniscule ladder with each email written in error-free French, only to slide down the longest snake known to mankind two squares later. Living abroad is a steep – and occasionally unforgiving – learning curve, and I’ve learnt a lot from this particular séjour. With that in mind, it’s time for Nine Lessons (and one Carole*) from Lyon . . .
Not too long ago, Kia from Aspire to Amble nominated me for the ABCs of Travel Tag. I hadn’t heard of this tag before, but I really enjoyed taking a trip down memory lane in order to put this post together. Kia’s blog is jam-packed with wanderlust-inspiring destinations and beautiful illustrations alongside tasty recipes and thought-provoking posts on language learning (such as this one). Without further ado, un grand merci à Kia for the nomination and here’s my alphabet of travel . . .
This time tomorrow, give or take a few hours, I’ll be flying home to the UK. I’m simultaneously ready to leave and try something new, apprehensive about The Future (due in part to the ongoing quest to find a job) and sad to be leaving one of France’s most beautiful cities. (That said, the prospect of leaving the humid heatwave behind is an immense relief.) Summer is already in full force here, and I’ve been busy making the most of the new season peaches, nectarines and local cherries on sale at the local market. (Can cherries for the equivalent of €2.90 a kilo be a thing in the UK too, please?) Alongside revisiting some of my favourite haunts across Lyon, I have (of course) found the time to venture out to other corners of Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes before my stint abroad comes to an end.
With classes done and dusted for the year, I’ve been eagerly devouring a multitude of fictional worlds in glorious library-stamped paperback over the past three months. (Lots of bookworms seem to go gaga for hardback, but I much prefer paperback.) Having skipped out on New Year’s Resolutions, I set myself a handful of more manageable goals instead: losing the viennoiserie-related weight (check); awakening my dormant inner bookworm and reading a wider range of books (check); and finding a new job (in progress). I’ve been loosely following one of POPSUGAR’s Reading Challenges and have found myself reading all sorts of books I – in all probability – wouldn’t otherwise have read. I almost went doolally with the number of typos in Jules Wake’s Escape to the Riviera, and Neil Cross’ Captured is, in my opinion, better suited to the small screen, but on the whole these tomes have gone down a treat.
Tucked away in deepest, darkest Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes, one of the region’s best-kept secrets hides behind a stone wall, with only the smallest of plaques hinting at its existence. Le Palais Idéal – known in English as The Ideal Palace – is a remarkable creation, a childlike fantasy of epic proportions and, perhaps most surprisingly, the labour of love of a humble postman.
After the success of my first solo hike, I decided that another trip to the Parc Naturel Régional du Pilat was in order. With a string of sunny days on the forecast, I picked one, traced a new route onto my map in blue felt tip and set off for Lyon Part-Dieu. Although there were no huge peaks on the cards this time, the Massif du Pilat didn’t disappoint, for viewpoints were numerous and trails virtually devoid of hikers.