Day 8: Rubbing the Soft, Fluffy Belly of Lyon

Today we got a slow start, enjoying the fabulous, many nozzled shower, lingering at breakfast to talk to our host about driving in foreign countries and how exactly one comes to own a B&B in a medieval city. After a last lap around Carcassonne, we caught a train to Lyon.

Lyon Train Station.

Rain was in the forecast, and it was sputtering down when we reached the station. By the time we exited, umbrellas in hand, the rain was gone. Yet another day of ideal weather on this trip.

Admittedly, neither of us did a damned bit of research for this stop. It was labelled, “that thing to break up the train ride to Geneva.” And our arrival time is late in the afternoon. When we checked in, the receptionist (unprompted by us) pointed to Old Town and told us how to purchase metro tickets. With a small amount of prompting, she also provided restaurant recommendations and the location of a pharmacy. I have a blister that could use a little padding.

The pharmacist at first insists he speaks no English, but when I tell him I have a blister on my foot, he immediately pulls out the correct bandages and translates the label, adding a lengthy discussion on the importance of warming the bandage in my hands before applying to improve the adhesive’s effectiveness. With comparisons to warming up a race car before a big race. I can totally handle that kind of no English.

We head out to Old Town, and I learn a lot more about Bill’s hesitance to use the metro. Apparently, metro maps are like tangled balls of string that if he touched attract rabid kittens or something. Anyway, first we get off at completely the wrong stop, but it’s not a bad part of town.

I don't know where we are, but it seems alright.

And there's a river.

Then we make it to Old Town and wander around for a bit, finding the ruins of a church dating back to 150 AD, and a pedestrian bridge back across the river.

Now this looks more like Old Town. Full of tourists and everything.

Next to the large church are the ruins of two smaller churches.

Arches everywhere!

More views from Old Town.

We found a bridge.

A pretty cool bridge.

Note the mismatched spires.

Bookstore!

We wander around looking in shops and at interesting architecture for a while before catching the metro back towards our hotel, a short walk to check out the menus at both potential dinner venues. We select Table 101, which isn't open yet. Excellent, that leaves time to change into slightly nicer clothes.

I’m not gonna lie. Dinner was fantastic. So was the again randomly selected wine. Cheese is totally an acceptable dessert course.

Bill in his natural habitat. And complimentary champagne.

Our plan was to follow dinner with a reconnaissance mission to the Les Halles market, but the market was already closed, and tomorrow may be a no go because of the holiday. I've checked to ensure the museum I want to visit is open, so that should be a go.

When we return to the room, I notice that one of the provided toiletries is fancy bath salts.  This is an invitation I accept. I am now relaxed, stuffed, and a sleepy. Really not a bad day for having no plans at all.