Mike & Steve's Visit

Parc de La Tete D'Or



















This park never fails to surprise me. Today, after the capuchin monkeys and endangered jaguars, we found the lake--with some of the clearest water I've ever seen (is it real? who knows). It has acres of gardens and fields; no park even in Paris can compare.

The seasons are changing here in Lyon. Leaves on trees are turning golden, rain threatens the sky daily, but today was surprisingly warm :)

Mike Ridley & his friend Steve came to visit for a few days, so we thought we'd give them a taste of Lyon. But, they took the taste factor to the extreme.

Above, you can see a picture of the aftermath of what they ordered, a traditional Lyonnais dish: andouilles. In English? Tripe, in mustard sauce. (that's stomach intestines)
Scene: Mike & Steve stuff in a forkful each, mouths watering in anticipation of their first veritable Lyonnais meal. Immediately, they wince, slightly convulse, and gulp some water to swallow it down. Being the proper gentleman that they are, they smile and say, "This is...very strong." It was a memorable meal, at least.

Luckily, Megan's friend Isabel is here to save our tastebuds and cook us some delicious traditional (traditional this time meaning delicious), like poulet a la creme.

--Isabel just introduced her parents to us on Skype--us, including Mike and Steve. Ha. Both of them held the laptop like it was a baby who just made a mess.

Game time.

So Tired

First week of actual teaching has come to an end, and I am sooo tired. But, we have a 10-day vacation now! ( I know, already ). So, Megan & I will be heading to the south of France! woop.

Mike Ridley comes to visit tomorrow. Yay! Hopefully I'll finally have time to catch up with friends & family, this weekend, too.

Who knew that I've already been here a month? Ridiculous.

Forecast

Windy tonight on the homefront. Rain Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday.

Sunshine today in the classroom. Smiles, new expressions, and confidence. :)

Inestimable

One trip to Auchan: lots of euros.

One trip to Ikea: lots of more euros.

Two bus rides with bags and bags to heave home: a few euros.

The chance to make our sterile apartment une maison francaise: priceless.

Notre Appartement

Megan & I have moved in! Check out our first french "dejeuner" (lunch), above. We recently purchased a bottle of seasoning that makes everything taste French--parfait!

As you can see, our balcony is petite, but cute, eh? Check out more photos of our apartment here.

On Monday, I officially begin my first day of teaching. On Friday, we officially begin our first (10-day) school vacation, Toussaint. Sucré. 'Considering heading down to the south of France: Montpellier, Marseilles, Nice, maybe even cross over the border to Monaco. It's not hard to do.

France is treating us well. It's been in the 30s and 40s, but bright sunshine all day, every day (though I see some clouds moving in right now). We found the cheap French Walmart, called Auchan, where we got all our kitchen towels and candles and home comforts. We've so far succeeded at speaking French together about 1/2 the time, and then English about 3/4 of the time. Only one bag remains unpacked on my tile floor. Tomorrow we go to Ikea to get throw rugs and then maybe catch a French flick at the film festival in Lyon. I've tried to get a French cell phone six times now, and our land line isn't working yet. Yesterday, we put up a friend of a friend though we had just moved in 20 hours before. We finally figured out how to turn the hot water on. And I now am in possession of a pillow. C'est la vie francaise!

A Day on the Rhone

Most beautiful day in Lyon, ever (and according to the weather forecast, the last for forever).











Me w/ my future roomie (starting Wednesday), Megan, sitting beside the Rhone River, watching mini shaggy dogs with big heads and rollerbladers with too much padding.


...And, the amazing Ethiopian meal that my host, Jackie, cooked for Megan & I last night! A feast to be sure, and the best lentils I have ever tasted.



Update: One more week of observation at the high school, and then I start teaching! This Wednesday, I move to my new dwelling--my OWN dwelling--where I should finally be able to write a more informative post. Thanks for readin' up!

-Mags

The French "Taco"

Ingredients: creme fraiche, steak, nacho cheese, barbecue sauce, tomatoes, french fries. Awesome.

Here is my day

Here is a lion, one of many in the city of Lyon. It seems to be a symbol of the city, so it's fitting that I happen to be a Leo.


Here is a view of the city itself, which I hiked to from that bridge you see there.

And here is the cathedral Fourviere, which is on top of the hill, with the view.

Oh, this is where I left it

I found my heart in Vieux Lyon today.

Vieux Lyon, or "Old Lyon," is one of the biggest and best-preserved Renaissance quarters in Europe. Its tiny, winding cobblestone streets are now home to various shops of Indian textiles, handmade jewelry, and Salons de thé, which feature hot beverages and sweet treats.

I was feeling rather homesick today (I think I'm picking up these common British words, like "rather," from my British host, who says "throw a wobbler" instead of "throw a fit") as I dashed from the grimy Givors Canal train station to Perrache, another ugly modern train station that can boast no French charm to speak of--a sad disappointment to new travelers.

But all I needed was a simple crossing of the river with Megan to discover what I was really hoping to find in Lyon. Just over the Saone River from the presqu'ile ("almost island/peninsula") is Vieux Lyon, a neighborhood which reminds me a bit of Barcelona and Florence combined, with a non-Parisian, au naturel French twist. It's exciting and quaint and exactly what I needed to see to take the homesickness away. Here, I fell in love.

Right. I don't feel like saying much more. Check out the pictures, then.

Champagne & Rocking Chairs

The town of Vienne sits on the Rhone River, a Mediterranean-esque town in a lush green valley where ruined chateaux on the foothills overlook the contemporary world like wrinkled grandmothers in rocking chairs, silently observing modern life with nostalgic grace and quiet disapproval.

This was my weekend placement. I stayed with Lydia, another wonderful English teacher from the lycée with two of the cutest little French kids on the planet & a knack for good cooking.

After my exhausting Saturday morning, a traditional French dinner was very much appreciated. FIVE hours later, I had consumed apéritifs (appetizers), champagne, salad, smoked salmon, wine, full shrimp (yes, Carrie, this time you could see the whole body--I had to pull off the legs and head, complete with eyes--I squirmed, but I ate), pork cooked with pineapple, au gratin potatoes, bread, cheese, and une tranche of chocolate tarte. By 12:15 a.m., my head was spinning with too much French and my stomach was about ready to kill me. But oh--it was worth it!

I passed out, feeling like those old French kings with the huge stomachs about ready to burst their suitcoat buttons, on the pull-out futon that every French household seems to have for potential guests. It was perhaps the best sleep of my stay thus far.

Today's petit voyage to the flea market gave meaning back to the anglicism: "Someone's junk is someone else's treasure." Tons of chipped dishes, old film cameras, cheap romance novels, children's toys from the past 10 years, mismatched jewelry and rusty keys. I was in love. As I probably won't receive my first French paycheck (in euros!) until November, however, I settled with a French language mystery novel and a bit of French stationary--how could I resist, at ,50 euro centimes? :-)

So Tired

I am fed up with French public transportation.

The greve (strike) of course began the day that I arrived in Lyon, and has been going ever since.

I rendez-vous'ed with about 60 other language assistants last night in Vieux Lyon, which is the one of the best preserved Rennaissance quarters in Europe (truly beautiful). After a night of much commiseration about potential near-future homelessness, I ran back to the only bus stop that connects to my current dwelling, only to find that the buses had stopped running at 7:46 p.m. It was 10:50 p.m. Ugh.

It's okay; we're in this together. Luckily, Megan (the girl I plan to live with) had spoken with another assistant about crashing at her place for the night. By 1 a.m. that morning, there were SIX of us headed back to this girl's place, ready to crash on her floor (to our surprise, we all got partial beds!). Fantastic.

Only problem? I had to be back the next morning to St. Genis Leval in order to get BACK to Lyon, to get down to Vienne, my temporary weekend-dwelling. But of course, that did not happen.

8:30 a.m. Waiting for bus 35.

10:00 a.m. Waiting for bus 35.

11:15 a.m. Waiting for bus 10.

12:05 p.m. Waiting for bus 10.

I finally make it back, after realizing I took the wrong bus 10, to St. Genis Leval, at 12:45 p.m. That's four hours of traveling, and two trains to Vienne missed. :( All is well, however, as Jackie (my current host) called ahead and scheduled to have someone pick me up on their way to Vienne later tonight, so for the moment, I can avoid the bus. Well, exhaustion has now set in and I eagerly await my potential move into the city...

The Quiche Lorriane That Kills

It's hidden in the ready-to-eat aisle, behind a garish plastic covering and in a cheap microwaveable dish, under the 1,40 euro sign. It's cheap..but it kills. Take one bite of this quiche, and if you're American, you will die of a certain cheesy-hammy-fatty flavor of love that frenzies your tastebuds. Faire attention: take deep breaths between bites.