Lyon, France - December 2010, long...
EXECUTIVE SUMMARY
Our first stop in Europe during our 7 week holiday in December 2010 and January 2011 was in Lyon, while youngest daughter ('Ms16') participated in a French school exchange program for the 7 weeks in Macon, which is about 40 minutes away by train from Lyon.
Lyon, in the Rhône valley, is one of the gastronomic centres of France, with Macon is smack-dab in the middle of one of the country's major wine areas. That knowledge pleased me greatly! Beth and I were to stay in Lyon for three nights before traveling to Paris.
We left Adelaide on 11 December, first stopping in Melbourne for additional passengers, then flying to Hong Kong where we changed Cathay Pacific planes for our flight to Paris. In Paris we collected our luggage, made our way to the Air France terminal and caught our one-hour ten-minute long flight to Lyon.
During our 36 hour long journey our daughter misplaced her purse containing all her important cards and cash that was to sustain her for the 7 weeks, but that's a separate story. Happily, it ended well. The Story of the Misplaced Purse.
In the days prior to us leaving Australia many parts of Europe were inundated by heavy snowfalls, which closed major airports for days. This resulted in a huge backlog of air travellers within Europe and people trying to get to Europe from overseas. We were lucky that the worst weather had moved-on before our arrival into Paris, so we faced no cancellations or flight delays along the way.
But there's always a challenge, isn't there? On arriving in Lyon we collected two of our three suitcases, but that of Ms16 didn't arrive. Have you had that sickening feeling caused by seeing the luggage carousel stop moving, you being the last person in that baggage claim area, and your suitcase has not appeared? Oh yeah.
We had some urgency in actually leaving the Lyon arrival hall as it's a sealed area that can't be seen into by people waiting to meet travellers. Ms16's host family was waiting for us outside the baggage claim area, so we worried that with no one else emerging from the closed baggage claim area they might think we missed the flight and leave the airport, with no easy way of us contacting them.
So Beth and Ms16 would leave the baggage area with the two bags that did arrive, and I would deal with the formalities of lodging a misplaced bag claim with Air France. Of the three of us traveling my French was probably marginally better than Ms16's at the time, but far short of Beth's linguistic skills. Seven weeks later Ms16 would leave me for dead with conversational French, as one would hope after spending that much time in a French school, where they speak French! My dear wife had studied French (and German) in university and for a while had considered a career as a translator. Don't you hate that? I do. As our French host family doesn't speak much English it made sense for Beth to meet with the host family and explain what was happening while I struggled by using my high school French that was modestly refined by working as a dishwasher in a French restaurant in Seattle. Go on, ask me to say 'cornichon'!
Being an over-prepared traveller I always, always, ALWAYS have a change of shirt, undies and socks in my carry-on bag just in case my luggage goes astray. This really annoys everyone else in the family. But I feel someone in the family has to think about what might go wrong and prepare for it. If I'd been on that plane in 'Lost' the series would have ended a lot quicker. Despite a very strong urge to say something to the effect of 'I told you so!' I had to bite my tongue and not gloat in this situation. Did Ms16 have a similar emergency change of clothes in her carry-on? In fact, did my wife? NOT!
The patient, multi-lingual Air France baggage manager explained that due to the huge backlog of air travellers, generated by the recent winter storms, many suitcases had not been sent with their owners and over time these bags were being on-shipped to their final destinations. Our flight from Paris to Lyon was supposed to carry 36 back-logged suitcases but only took 10. I wondered when I heard that how did we get lucky to own the only suitcase on the flight that didn't come with the passengers on that plane?
SIDE NOTE: We came across another example of the impact of being separated from your luggage while traveling later when Beth and I were on the TGV train from Paris to Vienna via Frankfurt. A young Aussie couple sitting in front of us, 'Sarah and Thomas,' asked to borrow a Nokia mobile phone charger as all of their luggage had been delayed in Heathrow and they were several days late for a friend's birthday in Austria. They didn't have a phone calling card and the battery on their mobile had long since died. Their Austrian friends who they were supposed to be meeting didn't know where they were or what was happening to them as they were out of contact.
You'd be proud of me; I was so good. Although I was tempted to say loudly, 'What, you packed your charger in your suitcase!? Are you serious!?' I did no such thing. They had probably heard if before, and yet another smug over-preparer saying it could have pushed them over the edge. I probably said something like, 'well, these things happen, don't they. But yes, we just happen to have a Nokia phone charger that you may borrow' [the one I always have in my CARRY-ON bag]. I TOLD YOU SO!
Once the formalities with the Air France baggage manager were done, and I left forwarding details of where my daughter would be for the next 7 weeks, I walked from the baggage area and met our daughter's host family. What absolutely lovely people; mum, two of their three daughters in-tow, dad, plus a very young daughter of a friend of theirs. Lots of very well educated French, but no English. Language. Even when I'm in perfect control of my faculties, rather than jet-lagged, brain dead and smelly from 36 hours of travelling, combined with the stress of dealing with a lost purse then a misplaced suitcase, I would have been proud in 2010 to say in French, 'This is a cat. I call myself Rick. I live in Adelaide.' Sadly, it doesn't get one very far in a foreign country with a vocabulary like that.
Before we left Adelaide we emailed our host family asking if they would be able to join us for a lunch in Lyon before we handed-over Ms16 to them. They booked lunch at the famous 'Brasserie Georges', a large, legendary restaurant in Lyon operating since 1836. Because of our delay caused by the misplaced suitcase we missed our 12:30 lunch reservation (the French would write 12H30, which I think is a very logical way of writing a time - it indicates unmistakably a time - half past noon in this case.) The maitre d' was proudly, supremely, busy and we were but mere diners come to bask in the culinary glow of this famous establishment; and the restaurant was full but turning-over quickly. So a beer at the bar killed some time until a table became free. I think maybe our French friends pleaded with him and might have said something like we were visiting Australian travel writers doing a piece on the best places to visit in Lyon, but as my French is not that good I can only guess.
There are certain dishes that Lyon is famous for and one of these is the tripe sausage, called the 'Andouillette'. It's a very big sausage, about the thickness of a cucumber or small watermelon, served at this restaurant covered with an aged mustard sauce. (This dish is serious business: read the Wikipedia entry - there is a committed club of French people who rate restaurants based entirely on the quality of their andouillette.)
One of our group ordered the andouillette and politely offered small tastes to the Aussies who might not be familiar with Lyon specialty dishes. I tried it. I survived. Another of our group had what looked like a thick cut of a roast and again offered a taste to the Aussies, which I tried. I survived. I don't think I've ever had veal liver before. Probably won't again, despite it being the most tender meat that I've ever eaten. Go on, just call me boring and unadventurous when it comes to food. I will admit here for the record that I am not a keen offal eater. I've heard it before and I'll deal with it, I just don't care what I'm missing. So that's that. But I appreciated the offer to taste these Lyonnaise specialities
Lyon has a beautiful old part of the city, 'Vieux Lyon' where we stayed after fare-welling our dear jet-lagged but fed daughter. The old part is on a peninsula flanked by the Rhone river on one side, and the Saône river on the other. Both were running high from winter weather. And they very looked very cold.
Churches
Across the Saône river from the Presqu'île is the very old church, La Cathédrale Saint-Jean.
This Catholic church was built between 1165-1480. Can you imagine doing a ROI calculation today for a project like that? I'm guessing you'd almost need an act of God to get that past the investors. Sorry.
After visiting La Cathédrale Saint-Jean Beth found a boot shop With A Sale On! Stand-back.
Because our bodies were still on Adelaide time our stomachs weren't synchronized to the French dining hours, meaning that we missed the lunch hour (well, actually, 'we' shopped through the lunch hour ONLY OUT OF NECESSITY because Beth's old boots were hurting her feet. And There Was A Sale On!)
The only place in Vieux Lyon that was still serving food was a Kebap shop on Rue St Jean and that was good enough for me. The meal was inexpensive, filling, and tasty. Nothing special to report there. But my dear wife did succeed in locking herself into the toilet while I was paying the bill. I could hear a banging on a door and initially didn't think I had any personal investment in it. But it persisted, and my wife still hadn't returned. So Monsieur grudgingly went-off to rescue her. Apparently she made the mistake of turning the lock too far, or so she was told. And the French phrase book was useless - you'd think there would be an entry for 'Excuse me, sir, but my wife has locked herself in the toilet!' But no such luck.
Later we compared notes and wondered if it might be how they trap women before drugging them and selling them to an eastern European sex shop. But we moved-on quickly from that idea. Maybe there is a market for captured wives of middle-aged men. I don't know.
Atop the hill overlooking Vieux Lyon is the 'new' church, the Basilique Notre Dame de Fouviére. One wouldn't guess by looking at the two different interiors that the Basilique was built much later than the Cathédrale Saint-Jean. I'd like to joke that you can do wonderful jobs with enough paint and gold leaf, but that would be detracting from the wonderful workmanship in making the Basilique.
This 'modern' Catholic church has a lot of similarities to Sacré-Coeur in Paris. It is very impressive inside, but you'll have to go see for yourself.
Better ROI on this one.
When we came out of the Basilique Notre Dame de Fouviére it started snowing, and got very cold, which we weren't used to. A short walk 'down the hill' from the Basilique is the most amazing Museum of Roman artifacts, the Museé Gallo-Romain de Lyon-Fourvière. Quite a name, but what a treasure it was finding this place. I'll admit that we entered it mainly to escape the cold and snow, as neither one of us is especially interested in Roman ruins, but didn't this place delight us! Firstly the building architecture is stunningly powerful.
And what's inside the museum is impressive. We spent a couple hours there, more than enough time to thaw out. But a real treat was seeing the restored Roman amplitheatres outside the museum. Beth was easily talked into singing a powerful rendition of 'The Hills Are Alive' from the Sound of Music. You had to be there.
She sang to a most appreciative virtual audience! I thought, perhaps she just needs the right opportunity like this, after all, look what happened to fellow Scot Susan Boyle. This could be the break.
Hotels
Friends recommended staying in the Presqu'île, or 'peninsula' area, between the Saône and Rhône rivers. It provides easy walking distance to Vieux Lyon (old Lyon), which is a must-see. We consulted several resources including our Rough Guide book, TripAdvisor on the web, and travel books borrowed from our local library and stolen from friends. We were very happy staying at the three star Grand Hotel des Terreaux in the Presqu'île. It's not far from the Hôtel de Ville (which was occupied. That's a joke...) We booked a larger room, a 'Corbeille', thinking that we might appreciate the extra space after a long trip from Australia. The hotel advertises sound-proofed rooms and they certainly were - because our room was so quiet I thought for sure that no one else was in the hotel yet it was actually quite busy. The only sound I heard was from our strange bathroom sink that insisted on gurgling loudly whenever water ran through it. It was a strange drain. The hotel's website calls the facility a 'hostel' but I think that's a typo in their English translation because it certainly is a 'hotel'. Three nights at this hotel was most enjoyable. Highly recommended.
Later in our trip we had a need to stay overnight near the Lyon-Saint Exupéry TGV station (adjacent to the LYS airport) after arriving late in the evening from Milan, and the NH Lyon Airport was highly recommended. It's very new, the room we were in was very modern and comfortable and we were very happy there. The room rate was good value but I wish I'd asked how much the full breakfast cost before we ate it - it was fine but at 24 Euros each the breakfast for two cost about half of what one night's accommodation there did. There are lots of less expensive places for breakfast in the LYS airport located just across the road. But the hotel was great.
Food
We treated ourselves to lunch at the 3 star Michelin restaurant Paul Bocuse. Very expensive, very nice. Monsieur Bocuse greeted all the diners during the meal, stopping at each table to shake hands and have his photograph taken with the guests.
Planes and Trains
A trap for new train users in France is to be aware that in many French cities there are at least two train stations, the local station that is generally located very close to the heart of the city, and the TGV station that is some distance from the city. We were nearly caught-out by this while staying later in Aix-en-Provence when we arrived at the city train station for our travel to Nice, and only then read on the ticket the we were actually leaving from the TGV Aix-en-Provence station, some 17 km and 25 minutes away by taxi. And we had 45 minutes until our train left. We made it, but only just.
Another bit of advice, your TGV carriage is identified not by the number painted on the side of the car, but by the generally obscured small LED screen by the door. Check the train layout display on the TGV voie (platform) to save yourself a mad rush to the correct carriage.
In Lyon there are two main train stations, Lyon Part Dieu in the city, and Lyon-Saint Exupéry TGV station quite a way out of Lyon. Travel books like the Rough Guide say you can get between the two by taking a bus shuttle, a 'navette', between the two stations but the bus has been recently replaced with a great rail shuttle service called the Rhônexpress.
The Rhônexpress is a smart-looking red two-carriage train/tram departing every 15 minutes or so and taking a guaranteed 30 minutes or less to make the trip from the Lyon airport/Lyon-Saint Exupéry TGV station to Lyon Part Dieu, or vice versa. Before boarding you buy the tickets from a dedicated vending machine near where the Rhônexpress stops either at the airport TGV station or near the exit of the Lyon Part Dieu rail station. It cost about 13 Euros one way in January 2011. Students pay less (we found-out after buying all our tickets...)
Festival of lights
Sorry - we missed it by a day but did have a lovely view over Lyon from the illuminated ferris wheel. Maybe next year.
We both agreed that Lyon was as attractive, if not more so, than Paris. Maybe because we've been to Paris a few times before and it was our first visit to Lyon. But Lyon is well worth a visit, and allow yourself at least a few days, if you can, to get a feel for the place.
Onward to Paris...
- Lyon was the first stop on our holiday, where we 'delivered' our youngest daughter to her French host family for a 7 week school exchange in Macon.
- Learned our daughter's luggage was delayed at Paris airport on our arrival in Lyon.
- Enjoyed a lovely lunch with the host family at Brasserie Georges in Lyon - a gastronomic institution specializing in offal.
- Three Aussies dead tired after 36 hours of travel, but so impressed by such a lovely family hosting our daughter's visit.
- Food impressions from Brasserie Georges and lunch the next day at 3 star Michelin restaurant Paul Bocuse. Yum, and Yum!
- Hotel in Lyon - Grand Hotel des Terreaux in the Presqu'île, or 'peninsula' area - very comfortable; a nice stay. Later we stayed overnight at the NH Lyon Airport hotel, a modern, comfortable hotel, adjacent to the airport and the Lyon TGV train station.
- A trap for newbies - check which train station you are leaving from.
- How to get from one of Lyon's train stations to the other using the excellent Rhônexpress shuttle train - it has replaced the 'Navette' bus service between the two.
- Two major churches visited in Lyon; one took 300 years to build, the other took 4 years to build. Spot the differences.
- Beth locks herself in a restaurant toilet after sating herself on a Kebap, thrilled with her new boots Bought At A Sale!
- Unexpected delight! Stumbling across the Roman museum in Lyon. Wonderful!
- The Festival of Lights - oops, we missed it!
- Next stop Paris...
Our first stop in Europe during our 7 week holiday in December 2010 and January 2011 was in Lyon, while youngest daughter ('Ms16') participated in a French school exchange program for the 7 weeks in Macon, which is about 40 minutes away by train from Lyon.
Lyon, in the Rhône valley, is one of the gastronomic centres of France, with Macon is smack-dab in the middle of one of the country's major wine areas. That knowledge pleased me greatly! Beth and I were to stay in Lyon for three nights before traveling to Paris.
 |
| Lyon from Fouviére |
We left Adelaide on 11 December, first stopping in Melbourne for additional passengers, then flying to Hong Kong where we changed Cathay Pacific planes for our flight to Paris. In Paris we collected our luggage, made our way to the Air France terminal and caught our one-hour ten-minute long flight to Lyon.
During our 36 hour long journey our daughter misplaced her purse containing all her important cards and cash that was to sustain her for the 7 weeks, but that's a separate story. Happily, it ended well. The Story of the Misplaced Purse.
In the days prior to us leaving Australia many parts of Europe were inundated by heavy snowfalls, which closed major airports for days. This resulted in a huge backlog of air travellers within Europe and people trying to get to Europe from overseas. We were lucky that the worst weather had moved-on before our arrival into Paris, so we faced no cancellations or flight delays along the way.
But there's always a challenge, isn't there? On arriving in Lyon we collected two of our three suitcases, but that of Ms16 didn't arrive. Have you had that sickening feeling caused by seeing the luggage carousel stop moving, you being the last person in that baggage claim area, and your suitcase has not appeared? Oh yeah.
We had some urgency in actually leaving the Lyon arrival hall as it's a sealed area that can't be seen into by people waiting to meet travellers. Ms16's host family was waiting for us outside the baggage claim area, so we worried that with no one else emerging from the closed baggage claim area they might think we missed the flight and leave the airport, with no easy way of us contacting them.
So Beth and Ms16 would leave the baggage area with the two bags that did arrive, and I would deal with the formalities of lodging a misplaced bag claim with Air France. Of the three of us traveling my French was probably marginally better than Ms16's at the time, but far short of Beth's linguistic skills. Seven weeks later Ms16 would leave me for dead with conversational French, as one would hope after spending that much time in a French school, where they speak French! My dear wife had studied French (and German) in university and for a while had considered a career as a translator. Don't you hate that? I do. As our French host family doesn't speak much English it made sense for Beth to meet with the host family and explain what was happening while I struggled by using my high school French that was modestly refined by working as a dishwasher in a French restaurant in Seattle. Go on, ask me to say 'cornichon'!
Being an over-prepared traveller I always, always, ALWAYS have a change of shirt, undies and socks in my carry-on bag just in case my luggage goes astray. This really annoys everyone else in the family. But I feel someone in the family has to think about what might go wrong and prepare for it. If I'd been on that plane in 'Lost' the series would have ended a lot quicker. Despite a very strong urge to say something to the effect of 'I told you so!' I had to bite my tongue and not gloat in this situation. Did Ms16 have a similar emergency change of clothes in her carry-on? In fact, did my wife? NOT!
The patient, multi-lingual Air France baggage manager explained that due to the huge backlog of air travellers, generated by the recent winter storms, many suitcases had not been sent with their owners and over time these bags were being on-shipped to their final destinations. Our flight from Paris to Lyon was supposed to carry 36 back-logged suitcases but only took 10. I wondered when I heard that how did we get lucky to own the only suitcase on the flight that didn't come with the passengers on that plane?
SIDE NOTE: We came across another example of the impact of being separated from your luggage while traveling later when Beth and I were on the TGV train from Paris to Vienna via Frankfurt. A young Aussie couple sitting in front of us, 'Sarah and Thomas,' asked to borrow a Nokia mobile phone charger as all of their luggage had been delayed in Heathrow and they were several days late for a friend's birthday in Austria. They didn't have a phone calling card and the battery on their mobile had long since died. Their Austrian friends who they were supposed to be meeting didn't know where they were or what was happening to them as they were out of contact.
You'd be proud of me; I was so good. Although I was tempted to say loudly, 'What, you packed your charger in your suitcase!? Are you serious!?' I did no such thing. They had probably heard if before, and yet another smug over-preparer saying it could have pushed them over the edge. I probably said something like, 'well, these things happen, don't they. But yes, we just happen to have a Nokia phone charger that you may borrow' [the one I always have in my CARRY-ON bag]. I TOLD YOU SO!
Once the formalities with the Air France baggage manager were done, and I left forwarding details of where my daughter would be for the next 7 weeks, I walked from the baggage area and met our daughter's host family. What absolutely lovely people; mum, two of their three daughters in-tow, dad, plus a very young daughter of a friend of theirs. Lots of very well educated French, but no English. Language. Even when I'm in perfect control of my faculties, rather than jet-lagged, brain dead and smelly from 36 hours of travelling, combined with the stress of dealing with a lost purse then a misplaced suitcase, I would have been proud in 2010 to say in French, 'This is a cat. I call myself Rick. I live in Adelaide.' Sadly, it doesn't get one very far in a foreign country with a vocabulary like that.
Before we left Adelaide we emailed our host family asking if they would be able to join us for a lunch in Lyon before we handed-over Ms16 to them. They booked lunch at the famous 'Brasserie Georges', a large, legendary restaurant in Lyon operating since 1836. Because of our delay caused by the misplaced suitcase we missed our 12:30 lunch reservation (the French would write 12H30, which I think is a very logical way of writing a time - it indicates unmistakably a time - half past noon in this case.) The maitre d' was proudly, supremely, busy and we were but mere diners come to bask in the culinary glow of this famous establishment; and the restaurant was full but turning-over quickly. So a beer at the bar killed some time until a table became free. I think maybe our French friends pleaded with him and might have said something like we were visiting Australian travel writers doing a piece on the best places to visit in Lyon, but as my French is not that good I can only guess.
There are certain dishes that Lyon is famous for and one of these is the tripe sausage, called the 'Andouillette'. It's a very big sausage, about the thickness of a cucumber or small watermelon, served at this restaurant covered with an aged mustard sauce. (This dish is serious business: read the Wikipedia entry - there is a committed club of French people who rate restaurants based entirely on the quality of their andouillette.)
 |
| Andouillette in mustard sauce - I dare you to eat it! |
One of our group ordered the andouillette and politely offered small tastes to the Aussies who might not be familiar with Lyon specialty dishes. I tried it. I survived. Another of our group had what looked like a thick cut of a roast and again offered a taste to the Aussies, which I tried. I survived. I don't think I've ever had veal liver before. Probably won't again, despite it being the most tender meat that I've ever eaten. Go on, just call me boring and unadventurous when it comes to food. I will admit here for the record that I am not a keen offal eater. I've heard it before and I'll deal with it, I just don't care what I'm missing. So that's that. But I appreciated the offer to taste these Lyonnaise specialities
Lyon has a beautiful old part of the city, 'Vieux Lyon' where we stayed after fare-welling our dear jet-lagged but fed daughter. The old part is on a peninsula flanked by the Rhone river on one side, and the Saône river on the other. Both were running high from winter weather. And they very looked very cold.
Churches
Across the Saône river from the Presqu'île is the very old church, La Cathédrale Saint-Jean.
 |
| La Cathédrale Saint-Jean, built from 1165-1480 |
This Catholic church was built between 1165-1480. Can you imagine doing a ROI calculation today for a project like that? I'm guessing you'd almost need an act of God to get that past the investors. Sorry.
After visiting La Cathédrale Saint-Jean Beth found a boot shop With A Sale On! Stand-back.
Because our bodies were still on Adelaide time our stomachs weren't synchronized to the French dining hours, meaning that we missed the lunch hour (well, actually, 'we' shopped through the lunch hour ONLY OUT OF NECESSITY because Beth's old boots were hurting her feet. And There Was A Sale On!)
The only place in Vieux Lyon that was still serving food was a Kebap shop on Rue St Jean and that was good enough for me. The meal was inexpensive, filling, and tasty. Nothing special to report there. But my dear wife did succeed in locking herself into the toilet while I was paying the bill. I could hear a banging on a door and initially didn't think I had any personal investment in it. But it persisted, and my wife still hadn't returned. So Monsieur grudgingly went-off to rescue her. Apparently she made the mistake of turning the lock too far, or so she was told. And the French phrase book was useless - you'd think there would be an entry for 'Excuse me, sir, but my wife has locked herself in the toilet!' But no such luck.
Later we compared notes and wondered if it might be how they trap women before drugging them and selling them to an eastern European sex shop. But we moved-on quickly from that idea. Maybe there is a market for captured wives of middle-aged men. I don't know.
Atop the hill overlooking Vieux Lyon is the 'new' church, the Basilique Notre Dame de Fouviére. One wouldn't guess by looking at the two different interiors that the Basilique was built much later than the Cathédrale Saint-Jean. I'd like to joke that you can do wonderful jobs with enough paint and gold leaf, but that would be detracting from the wonderful workmanship in making the Basilique.
 |
| Basilique Notre Dame de Fouviére, built from 1872 to 1876 |
This 'modern' Catholic church has a lot of similarities to Sacré-Coeur in Paris. It is very impressive inside, but you'll have to go see for yourself.
Better ROI on this one.
When we came out of the Basilique Notre Dame de Fouviére it started snowing, and got very cold, which we weren't used to. A short walk 'down the hill' from the Basilique is the most amazing Museum of Roman artifacts, the Museé Gallo-Romain de Lyon-Fourvière. Quite a name, but what a treasure it was finding this place. I'll admit that we entered it mainly to escape the cold and snow, as neither one of us is especially interested in Roman ruins, but didn't this place delight us! Firstly the building architecture is stunningly powerful.
 | ||
| Entrance of Museé Gallo-Romain de Lyon-Fourvière |
And what's inside the museum is impressive. We spent a couple hours there, more than enough time to thaw out. But a real treat was seeing the restored Roman amplitheatres outside the museum. Beth was easily talked into singing a powerful rendition of 'The Hills Are Alive' from the Sound of Music. You had to be there.
 |
| Sing girl, sing! |
She sang to a most appreciative virtual audience! I thought, perhaps she just needs the right opportunity like this, after all, look what happened to fellow Scot Susan Boyle. This could be the break.
Hotels
Friends recommended staying in the Presqu'île, or 'peninsula' area, between the Saône and Rhône rivers. It provides easy walking distance to Vieux Lyon (old Lyon), which is a must-see. We consulted several resources including our Rough Guide book, TripAdvisor on the web, and travel books borrowed from our local library and stolen from friends. We were very happy staying at the three star Grand Hotel des Terreaux in the Presqu'île. It's not far from the Hôtel de Ville (which was occupied. That's a joke...) We booked a larger room, a 'Corbeille', thinking that we might appreciate the extra space after a long trip from Australia. The hotel advertises sound-proofed rooms and they certainly were - because our room was so quiet I thought for sure that no one else was in the hotel yet it was actually quite busy. The only sound I heard was from our strange bathroom sink that insisted on gurgling loudly whenever water ran through it. It was a strange drain. The hotel's website calls the facility a 'hostel' but I think that's a typo in their English translation because it certainly is a 'hotel'. Three nights at this hotel was most enjoyable. Highly recommended.
Later in our trip we had a need to stay overnight near the Lyon-Saint Exupéry TGV station (adjacent to the LYS airport) after arriving late in the evening from Milan, and the NH Lyon Airport was highly recommended. It's very new, the room we were in was very modern and comfortable and we were very happy there. The room rate was good value but I wish I'd asked how much the full breakfast cost before we ate it - it was fine but at 24 Euros each the breakfast for two cost about half of what one night's accommodation there did. There are lots of less expensive places for breakfast in the LYS airport located just across the road. But the hotel was great.
Food
We treated ourselves to lunch at the 3 star Michelin restaurant Paul Bocuse. Very expensive, very nice. Monsieur Bocuse greeted all the diners during the meal, stopping at each table to shake hands and have his photograph taken with the guests.
Planes and Trains
A trap for new train users in France is to be aware that in many French cities there are at least two train stations, the local station that is generally located very close to the heart of the city, and the TGV station that is some distance from the city. We were nearly caught-out by this while staying later in Aix-en-Provence when we arrived at the city train station for our travel to Nice, and only then read on the ticket the we were actually leaving from the TGV Aix-en-Provence station, some 17 km and 25 minutes away by taxi. And we had 45 minutes until our train left. We made it, but only just.
Another bit of advice, your TGV carriage is identified not by the number painted on the side of the car, but by the generally obscured small LED screen by the door. Check the train layout display on the TGV voie (platform) to save yourself a mad rush to the correct carriage.
In Lyon there are two main train stations, Lyon Part Dieu in the city, and Lyon-Saint Exupéry TGV station quite a way out of Lyon. Travel books like the Rough Guide say you can get between the two by taking a bus shuttle, a 'navette', between the two stations but the bus has been recently replaced with a great rail shuttle service called the Rhônexpress.
The Rhônexpress is a smart-looking red two-carriage train/tram departing every 15 minutes or so and taking a guaranteed 30 minutes or less to make the trip from the Lyon airport/Lyon-Saint Exupéry TGV station to Lyon Part Dieu, or vice versa. Before boarding you buy the tickets from a dedicated vending machine near where the Rhônexpress stops either at the airport TGV station or near the exit of the Lyon Part Dieu rail station. It cost about 13 Euros one way in January 2011. Students pay less (we found-out after buying all our tickets...)
Festival of lights
Sorry - we missed it by a day but did have a lovely view over Lyon from the illuminated ferris wheel. Maybe next year.
Onward to Paris...
Labels: France Lyon Rhonexpress
posted by Rick's Rambles at 10:45 pm
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