Betty and I are both feeling a little rough this morning. I mentally add up all the alcohol we drank last night and it's no surprise I had strange confusing dreams. So I do some self-healing meditations early this morning, then drag myself into the shower and to Betty's gite. Today we will do the traboules of Saint Jean, then this afternoon, I will walk to the train station to meet Colin, who is returning from Toulouse today and will spend a couple days with us in Lyon. This evening Colin and I will go out to dinner and head up the Fourvière hill for an evening stroll. Although it is difficult to estimate the distance of traboules and spiral staircases, I think my entire day adds up to something like 10km.
There is a pretty good map of the Saint Jean traboules available online at www.lyontraboules.net/impr_saint_jean.php. However, in order to be able to follow this map, one must start at the designated start point, and run the route in the correct direction, because they only offer the address of the entrance of the traboule, and not the exit. Therefore, today, like yesterday, we are relying on the most excellent Le Magazine du Vieux Lyon. Again, here is my crappy reproduction. Later, I also found a good version which includes addresses for both ends of the traboules at www.vieux-lyon.org/traboules-vieux-lyon_f02500.htm
After breakfast, we start our trabouling in Saint Jean. There are more fancy courtyards and a few fewer multi story tower
staircases than yesterday's set in Saint Georges, which is good, because our calves are still
feeling it from yesterday.
We start out at #58 Rue Saint Jean (RSJ), which leads to a lovely little courtyard with an antique well and a spiral staircase. The gate is locked, and we don't go up the staircase. (It takes me until my last night in Lyon to realize that this traboule is the washroom for the crepe restaurant where we bought our first night's street-crepes and where we also ended up for supper our last night in Lyon.)
The statues on the back of the Palais de Justice across the street are also very impressive, and more than a little "Game of Thrones." (Yeah, I'm looking at YOU, Khaleesi and Robb Stark).
Next, we head to #54 RSJ, the famous "Long Traboule." It takes us through a rather plain cement hallway to a small rather ordinary-looking residential courtyard. However, on the other side of the courtyard is another hallway that leads to a large courtyard, which today is filled with a tour group. Another hallway off this corridor is quite spectacular, and reminds me of a marble spa. This hallway opens at the other end into a beautiful courtyard with spiral staircases, and then exits through a rather plain hallway to #27 Rue du Boeuf.
At #31 Rue du Boeuf, we head back in, and run another long traboule. A short low-ceilinged hallway leads to a set of interconnected courtyards. We go up six floors on the spiral staircase, and from there, spot another tour across the courtyard that we simply must climb also.
This second tower at first appears to be locked, but we soon discover the key is hanging just inside the gate, and we are in! This tower is in much poorer repair, and appears to be mainly for storage.
We go all the way up to the top then back down again, where we can see the exit of #10 Rue la Bombarde open directly ahead of us through the tower's gate. We could just exit straight out to Rue de la Bombarde. However, since #14 appeared to be closed when we passed it earlier in the courtyard, and had been locked on my two previous attempts on this traboule, we exit through #14 and then walk back in through the open #10, just to say we did them both. ;) The stained glass window above #10 is quite lovely from the inside.
Next, we walk down Rue de la Bombarde, past the Place de la Basoche Lion to Rue Saint Jean. We pass #32 RSJ, which is elegantly crowned with a metal sculpture and a plaque announcing this as the former residence of Guillaume Leroy, a 13th C printer. So I check my map to see if it is a traboule. As we stand there, the owner of Chope du Lug exits and says a surprised "Bonjour!" While it is not listed on my map, it turns out this is indeed a traboule entrance to the subterranean medieval shop Mandragore. With my upcoming medieval-themed excursion fast approaching (stay tuned!), I really should buy some accessories, but when we try the door, it has already re-locked from the inside.
Traboule #48 Rue Saint Jean leads to a courtyard with a spiral staircase, which of course we take up four flights.
Traboule #42 RSJ leads to a nice courtyard, and is situated across the street from the 15th Century Grande Maison de Visite, which has a neat facade. Is it just me, or is there a LOT of Game of Thrones motifs around here?
#27 RSJ is a traboule labeled "A Splash of Color" because of its two colorfully restored courtyards. There is a locked spiral staircase I seem to remember being able to unlock on a previous visit to Lyon, but today we have no luck locating the correct "unlock" button on the keypad, and simply exit out on #6 Rue des 3 Maries (R3M). The road was renamed (from Rue des Etuves) in the 16th century, to honor the three Marys present at the Tomb of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, Mary of Jacob, and Mary Salome.
We pause to admire the lovely large ornate wooden door of #19 R3M and the statues of the Magdalene and the 3 Marys above the 15th century #5 R3M. Two of the statues appear to have been decapitated. I can only assume these two are both images of the Magdalene, and that they fell victim to the soldiers of the Baron of Adrets who decapitated many statues in the Cathedral Saint-Jean in 1562.
#9 R3M is a gorgeous red door that leads us through a set of brightly painted hallways, then through a small courtyard to a larger one containing several interesting features, including an antique water fountain and a creepy looking "dungeon" area.
There are many many doors, and we turn in circles. The schoolchildren who went in before us have somehow vanished, so apparently the way out is so easy a child could find it. ;) Yet we still can't figure out which one will take us to #17 Quai Romain Rollande (QRR) until another couple of tourists pass through it.
It is the door next to the fountain. While the exit hallway to #17 QRR is fairly dilapidated, the door itself has ornate ironwork and a lovely stone carving of a woman's face.
We walk back and forth along Quai Romain Rollande (QRR) several times, looking for #10, which should take us through to #2 Place du Gouvernement on Rue Saint Jean. We see #12, #11, and #8, but no #10. The door for #8 is open looks promising, but just as we work up our nerve to walk in, two men walk out, carrying various objects. They give us the stink eye, so I figure that must be a private residence. Finally, I try the green gate labelled #11/12, and what do you know, it opens! It leads through a long rather functional-looking courtyard and exits at #3 Place du Gouvernement. So either the map is wrong on both the entrance and exit numbers, or we just found a new traboule!
Walking back down Rue Saint Jean, #18 offers a lovely courtyard with a grinning gargoyle, and we realize that we can see right through both the candy shop (Peches Gourmands) on Rue Saint Jean where Betty had bought some souvenir nougat and Les Pavés du Vieux Lyon for her friends in Canada, and a restaurant (Bistrot de Saint Jean) in the Place du Petit College on Rue du Boeuf... I realize we are currently under my gite! Notice the "dragon eggs" above the candy shop window.
Our last traboule of the day is #17 RSJ, next to the Comptoir de Matilde, a French stalwart, which offers not only the requisite chocolates and amazing babas au rhum (who knew wet bread in a jar could be so good?), but also strange potions with titles like "Aphrodisiaque" and "Orgasmes."
I digress. This traboule leads us through an ornate hallway and courtyard. Of course we head up the spiral staircase, and are very surprised by the tiny door at the top. I feel like Alice in Wonderland. No wonder the Eiffel Tower looks so small to me from here... ;) The age of this traboule is made obvious by the wear on the stone stairs.
By the end of our run today, Betty definitely has caught the trabouling fever... despite our fatigue walking
back to her gite, she keeps looking for door-open buttons everywhere. Lol. At the gite, I take off my Mary Jane shoes and examine them. They are completely worn out. The soles and the insoles are both loose and flapping. The heels are worn through and the toes are not far behind. No wonder my right knee has been hurting a little. This afternoon, I must still walk the 6km return trip to Gare Lyon Part-Dieu to meet Colin, who is passing through Lyon on his way back from his conference in Toulouse. I wish I could switch shoes, but to save my rib from over-burden on this week's trip, I only brought a small backpack and no additional shoes (if you missed that drama, please refer to "Quartz Hunting at Pointe Castilly" and the follow up in "Lost in the Woods".)
As we make our way over to Les Adrets for lunch, I wave to the Boeuf, and see a taxi trying to do the same idiotic thing my taxi driver tried to do the last time I was in Lyon: drive down Rue du Boeuf. So I thought I'd include the photo to show you how seriously hopeless that endeavour is. Across from Les Adrets is a bas relief with "A Lovetarde d'Or," dated 1708. I spend the entire meal trying to figure out what a Lovetarde is.
Lunch at Les Adrets is always a treat. One must absolutely reserve your place at least a day in advance. Although we dropped by only yesterday to reserve our table, and spoke to the same waitress here today, she eyes me suspiciously when I enter: "Do you have a reservation?" When I answer in the affirmative, she suddenly softens, smiles warmly and seats us immediately. She must have to deal with a lot of disappointed walk-ins.
Each day at Les Adrets is a culinary adventure, as the chef's set menu is always different. The choices today are: an appetizer of foie gras or mackerel bric, a main dish of chicken or steak tartare or "3 types of fish," and a dessert of fromage blanc (yogurt) or assorted sweets. Of course, this all comes with a bottle of wine and an after-dinner coffee, and only costs 18 Euro per person. Seriously. If you are ever in Lyon, make the effort to get a reservation here.
While the first waitress that seated us speaks English fairly well (she served Colin's family last time), our server today seems to only speak French. I help translate the options, and Betty tries her best French to select mackerel and chicken, and is quite happy when the waitress cheerfully dismisses her lack-of-perfect-fluency with a comment that her own English is much worse than Betty's French. When my "3 types of fish" arrive, I am surprised to see it consists of a piece of buttery white fish, a pike quenelle, and octopus. I am even more surprised when the octopus blows me out of the water! It is so perfectly done... I have NEVER had octopus like this.
Of course, I encourage Betty to visit the traboule washrooms. This time, unlike last time, I took photos to share with you my dear readers! One must first head to the back of the restaurant, where there is a hostess station at the entrance of the restaurant courtyard. Then one must duck through the small red door, then pass through a wooden door, and climb the spiral staircase up to the luxurious washrooms, which overlook the courtyard portion of the restaurant below.
After lunch, I walk the 3km down the Cours Lafayette to meet Colin at the Lyon
Part-Dieu train station. Betty considers accompanying me, but since it is just as hot today as the
first day we arrived, she decides to skip the walk in favor of resting
at the gite. She is really not eager to repeat her first day's experience here, and talks about taking a taxi to the train station when she leaves on the
30th.
On the other side of the bridge, there is a really strange art installation by Tadashi Kawamata, part of the Rives de Saone public art project.
Soon I am walking along the trolley tracks, down Boulevard Marius Vivier Merle towards the train station.
At the train station, Colin asks about the taxi strike that started today. He asks about whether we've had the same Uber-car protests here as in Paris. Since Betty and I have only been walking around Vieux Lyon, we didn't notice anything different with the taxis today. Certainly we have not seen any cars on fire! Betty is going to be disappointed she can't take a taxi to the train station after all.
Colin tells me he was surprised to see so much security on his train from Burgundy, including soldiers in fatigues and police with big dogs on the train. As we stroll back the 3km on Lafayette, we wonder if the dogs were checking for drugs or bombs. The conversation certainly distracts us from the extremely hot weather.
Arriving back at the gite, I consider blogging but am so tired, I don't even open my laptop. I pass put on the bed while Colin logs in to the internet and starts his evening shift of work.
Looking at the news feed, it turns out that the attack was not in actually in Lyon, but at a gas factory about 25km outside of Lyon. Apparently, there has been three terror attacks globally within three hours, giving today the moniker "Black Friday / Vendredi Noir." It makes me feel very sad, and a little nervous.
After Colin's work shift is finished, we head out down Rue due Boeuf for dinner at the light and airy Les Retrouvailles. Afterwards, we'll walk it off with a short 2 km trip up the Fourvière hill.
The wife runs the floor while the husband runs the kitchen. There are many sweet touches that made this meal enjoyable, for example, the napkin art, the tiny amuse-bouche of cold melon soup, and watching the meals come together in the open kitchen.
After dinner, we walk up the Montée du Gourguillon to the Lycée and Eglise Saint-Just, then back down Rue Minimes and Rue de l'Antiquaille, past the Nuits de La Fourvière festival at the Roman Amphitheatres, and down Montée Saint Barthélémy, past the 16th Century Maison de Pauline Marie Jaricot to th and associated chapel, to the 228 stairs of Montée des Chazeaux which drops us on Rue du Boeuf. At night, the old road is both dramatically magnificent and a little eerie. The mood is occasionally broken by the sound of crowds cheering from the Amphitheatres. Back at my gites, I fall asleep a little disoriented by the strange turn today has taken.
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