My List of Lasts from Lyon

Bits & bites vol. 2

Today was my last day in Lyon, and I am going to miss it! Simultaneously, I am so ready for the next adventure... Spain OTW… 

Feeling very grateful to have had a week alone in a newish place to wrap up my time here. It felt like a more grounded ending than what some other folks had, the ones who left the country as soon as our program ended. It’s letting me slow down and think. The fun thing has been happening where when you read a book, you start narrating your thoughts like the author you’re reading. Does that happen to you? Right now my thoughts sound like Lisa Napoli. I’m reading this book. 

Today I didn’t leave home until 4 p.m. my time. That’s 7/8 a.m. for folks at home and it’s so hard for me to wake up early when everyone I want to talk to throughout my day wakes up when my day is almost over. So my sleep schedule got messed up. Can’t help it. I went to bed at 3 a.m. last night and tonight I need to wake up at 3 a.m. to get ready for my flight. 

I took my last TCL Métro on Thursday when I hopped on the D line out to a park east from the rivers and where I’ve been staying. I think it’s suiting that the last métro I took was one I had never been on before. Parc de Parilly was very sweet to me and I enjoyed that the D line métro is green because it brought me to a green space. 

My last time on public transport in Lyon was after I had been in that park for four hours and took the T6 tram back to Debourg. It’s industrial here, not very touristy, everyone minds their business. It's not as “cute” as the rest of the city, which I think explains why we didn’t go here during any of our guided trips. There’s really not much to see here unless you’re a public park fan like me. 

My last time speaking French to someone today was when I bought a Limonata Pelligrino from a Vival for 1 euro 20, and I had the usual exchange I do when I’m buying something, and I say “pour carte, ouai” and try to pretend I'm French during the short interaction. I don't know if it's convincing, but folks usually don’t try to speak English to me. I’m always leaving the store thinking… Did I pass as French? Maybe… I’d like to think so. 

My last trip to my favorite coffee shop was on Thursday, where the kind barista who learned I am American would wait for me to order in French and then would say “Ok, you can have a seat — I will bring it to you!” took my order for the last time. When I got an iced americano like I had every time without fail I had been there over the past few weeks, she taught me that I could just say “comme d'habit” to ask for my usual. I taught her the English translation, and it made me sad to think I’d no longer be a regular there. I wouldn't be coming back to ask for my usual. Bye, Magma! I love you!

(pic below is not from Magma, but Louisiana, the other coffee shop I frequented, because once you have the wifi password somewhere, it’s just easier to keep coming back)

I took my Limonata Pelligrino to the park while I walked and listened to a Radiolab episode about square dancing, feeling deeply American for what was playing in my ears. Doing more learning about the 1940s-50s era USA on accident than I have in a while, but it’s just coincidence thanks to Lulu Miller and Lisa Napoli. Makes me feel patriotic though. Did you know that Nina Totenberg went to school with Liza Minnelli and they were friends? Totenberg directed a version of The Diary of Anne Frank that Minnelli starred in which received high acclaim for a high school production. The local Scarsdale Inquirer wrote: “It is still hard to believe that high school students and not scarred and seasoned sufferers breathed so much life into this play.”

My last shared meal was dinner on Sunday night before Leila left. We both got a ratatouille and chorizo entrée from a place in Old Town that was countryside-themed. Felt like a nod to the fictional Anton Ego from the so-named movie. Taking the narrow spiral staircase down to the basement level to the bathroom, you’re presented with this farmeresque diorama hidden behind a piece of glass. The two toilet stalls were built around the diorama so you could look at the hay bale and the almost life-sized cow while motion-activated farm and wind sounds played from a speaker near the sink. Hilarious. Never seen anything like it before. I came back up the staircase and told Leila she Had To Go To The Bathroom, and no, I didn’t care if she didn’t feel like she needed to. 

My last trip down the eight flights of stairs below my Airbnb will be tomorrow morning as I make my way to the Lyon airport. I am grateful not to be flying out of Paris.

I never had escargot. I didn’t buy a watch or a nice wallet or a pair of ballet flats as I told myself I would, and I didn't learn nearly as much French as I thought I would from being here for a month. I plan to come back when I can speak the language. I am so excited to go somewhere where I can speak the language… at least better than I can French. I’ll report back about how I’m doing with the language barrier in Spain soon. 

Sending bisous!