roadtripping.

The Honeymoon: Beerman, Blinky, and Me.

Lyon is an incredible city. It was settled by the Romans 2000 years ago, and is rich with history and artifacts. Like Paris, it is laid out with many plazas and squares and roundabouts with statues and fountains at the centre. It is a beautiful city, well known for food and theatre.

Our hotel in Lyon (the Hotel du Theatre 45 euros) was more charming in some ways than our hotel in Paris, but it let us down in one respect. Our room was to be on the second floor, and we were all excited at the prospect of not having to haul our stuff up a million flights of stairs. But of course, in France the second floor is what we'd call the third in North America (because they don't number the ground floor), and their lobby was three flights up to start with.

It was late-ish when we arrived in town, so we just did a bit of wandering and then headed out for dinner. There were so many restaurants to choose from, we were a bit dazed wandering from one to the next, and finally just said "let's go here!" because we couldn't decide.

The next day was gorgeous and hot like summer and we decided to explore the countryside a bit. There was a conservatory for birds on the way to Bourg-en-Bresse, so we thought we'd check it out as we hunted for local cheeses and such. The first small town we stopped at - St-Andre-de-Corcy - had a big map explaining a walking tour, marked out with numbered signposts, of local landmarks including a park by the water, so we decided to check it out. The path started in a rural direction, and we watched a farmer in a beret tending his sheep.

"Do you think they wear those hats for the tourists?"

"Government pays them 50 euros a year."

We saw some lovely old buildings and then I noticed that the signpost had the wrong number - it was near the end, and we thought we were at the beginning. Maybe the beginning and end followed the same road for a block or two? We headed out in what I thought was the right direction, but when it seemed we were just wandering into farmland at random in the hot sun with no water, we decided to head back. for refreshment at least.

Bourg was a gorgeous little city, with beautiful churches and vistas and opticians everywhere! Seriously, you'd think there was something in the water making everyone go blind. But none of them had frames for me! So I had to continue squinting to enjoy the gorgeous countryside.

Back in Lyon, we prepared to meet Lodo to go to his family's house for dinner. I got the shower before TG did, so I had a chance to do a bit of window-shopping. Lots of beautiful expensive things. And then, I saw them - my glasses! There was a shop called Contact Optique in the rue Brest that had all kinds of tempting frames. There were two in particular I narrowed it down to - one quite similar to my old glasses, one bigger and rounder and a clear dark red instead of my usual black. I took their business card and said I'd be back first thing in the morning with my husband to decide which ones to get.

Fortunately we had no trouble finding Lodo and his cousin Jeremy at the statue as directed. We took the bus to their house, trying to remember every step of the way, so we'd be able to find our way back again.

Dinner was an amazing meal at a beautiful house full of cousins and siblings - I think there were twelve of us all told. We figured out too how TG's cousin knew them - Lodo's aunt's husband worked with Peter's father in India. But of course!

After much delicious food and a stolen recipe for pommes dauphinoise, Lodo's friend Jean-Louis came by to join the party. We all got to talking and Jean-Louis offered to take us up to a park in the mountains the next day before we headed back to Paris. And he was nice enough to give us a ride back to the hotel before he and Lodo went out on the town.

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