I dream about watching the sunrise over the Lyon. And wake up to a bitterly cold day in the city. After a much needed long sleep in, we depart for an afternoon walk. We pass a market full of colorful buildings being taken down and go along the water by abandoned train tracks and weird boat anchors in the wall. Looking across Lyon from the bridge, you can see how very narrow it is.
We start up the hill to Vieux Lyon. It is very tall and we take pictures along the way. A biker passes us to make his way up the top, and his heavy breathing reminds us of Kraftwerk music. We explore the ancient ruins and get a high up view of Lyon. We wander to the church at the very to, but opt for a restaurant where there is still time for lunch and to warm up from the cold.
We decide to order a few repeats, steak au poivre and beef bourgignon. So good with shoestring potatoes and a mound of squash and parsnip. Random notes: knifes never seem sharp enough for the ultra rare beef. There is always loads of flavor and powerful sauces, perhaps that has something to do with freshness of spices and loads of butter. Salt and pepper is always in grinders means that the flavor stays fresh even at the table. Serve fresh baguettes to soak up the sauces. Wines come in all shapes and sizes to order, but wines are only French.
At the church you can really get a view of Lyon, see its peninsula shape. As we walk back down the hill, I try and teach Tom Italian. As a result, I accidentally start saying "arrivederci" to store clerks. Find a book store selling only cook books, and buy a little pamphlet on wine. The cassis store smells delicious, but we are on a mission for pepper shakers. We stop at a pretty pastry shop for coffee and macarons, that come in every color and flavor, they really are the perfect cookie. Girl gives them to us for free.
Tom buys a new French book, and we visit a cute kitchen shop with colorful tea pots. We splurge on a Peugeot pepper mill, car engineers create kitchenware, that says something. The Garmin gets us back to the hotel, pass through the village square by vendors selling hot chestnuts.
It is an adventure crossing the road to get to the Brasserie Georges. It is huge inside, like the restaurant in Ratatouille. And of course it is too bright, French restaurants always are. This one has a high tech waiting system and they brew their own beer. We watch as the bar crowd orders oysters on ice towers as they wait. An old woman in a red cabaret dress and dyed black hair sings Edith Piaf.
Our last wine to try is Pouilly Fume, served in an ice bucket. Marc Deschamps Les Loges Pouilly Sur Loire 2005 is so light and refreshing, not gooseberry New Zealand. Bright, clean crisp, little more earth, smoke, and mineral. The fresh Dijon at the table is super spicy. This is the place to be in Lyon tonight, as it is packed to the brim while other restaurants are empty.
Everywhere is serving the nouveau Beaujolais today, even the cafes and shops, but it is especially tasty here. I order a big pot of French onion soup, which is served with egg yolk and wine. It is not overly salty, just good onion cheese flavor, loads of emmental stick to my throat. Tom less impressed with his meal, lentils only so-so. We smell 4th of July as they serve sparklers on cakes.
Waiters often cash people out right at their table with portable credit card machines. We watch as they flit from table to table like bees to flowers. They bring plates on metal trays, place over candles to keep warm. There are so many faces, it is a sea of people in this restaurant and you can pretty well spot which ones are French.
We get excited as the lights lower, but it is just so an organist can play happy birthday on a big weird card fed machine. The oysters must be good, because everyone is eating them. The chocolate desert is very decorative. We finish off the night with some graham crackery pilsner and fresh peanuts at the bar. Going over our notes and pictures is a tradition before we go to bed, our "bedtime story". Tomorrow we begin a whole new adventure: Italy.