Sunday, 20 December 2015

Epiphanie in Lyon

- Armed soldiers patrolled the Central Station, which my (lovely) hotel was a stone's throw from. I caught the televised Bastille Day celebration along the Champs Elysees in Paris. I felt more comfortable being flirty if I so pleased, because the Europeans are generally relaxed about sexuality than the Australians. I made the mistake of flirting with an American who had just arrived in the country, who very quickly referenced his family and shunned my newly liberated ways. I brooded about this for a while, then got on with it. That's the best thing about travel - you just keep on having new experiences, and it's hard to get stuck in an emotional groove.

- Lyon is famous for its food culture, and the best thing I had all year was a fillet of duck with herbs. I have no idea what they did to it, but it melted in my mouth and turned the tinnitus in my ears into music. I think it was made 'rural style', though the menu was in French and that doesn't help with the remembering. Another memorable meal was a salmon baguette affiliated with Carrefour (the supermarket) - such a simple thing, but each ingredient sang.

- I discovered a new side to Jenny (my long-time traveller friend) over lunch near a stunning cathedral we had just visited. We were emblematic of a culture of global intersections: an Australian and a Taiwanese bonding over a French holiday. She had brought fruit and told me about how she had enlivened her daily routine by selling things at the local market every once in a while. Her enthusiasm rubbed off on me, as did my appreciation for art on her - we spent a day floating around a famous gallery, silently ohh-ing and ahh-ing over room after room of vibrant, sophisticated brushwork. 

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