20261018-19. Lyon. Sunday was the day after the protests – manifestations – across France. Monday, we flew home to Toronto.

After our final hotel/continental breakfast of the whole trip – and, himself loves a continental breakfast buffet, where no one admonishes you to put back a few of those pastries – we set out to visit Musée des Beaux-Arts de Lyon (open Sundays!), as well as some of the 500 traboules (on WL’s recommendation). “Traboule“: from the Latin word transambulare, meaning “to pass through”.

Along the way, we stopped to admire a statue that honours the city’s two rivers, the Rhône and the Saône.

There are approximately 500 traboules in Lyon, though only about 80 of them are open to the general public. To get to them, we crossed the bridges on those two rivers, and then started looking for the small circular medallions that indicate the existence of a traboule.

These covered passageways cut straight through private residential buildings, courtyards, and apartment blocks to connect two parallel or separate streets.

They are most famously associated with Lyon.

• During Lyon’s 19th-century silk boom, local workers (canuts) used these covered walkways to transport delicate fabrics and materials while shielding them from rain and cold.
• During the Industrial Revolution in the 1800s, the silk workers fought for better wages and working conditions in what became known as the Canut revolts. Using the hidden walkways, the canuts were able to sneak into the city centre and take over the town.
• The labyrinthine alleys were also used by the French Resistance during World War II. The double doors of the passageways allowed them to deliver weapons or critical messages, without raising suspicion, move weapons, and evade the Gestapo during the war.
• Most traboules are privately owned and only open between 7am and 7pm. You explore them quietly and with respect for the residents.

They are all different.

And, being Lyon, some of them involve many flights of stairs.

Speaking of stairs: not a traboule but there was more than one staircase like this. We didn’t see many overweight Lyonnaises!

There is a lot of great graffiti, some obviously less than 24 hours old.

Those horses’ hooves on the Bartholdi fountain were definitely not pink on Friday, but after Saturday’s manifestation, they were… and there were some artistic additions.

BTW right by that fountain is the place where John’s most favourite Rum’n’Raisin cones are served: Lumy.

More graffiti: some whimsical and fun.

Graffiti: some political and sad.

Loved this graffiti, below.

Speaking of America, any Europeans we talked to have absolutely no use for Trump, they love Carney, and they welcome Canada to the EU with open arms. “A new family.”

Any Americans we met felt exactly the same way and were extremely apologetic. Let’s see what happens on November 3rd… fingers crossed.

Graffiti: some explosive and joyous.

Graffiti: poetic and dark.

I don’t know what this meant. But I liked it! (In the traboules.)

Colette de Jouvenel. Famous French animator, the daughter of French writer, “Colette”.

Street art: remember to look up!

See? Also, try to ignore the puddles. They are exactly what you think they are.

Next up in our loose itinerary was the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Lyon. Open on Sundays, and free.

(For comparison purposes, to visit the ROM in Toronto these days it’s $26-$30 p.p. Hmmmmm….)

About the painting below: I loved this woman’s attitude. (I’ll save you the squint: Lucas Cranach L’Ancien, Portrait d’une noble dame saxonne, 1534.)

I also loved this Art Nouveau hotel bedroom suite, everything – including the light fixtures – designed by Hector Guimard. Saving you the squint: Lyon, 1867 – New York (Etats-Unis), 1942. Mobilier de la Chambre a coucher de l’Hotel Guimar (122 avenue Mozart, Paris), 1909-1912. Poirier, erable mouchete, bronze dore. (Pearwood, bird’s-eye maple, gilt bronze.) It was beautiful.

They had, of course, some Monet and Gauguin.

The stairwells were magnificent.

It being Sunday, there was also a huge, rambling flea market. It was a vibe.

Humans aren’t the only things that live in cities. (Squint.)

Can you see it?

We saw a lot of interesting windows.

And, sadly, thanks to the marauding that had happened primarily after 10 p.m. on Saturday evening, we also saw a lot of broken windows.

Vandals had wantonly walked through the broken doors and windows and helped themselves to everything on the shelves.

They cleaned out Sephora. (We heard about this from our server at breakfast who was aghast at how destructive the manifestation had become. Little did we know at the time that the madness would continue in a number of French cities a week later, i.e. October 24th.)

However, in contrast, while we walked through La Croix-Rousse and Vieux Lyon we noticed groups of young people wearing protective gloves, carrying sturdy garbage bags, sometimes brooms and shovels.

They were volunteers, cleaning up their city.

I stopped to ask this group – below – about what they were doing. They were curious to know where we were from, switched immediately (and mercifully) to English, and tried to explain that what had happened on Saturday was not the real Lyon, that they love their city. Those actions, they felt, were rude, and they apologized for the behaviour of the marauders (!!!!) I almost started to cry.

Their sorrow for – and pride in – their city was palpable. I hope things turn around for the French economy and that things improve across France. There is much anger and disappointment, but these young people give me hope.

Seen on our way to dinner: beautiful windows showcasing autumnal beauty, making me homesick.

… and some more French whimsy.

Dinner was at a “bouchon” that we chose for its name: Le Petit Glouton. A bouchon is a traditional, unpretentious restaurant in Lyon, known for serving hearty, meat-heavy regional cuisine in a cozy, convivial atmosphere. (It would be very difficult to be vegetarian or vegan in France in general, I think!) Rooted in 17th and 18th century inns for silk workers, the name “bouchon” comes from the historical practice of hanging bundles of straw outside to signal food and wine.

On previous trips we’ve had occasion to dine in spectacular Michelin restaurants, we just didn’t feel like it on this trip. However, if you’re planning a trip to Lyon for next Fall, might I suggest:

On our way back to the hotel we noticed a few spent tear-gas canisters.

Travellers’ tip: don’t do what I did and forget to wash your hands after handling one (it still had powder in it). Touched my lip: instant tingling reaction. No worries, it went away after 20 minutes. Still, it was a weird feeling. Don’t be a Patti.

One last look at the city before nightfall.

That basilica is beautiful, day and night.

Back at the hotel we set our alarms for 4:45 a.m. (brutal). On Monday morning we swung into action, walked through the dark to the train station where we hopped on a TGV bound directly and conveniently for Aéroport de Paris-Charles-de-Gaulle.

We made our way through airport security (which was very thorough, I might add, so, Travellers’ Tip, if you ever have to fly out of CDG, give yourself lots of time!).

Our flight to Toronto departed on time, we landed around 4, and Brian Knapp (who had been staying at the house while we were away) picked us up. We had a mostly traffic-free ride home. (I mean, it’s Toronto, after all …) We tossed our minimal laundry into the washer, and packed away the passports and leftover Euros ready for the Spring trip.

TO RECAP: below is the map of our whole 1464 km trip from Edinburgh to Lyon, and, for the map’n’data-nerds among you, the detailed GPS record is at this link https://pattiandjohn.ca/edinburgh-to-lyon/

The green line is the revised version, the pivot, i.e. the route that we actually ended up doing when we decided that Switzerland and its altitude challenges and distances were going to be too much.

29 rides from September 19 – October 16, from Edinburgh to Lyon.

That is, 35 days from the time we left Toronto to when we returned.

It wasn’t our longest trip ever, distance-wise. That was 1757 kilometres from Bordeaux to Lisbon in May 2024.

Nor was it our longest trip duration-wise. That was in October/November 2024, 42 days ending on November 22 and that was definitely too late in the season. We were snowed on in Chartres.

Still, Edinburgh to Lyon was a great challenge. I want to keep doing these trips as long as we possibly can.

Spring’s trip is still under negotiations but we’re thinking Lyon south, then cut east, finishing in Corsica/Sardinia/Sicily. Check out those elevations!

We’d store the bikes in Palermo.

But … who knows where we’ll actually end up? I’m married to the king of the pivot and I’m just happy to be along for the ride!

Thanks for riding along with us.

P.S. One last travellers’ tip: in all of those continental breakfasts I ate in France, I never once had a croissant that compares to the excellence of the croissants that you can buy right here in Toronto at either of Le Beau’s two locations. (One is by the Distillery, the other is on Dundas east of Parliament.) So, if reading about France has awakened in you a craving for French carbs, get thee hence to Le Beau. Magnifique. Remercie-moi plus tard.