A street in Dijon
Even though I’ve lived in France for the better part of a decade, I still get so excited about traveling in this country. Except when it comes to Lyon.
I first visited the city a few years ago, when the boyfriend and I stayed with some friends of his over a dreary November weekend. Sometimes spelled “Lyons” in English, Lyon has a lot to offer, starting with its long history (it was once called Lugdunum, and was the largest city in Gallo-Roman France; you can still see the remains of its theater and other archeological finds today). The Vieux Lyon (Old Lyon) neighborhood is one of the best-preserved medieval neighborhoods in the world. Wines from the Rhone region abound. The cathedral Notre Dame de Fourvière has a commanding presence on the hill that looms over the city, and beside it is a metal structure that I’ve dubbed “the poor man’s Eiffel Tower”. But despite these and other appealing aspects, I found Lyon to be sort of…characterless. I was surprised to find that my boyfriend felt the same way. A few years later, we mentioned our trip to his great-aunt, who echoed, “Hmm…Lyon”.
I’m currently reading Charles Dickens’ travel memoir, Pictures from Italy (which you can read online or download to your e-reader for free!). On his way to the aforementioned country, Dickens had to go through Lyon. Here’s what he had to say about it:
What a city Lyons is! Talk about people feeling, at certain unlucky times, as if they had tumbled from the clouds! Here is a whole town that is tumbled, anyhow, out of the sky; having been first caught up, like other stones that tumble down from that region, out of fens and barren places, dismal to behold!
I laughed as I read the rest of the passage about Lyon; apart from improved sanitation, the city seems to give the same impression today, as it did in the 1840’s.
A few months ago, my friend Caddie*, a French teacher, called me excitedly to say that she was bringing a group of students on a class trip to France in June, and that she’d have a few free days when we could get together. This was great news; though Caddie is one of my best friends, we haven’t been able to see each other in person for almost three years. “The kids will be doing a homestay, so we can hang out – you can even stay in my hotel room for free,” she went on. Where would we meet, I asked. The answer: Lyon.
I love Caddie enough that I didn’t care. And as the visit got closer, I even got optimistic. Maybe this time, discovering the city with a good friend, I’d end up liking it a lot more.
Not so.
Although Caddie and I had a great time, and though we saw and did a lot, the city still seemed lackluster. “It’s the poor man’s Paris,” Caddie remarked, unknowingly echoing my comment about that Eiffel Tower-like thing on the Fourvière Hill. “Lyon’s not ugly or anything,” she went on, “but it just seems like it’s trying to be Paris – and not really succeeding.”
That may have been why, after having spent Friday there on her own, she’d booked a train for a day-trip to Dijon, thinking I was only staying until ten o’clock Sunday morning, instead of ten o’clock Sunday night. When she realized she'd made a mistake about my departure time, Caddie waved my concern away. “It's my fault,” she said grandly, “so I’ll pay for your ticket and you’ll come to Dijon with me.” I protested, but she shook her head, took a sip of wine, and told me “Y.O.L.O. – that’s what my students say: You Only Live Once”
And so, we woke up Sunday morning, headed to the train station, bought my ticket, put my bag in a locker, and took the two hour train ride to Dijon.
Unlike Caddie, who’s always been mercurial and spontaneous, I’m a planner. I control and organize just about every aspect of my life and travels, often in spite of myself. I’d made a mini-guide for our weekend in Lyon, based on things Caddie had told me she wanted to do. Now, that was useless, but I didn’t feel upset. My stomach lurched a little as the train started moving, but I felt excited, too, like this was meant to happen. I had to let go.
And I’m glad I did. I’d never been to Dijon, nor to any town in the Bourgogne (Burgundy) region. While Lyon lacks character, Dijon is rich with it. We were so charmed by the place, shown to us by a teacher whose students are pen pals with Caddie’s, that we quickly stopped making mustard jokes and puns. The white-stone city delighted us.
After a few hours, we got back on the train and returned to Lyon. I grabbed my bag from the locker at the station, while Caddie ordered a salade lyonnaise (one of the few notable things about the city is that it does have a few signature foods) at a nearby café. I joined her and we savored our last two hours together. A quick photo together in a booth at the station, and I ran to catch my train back to Paris. Caddie and I promised we’d try to see each other the next time I'm in the States. We decided we won't meet anywhere we know, but somewhere we’ve never been before.
Here are some pictures from the weekend:
LYON
When I arrived in Lyon, this cool sign outside the Part-Dieu train station caught my eye. The lion is one of the symbols of Lyon, since the city’s name and the animal are pronounced the same way.
This pleasant-looking place isn’t an actual bookstore or library, alas, but a miniature in the Miniature and Cinema Museum.
Notre Dame de Fourvière and the Eiffel Tower-like structure on the hill above Lyon. We tried to climb the hill, but were stopped by a rainstorm that made us slide down the slopes, so we gave up and went back to the hotel room to eat baguette and sausage. Caddie has another free day in Lyon; hopefully she’ll get to see these places up close, as I did the last time I was there.
Lyon’s Gay Pride Parade was going on that day. It was a moving coincidence; Caddie came out to me many years ago while we were watching the Paris Gay Pride Parade. At the Lyon parade’s end, a canon created a foam party, right there in the street.
As we headed back from Vieux Lyon after our attempt to climb to the top of the Fourvière Hill, the light hit the Saône River just right.
DIJON
A big mustard fan, Caddie was thrilled to see the original Maison Maille…which unfortunately wasn't open, since, like most French towns, Dijon’s stores are closed on Sunday. Oh well, at least we got to take pictures in front of it....
Luckily, one or two souvenir shops were open, including this one, that was selling jars of all kinds of mustard, from traditional-style, to mustards mixed with unusual things like cassis or Nutella.
The church of Notre Dame de Dijon is known for several things, including the impressive façade of gargoyles on its western side,
and “la chouette” (“the owl”). This tiny sculpture, worn from hands being passed over it, is considered a good luck charm. People – including residents like the old woman who asked if she could cut in between our photos so that she could touch the owl in passing – caress the statue with their left hand and make a wish:
The Board of Tourism put a version of the owl on metal arrows stuck on the sidewalks. Visitors can follow them to see most of the town’s famous landmarks.
Dijon is full of beautifully preserved buildings from the Middle Ages, to the early 1900’s. Here, a street of medieval houses looks more or less the same as it did centuries ago.
The ends of the beams on medieval houses are often decorated with small sculptures.
The Bourgogne (Burgundy) region is known, among other things, for rooftops of multicolored tiles, generally on medieval or Renaissance-era buildings. The tiles are often arranged in different patterns on each roof.
This medieval building’s old wood is so warped that its façade seems about to slide off!
The warm sun shines through one of Notre Dame de Dijon’s rose windows.
For a few euros, you can climb to the top of the City Hall’s medieval tower, to get a view of the town – including a great perspective of those fantastic Burgundian rooftops, like the one in the lower right corner of the photo.
Just below, the beautiful Place de la Liberté.
We ended our day in the Botanical Gardens, where letters on the side of a building spelled out, “DETENDEZ-VOUS” (“RELAX”). I took it as a sign.
This gazebo surrounded by plants was beautiful,
while this photo, part of an outdoor exhibition on cows, made me laugh:
Back in Lyon, we noticed a woman near us at the café didn’t mind a little sparrow who was hopping around, trying to steal bread from people’s plates.
A surprising image that was the perfect ending to a surprising weekend.
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Geraint Isitt
Maureen Andrade
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john guzlowski
Rosycheeks
Jacob Sugarman
Salon.com
Comments
I love the picture with the woman and the sparrow. Could be an oil painting.
HUGGGGGGGGGGGGG
i am more interested in your subjective reactions to the
cultural delights of your
adopted nation than
i am in the objective wondrous beauty
it has to offer.
that says alot about you, dear gal.
ha: "I’m a planner. I control and organize just about every aspect of my life and travels, often in spite of myself. "
you sound like my sister.
georgie's mom.
always best to visit a city with a good friend or a loved one
or if you are lucky, a lover...
kinda imbues it with something it might not have had, yes,
if you were alone and wandering...
i could live a nice peaceful life in that miniature bookstore.
Salade Lyonaise sounds tres bon to me. Almost like carbonara minus pasta plus bitter greens.
Dijon looks beautiful in your photos, and mutard aussi.
Beautiful. Hope your wish avec al chouette comes true, whatever it was!
R♥
(Are you going to be in Paris August 9 or 10? If so, I hope we can meet!)
Rated.
What wonderful pictures and word pictures. I love cities with old souls. Thanks for sharing all of it!
Lovely!
rated
Rated.
designanator – Thank you – I’m honored that a visual person like yourself thought my photos were good – I love to take pictures but don’t think the results do justice to what I see.
Kanuk – I read this comment, then saw your other one – Lille is definitely a city I can understand missing – but Lyon? I’m glad you just mixed up the names :- ) Although some people do love Lyon, of course. My boyfriend told a coworker from Dijon that I went to her city and that I preferred it to Lyon, and she went on about how much SHE used to love going to Lyon!
V. Corso – Thank you!
Linda – I was really surprised that Dijon wasn’t more mustard-oriented. There weren’t little mustard stands and mustard-themed colors and tee-shirts and whatnot everywhere. In a way, I was a little disappointed. : -) The woman with the bird was really so sweet. We tried to take the picture discreetly, and we even had one we liked more, with the bird perched right on her bread basket, but it was blurry….
Gerald – Thank you, and you cracked me up with the New Jersey comment. I love my state of birth but I’m still laughing. Still, though it may sound like sacrilege, for me, nowhere beats New Jersey for delicious food – not even Dijon!
James – Thank you as always for your kind and beautiful words. This trip was definitely important to me on many levels, and I couldn’t find a way to just integrate the photos. The image of a miniature you living in that library is one that warms my heart.
Rob – Thank you for reading, and right on! I hope you have a wonderful trip, full of delightful surprises!
Erica – It was my pleasure, and I’m so glad you enjoyed this!
BSB – Whenever I hear that what I wrote made someone feel a little better during a hard day, that’s the best thing in the world. I’m sorry your day wasn’t going well, and I’m honored and thrilled beyond measure that my post could have made it a little brighter. I hope things are better now.
steve – Salade lyonnaise is pretty good, I have to say. And thank you for hoping that my wish comes true. I hope so, too!
Fusun – When I told my friend Caddie the title of the post, she rolled her eyes. I’m glad SOMEONE likes it! : - ) And thanks for hoping my wish comes true.
Frank – Thank you and I definitely hope you take a trip here!
Matt – Thanks. The photo of the woman with the bird was taken furtively by Caddie. We were both just so enchanted with what was going on.
Stim – I’m glad I don’t like mustard very much, because I wasn’t all that disappointed that Maison Maille was closed – at least, not as disappointed as Caddie, though it definitely would have been cool to check out. I bet Lyon is a great place to be when there are fireworks or when they hold their famous festival where they illuminate the buildings beautifully – but all that razzle dazzle is the only time it seems like the city has a real spirit to it. As for the tower, you may be right – but I don’t want to know – I prefer to think of it as a mini-Eiffel Tower : - )
Lea – Thanks, and I agree, Lyon does have some good food. As for August, I’m going to PM you.
Alan – What you wrote about your memories of Lyon says it all, for me. I really don’t think the city has a lot of character. It’s not ugly and has many good qualities, but not a lot of personality. Dijon is definitely worth the trip, though.
Eva – I love what you wrote about sparrows. I agree – they’re so cute and fun to watch, too. I especially like the cheeky ones that come up to people on restaurant terraces, like the little guy in the picture. Of course, you’re right about cats, too!
jlsathre – Thanks for reading, and I’m honored by what you wrote. I’d love to do travel writing as my day job…but I don’t know how I could compare to all the other talents out there…sigh….
Bellwether – I do hope you’ll get to Dijon – not only do I feel like you’d enjoy the city, I also imagine you’d write about tasting some really crazy variety of mustard, and the way you’d describe it would be just perfect and funny and great. And I bet your pictures would be a darn sight better than mine, too!
Poor Woman – Thank you! I had a great time and I’m so glad you liked what I wrote and the pictures.
Shiral – Thanks! I love your pity for Lyon. It’s true, poor city, it really has a lot going for it, and isn’t a terrible place at all. I hope you’ll get to come back to France soon – and maybe you can stop by Lyon. I imagine you might see it differently than I did, and maybe you’d even change my perspective on it.