The next day, Barbara J. met me and we traveled up to the area by the Hotel de Ville: City Hall, which was swathed in scaffolding and wraps for renovation. This fountain was the first thingwe saw exiting the Metro. What's European city without its requisite modern sculpture?

Some European sculpture I find intriguing, like the tower of people in Brussels. But I just didn't "get" these. And they're captioned in French. Dave said we could have a sabbatical in Lyon. I told him I'd need a two year head start in order to take French lessons and learn the language.

We strolled up the hill from the plaza, and saw this beautiful set of doors on this church, then noticed the stone carvings on it had been damaged. The sign below details the reason: cannonballs.

We heard organ playing and wanted to get in there. (Her father makes and plays organs.) A door opened on the side, and we were allowed in. The white-haired man asked: "Do you speak English? Or American?" We laughed. Turns out he had lived in North Carolina for a few months, not too far from Barbara, working with the machines that spun yarns for textile weaving. "Oh," she told him sadly, "the mills are all gone--gone to China." He shook his head. All the mills and weaving are gone from Lyon as well, once known as the center of silk production for Europe, and where the Jacquard loom was invented.

The church was in sad condition in the interior, but the professor sat at the organ, guiding his student's lesson. We sat and listened.

Every church seems to have its memorial to the dead. This one appears to be for those that died from the influenza at the beginning of the last century.

Green Chairs
Lyon, France
June 2007

We ate lunch at a little shop called Le Petit Moment near our hotel, then wandered around looking for this church: Abbaye St-Martin d'Ainay, dating from the 11th century by the Carolingans. I loved the spare look of it, and the restoration was beautifully done.

Adam and Eve Leaving the Garden
Lyon, France
June 2007

Most of these shots are from the outside, as the church was closed. While we were there, a florist delivered some flowers. She spoke a little English (again, I need to learn French, if I'm going to travel here) and said she didn't think it would be open later, "as there is a dead person in there."

We went home, and after resting for a short while, I went back to see the interior of the church. I slipped in the side door, just in time to see them carry the casket out the front.

I waited until all the mourners had left, then walked around the interior.

I left d'Ainay and walked to the river a block away, then crossed it and headed to St. Jean, the other huge cathedral in Lyon.

Left Bank of the Saone
Lyon, France
June 2007

Tower
Lyon, France
June 2007

It seem to be a big, dark old church until the sunlight streamed through the upper windows.

Right Bank of the Saone
Lyon, France
June 2007

I was slow moving the next day, lingering around our hotel. When I finally headed north up the peninsula, I wandered along the pedestrian "shopping" streets, including this arcade that connects to the next street over. Printemps Dept. Store is in this area: lovely to look at, but the prices indicated that it was looking store only. I calculated that there's an approximate 30% mark-up on every price as the dollar is weak right now against the euro.

The big shopping mall is anchored by Galeries Lafayette, a store on the level of Macy's. The center court has an interesting fountain that shoots up four stories high on occasion, then drops back down and up again in a random pattern. I wandered the mall, venturing now and again in to look at shops, but not really ready to make the leap and plunge into the retail clothing experience. It's hard enough to find things that you like and that fit in your own language and country.

The carousel at the mall, complete with vendors below selling flying helicopters. They spotted me with my camera and really put on quite a show.

Then I decided to try Carrefours, the French equivalent of Wal-Mart. In all ways. In every way. A clone. Except for the sight of these nifty shelf tags that are electronic and changeable, the experience was dulling and overwhelming and frustrating. Just like Wal-Mart at home.

While standing line to pay--the wrong line, it turned out--I thought about the Tower of Babel. If the Lord was going to divide and confuse his people, making different languages was a brilliant way to do it. However it also can unify people, as when you hear your own language after traveling for a while, you turn to the speaker, even if they are Australian, like the woman I shared a table with the next day at the Place Bellecour sandwich shop. We had a great conversation--in English.

It was nice to come home via the flower stand near our hotel.