Lyon

We were waiting at the campsite bus stop by 10am, with a crowd of other campers. Our bus thundered through junctions, taking no prisoners despite the fact it was a huge bendy bus. After 20 mins we reached a station where we planned to take the metro into the old town.

But our Santander credit card would not allow entry into the metro. Two kind local women tried everything to help. The ticket machines were broken. L tried loading the Lyon travel app into her phone but it refused to load. We were apparently stuck. Until L tried her debit card, et voila. We had not realised that only a debit card would do.

Had a coffee in the centre, wandered around the old town. Found a traboule, one of the mysterious ancient passageways that are to be found around old Lyon.




The door has a brass plaque requesting the curious to be quiet when they enter in.

The stone interior winds around different high buildings and ends up in another street. Very Gormenghast, or Harry Potter. 

By now it was time for an early gourmet lunch,  so we arrived at Les Adrets, a very low-key, quiet and traditional restaurant in the old town. We lingered over a delicious 3 course lunch with wine and kir royale. N had quenelles of pike, and L had duck confit. 

Thoroughly replete, we headed for the funicular train which crosses over a street below.


It takes you up a dizzy slope to a giant white Basilica dedicated to the Virgin Mary.

There's a fine view of Lyon at the top.

The basilica is all bling, more gold than a Trumpian West Wing.

The original chapel which pre-dates it, is slightly more reserved.


By now we were flagging a little, so we had another drink by the river bank and headed for the metro, bus and campsite.

Bread and cheese for dinner and a quiet night in. Tomorrow we are on our way north to Tours for the penultimate leg of the continental journey.




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