horns of wilmington's cow

By anth

À la mémoire de la jeunesse

16 years ago I came to Lyon to study for a year. I very almost didn't stay, and while I may regret not having done more (generally through lack of cash, but also through youthful more-important-stuffness), I would have made a huge mistake by giving in to initial thoughts of running back home. That I stayed was partly down to possibly the most 'tender' talk I'd ever had (before or since) with my dad on the phone; finding somewhere that sold British tea; and discovering the Smoking Dog pub, with Newcastle already 1-0 up on the way to a 5-0 drubbing of Manchester United.

Being back is a strange mixture of nostalgia-bomb pleasure and feeling old. With time I've lost a lot of the inhibitions I had as a 20 year old, and as a consequence my French is much improved (self-trumpeting aside, I got a really nice compliment from the lady at Le Clos Margot this morning on my command of the language), and finally have the appreciation to indulge in the culinary delight that is Lyon gastronomy. Strangely I didn't get any of this feeling 6 years ago when I came back for the first time since being a student here. Maybe it was some awful stuff going on at the time (neighbour/house issues, long story) and now I'm more settled. Whatever it is, it's weird, and tomorrow can only get weirder because I'm off to have a gander at the old uni residence I stayed in (there's a research aspect to this trip that is feeding into some writing I'm doing).

Today, after leaving Le Clos Margot (and yes, another 6 bottles of Champagne were added) there was a blast down the autoroute as far as Beaujolais, then a meander through the vine laden hills before sneaking into Lyon along the Saône. The early evening wander took in Place des Terreaux, the fountains in the ground (69 of the to match the department number) seemingly having been turned off some time ago, and the large statue as a centrepiece turned down, there being no spray from the horses' noses, and some random dancers in various parts; then Vieux Lyon, past the still-remaining Smoking Dog, and other sights to bring things flooding back.

Tomorrow is going to be busy, there's so much I want to see before we head off for Millau on Tuesday. As one English-speaking tourist coming the other way at one point remarked to her companions, "it's not very aesthetically pleasing" (though that's a matter of opinion, I love Vieux Lyon, and the amphitheatres and the strikingly ostentatious Fourvière basilica); it may not, in many eyes, be pretty, but I love the place, and will keep coming back when the need for nostalgia grabs.

So much has changed hugely in 16 years; it's nice to know the Smoking Dog, and Quick Burger, and FNAC, and funicular railway, are still there.

Oh, and the Café des Fédérations, which we ate at 6 years ago, and which has featured on two separate UK cooking shows since then, and which we're eating at again tomorrow night.

Bonne soirée à tous!

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