


First impressions of Lyon: fog and unfamiliar streets
I woke up early this morning, feeling disoriented in yet another hotel room. The journey from Paris yesterday was smooth - the train arrived exactly on schedule at Lyon Part-Dieu station. After checking into my hotel near Place Bellecour, I was too tired to do much exploring, settling instead for a quick dinner at a nearby brasserie before collapsing into bed.
This morning, I drew back the curtains to discover Lyon shrouded in fog. The city seems to be hiding from me, revealing itself slowly. I checked the weather forecast while getting ready - starting at a chilly 10°C but supposedly climbing to 19°C with sunshine breaking through later. Perfect for exploring.
I was downstairs for breakfast at 7:50am (for an 8:00am start), where I discovered the breakfast room wasn't quite ready. The attendant seemed surprised to see anyone so early on a Saturday. I smiled apologetically and waited by the entrance until she gestured me in.
The coffee here is different from Paris - darker, more intense. I've had two cups already and feel ready to face this new city. The fog outside actually feels appropriate - I'm stepping into the unknown again, into another layer of this journey.
After breakfast, I set out to get my bearings. The fog gives everything a mysterious quality, buildings appearing and disappearing as I walk. Place Bellecour is impressive even in the mist - one of Europe's largest open squares. I walked across it, footsteps echoing in the morning quiet, and headed toward the Saône river.
Lyon sits at the confluence of two rivers - the Saône and the Rhône. I crossed one of the pedestrian bridges and found myself in Vieux Lyon, the old town. The narrow streets and Renaissance buildings reminded me a bit of Bruges, though with a distinctly French character. Even at this early hour, bakeries were opening, the smell of fresh bread cutting through the fog.
I wandered through the traboules - those famous covered passageways that connect buildings and streets. In the past, silk workers used these to transport their delicate fabrics protected from rain. Today, they offered me shelter from the fog and a glimpse into Lyon's architectural secrets.
I've made a mental note to visit the Musée des Confluences tomorrow - it opens at 10:30 on Sundays, which gives me plenty of time to get there. The building itself looks fascinating from the photos I've seen - a deconstructivist structure of glass and steel that seems to float above the riverbank.
For now, I'm sitting in a café near the Cathedral Saint-Jean-Baptiste, warming my hands on my third coffee of the day. The fog is starting to lift, revealing glimpses of blue sky. I plan to head up to Fourvière Hill once visibility improves - apparently the Roman amphitheater up there offers spectacular views of the city.
I feel more settled today than I did in Paris. The restlessness that drove me here has calmed, at least for now. Perhaps it's the fog forcing me to slow down, to move more deliberately through these unfamiliar streets. Or maybe it's simply the rhythm of travel asserting itself - the excitement of arrival followed by the comfort of discovery.
Either way, I'm looking forward to uncovering what Lyon has to offer. I've heard it's considered the gastronomic capital of France, which sets a high bar. I've already spotted several restaurants with 'bouchon' signs - traditional Lyonnaise eateries that I'm eager to try.
The fog continues to lift. Time to put away my laptop and continue exploring. The city is revealing itself, one street at a time.