Monday musings: coffee and cathedral views
It's 11:00 and I'm sitting at a café near Place Saint-Jean, warming my hands around a cup of coffee that's... acceptable. The morning chill has my shoulders hunched slightly, but the forecast promises a warmer afternoon. I've been up since 7:30, walking the cobblestone streets of Vieux Lyon, letting the city wake up around me.
The fog that greeted me upon arrival has lifted, revealing more of Lyon's personality. This morning I decided to explore the Saint-Jean district more thoroughly, arriving at the cathedral right as it opened at 8:00. The early hour meant I had the massive Gothic structure almost entirely to myself - just me and the echo of my footsteps against stone floors that have been walked upon for over 700 years.
The astronomical clock inside Saint-Jean is a marvel of 14th-century engineering. I stood watching its mechanisms for nearly twenty minutes, appreciating the precision of something created centuries before digital timekeeping. There's something humbling about these old technologies - they remind me that innovation isn't just about newness but about solving problems with the tools available.
!The astronomical clock inside Lyon Cathedral
After leaving the cathedral, I wandered through more of Lyon's famous traboules - those hidden passageways that thread through buildings and connect streets in unexpected ways. Getting slightly lost in these corridors feels like being let in on a secret that tourists rushing from landmark to landmark might miss entirely.
I've noticed that Lyon has a different rhythm than Paris. The pace is noticeably slower, and there's less of that metropolitan intensity. People still have places to be, but they don't seem quite as determined to get there in record time. I find myself adjusting my own pace accordingly.
Plans for the afternoon
The weather forecast shows improving conditions as the day progresses, with temperatures climbing to around 20°C by mid-afternoon. This seems perfect for my planned visit to Parc de la Tête d'Or. After yesterday's museum immersion, I'm looking forward to some time outdoors.
The park is apparently home to one of France's leading botanical gardens, which sounds promising. I've already mapped my route there via public transportation, though it's only about a 30-minute walk from where I'm staying near Place Bellecour.
I'm also hoping to make it up to Fourvière Hill before sunset. The Roman amphitheater there has been on my list since before arriving in Lyon, and I've heard the views of the city are spectacular, especially as the lights begin to come on in the evening.
Reflections at day 34
Thirty-four days into this journey, and I'm noticing subtle shifts in how I approach each new place. The initial whirlwind excitement of being on the road has settled into something more sustainable. I'm less frantic about seeing everything, more willing to sit and observe.
This morning, watching an elderly man meticulously set up his newspaper stand, I realized I would have walked right past this scene a month ago, eager to get to the next attraction. Now I find these quiet moments of daily life just as compelling as the grand landmarks.
I've been thinking about the Eternities exhibition at the Musée des Confluences yesterday, particularly how different cultures approach the concept of an afterlife. It's fascinating how universal our need is to make sense of mortality, yet how diverse our explanations become. Between that and my visit to the Paris Catacombs last week, I seem to be on an unintentional death-and-remembrance tour of France.
Tomorrow I'll need to pack up again. I haven't quite decided where I'm heading next, though I'm leaning toward somewhere further south. The cooling temperatures are already making me think about chasing the sun as autumn progresses. But for today, Lyon still has secrets to share, and I have all afternoon to discover them.