Early morning at the confluence

It's just past 8am and I'm sitting at a small café near Place Bellecour with a steaming cup of coffee, watching Lyon slowly wake up. The morning is crisp - 12°C according to my phone - and mostly cloudy, though the forecast promises some sun later today.

I woke up earlier than planned, around 6:30. My hotel room faces east, and despite the cloud cover, the morning light was enough to stir me. Rather than fighting it, I embraced the early start. After a quick shower and getting dressed, I was out the door by 7:15.

The streets were quiet - just municipal workers, a few dedicated joggers along the Rhône, and delivery vans restocking the shops. I walked toward the confluence of the Rhône and Saône rivers, curious to see this natural phenomenon that gave an entire district its name.

There's something powerful about standing at a point where two major rivers merge. The waters mix in subtle color variations - the slightly darker Saône blending with the Rhône. I stood there for nearly twenty minutes, watching the currents swirl together. A few other early risers were there too - an elderly man with a small dog, a woman sketching in a notebook, two tourists consulting a map. We exchanged nods but respected each other's morning solitude.

Afterward, I walked north along the peninsula (the "Presqu'île" as they call it here) until I reached Place Bellecour, where I found this café just opening its doors. The barista seemed surprised to have a customer so early, but welcomed me with a smile.

"American?" he asked as he prepared my order.

"Norwegian," I replied.

"Ah! Early riser?" He gestured to the clock showing 7:50.

I smiled and nodded. "Always."

The coffee here is good - not exceptional, but satisfying. Strong enough to wake me up properly, served in a simple white cup with a small chocolate on the side. The croissant is flaky and buttery, leaving a mess of crumbs that I'm trying (unsuccessfully) to contain on my plate.

I've been thinking about what to do with my remaining days in Lyon. I leave on the 13th - just three days from now. Yesterday's exploration of Croix-Rousse was fascinating, especially learning about the canuts and their working conditions. The traboules - those hidden passageways - feel like secret portals through time. I want to discover more of them in Vieux Lyon.

Today I'm planning to visit the Museum of Fine Arts. It opens at 10:00, so I have plenty of time to finish my coffee and make my way there. I've read it houses one of France's richest collections outside Paris, with everything from ancient Egyptian artifacts to modern art. I'm particularly interested in seeing the textile and silk design exhibits, given Lyon's history with silk production.

For lunch, I might try another bouchon. My first taste of Lyonnaise cuisine the other day was delightful - that pike quenelle was unlike anything I've had before. The server recommended I try the "tablier de sapeur" (a breaded and fried tripe dish) or "andouillette" (a sausage), though he warned me with a wink that they're "not for tourists." Challenge accepted.

The weather should improve as the day progresses. If it warms up as forecast, I might spend the afternoon in Parc de la Tête d'Or, which several locals have recommended as Lyon's green lung. Apparently there's even a small zoo within the park.

I'm settling into a comfortable rhythm on this journey. It's been 45 days since I left Kristiansand, and I'm starting to feel like I understand how to balance exploration with rest, planning with spontaneity. Some days I push myself to see everything; other days I allow myself to simply wander and discover.

With 455 days still ahead of me, I wonder how many more cities, towns, and villages I'll visit. How many more rivers I'll stand beside. How many more early mornings I'll spend watching unfamiliar places come to life.

Time to finish this coffee and begin the day properly.

Posted from Lyon, France - Day 45 of 500