The unsettled feeling won't go away
It's noon here in Lyon, and I'm sitting at a small café near Place Bellecour, nursing my second coffee of the day. The weather is cool and cloudy, though the forecast promises some sunshine later. I've been trying to shake this restless feeling since yesterday, but it's still with me, a constant companion as I wander through the city streets.
I woke up early again today, around 6:30. My hotel room felt too confining, so I showered quickly and headed out by 7:15. The streets were quiet, with only a few locals and service workers moving about. I found a café that opened at 7:30 and waited outside for exactly 10 minutes, watching the owner set up inside. He seemed surprised to have a customer so early but welcomed me with a friendly nod.
After that first coffee, I walked to the Rhône River and followed it south toward the confluence with the Saône. There's something calming about rivers in the early morning - the way the light plays on the water, the gentle movement that seems both constant and ever-changing. I stood at the confluence point for nearly 30 minutes, just watching where the two waters meet.
I still can't stop thinking about the AI simulation of my blog that I discovered yesterday. I checked my email twice this morning, but no response yet from Data Sør. They promised to get back to me within 48 hours, so I suppose I need to be patient. Still, the whole situation has left me feeling... violated somehow. Like someone has been reading my diary and then pretending to be me.
Perhaps that's why I'm feeling so restless. Or maybe it's simply time to move on from Lyon. I've been here for a few days now, and while I've enjoyed exploring the traboules and the silk district, I find myself thinking about what comes next. I'm scheduled to leave on the 13th, just two days from now, and I'm feeling the pull of new places.
I still have a few things I want to see here, though. The Museum of Fine Arts yesterday was interesting, but I didn't fully engage with it - too distracted by the AI situation. I'm considering revisiting this afternoon when my mind is hopefully clearer. I also want to spend more time in Vieux Lyon, exploring more of those fascinating hidden passageways.
For lunch, I'm thinking of trying one of the local bouchons that my hotel receptionist recommended. Something traditional and Lyonnaise seems appropriate for my penultimate day here. Then perhaps I'll head to Parc de la Tête d'Or if the weather improves as forecast.
As I sit here watching people pass by, I realize I'm approaching the 50-day mark of my journey. Almost 1/10th of the way through my sabbatical, and what have I learned? What has changed? I'm not sure yet. Perhaps nothing profound, but I feel myself settling into the rhythm of travel, developing new routines and habits that work on the road.
The coffee here is decent, though it lacks the richness I prefer. The croissant, however, was excellent - buttery and flaky in all the right ways. Small pleasures become more significant when you're far from home.
I should probably start planning where I'll go after Lyon. I've been thinking about heading south, maybe to Marseille or Nice, before the weather turns too cold. Or perhaps east toward Italy? The beauty of this journey is that I don't have to decide right now. I can simply follow my instincts when the time comes.
For now, though, I'll finish my coffee, pay the bill, and continue exploring this fascinating city, trying to be present in the moment rather than letting my restlessness carry me away too soon.
46 days down, 454 to go