An American in Provence

 

bagels & cream cheese
Grape soda
mac & cheese
rootbeer
cheetos
chicken pot pie
Starburst
bacon
sausage
french toast
Frosties
caramel corn
dill pickles
Cheerios
Swiss Miss
cheddar cheese
guacamole & tortilla chips
grilled cheese sandwich

I am heading back up to Strasbourg for a week-long preparation seminar for my exams in March.

I just wanted to leave all my dear readers with this picture from Thailand.



My favorite is the one on the top right.

Guess I should come out of my hole and say that we made it back to France, and into 2011.
We had a great time in Thailand, for which I shall dedicate several posts.

First off, I am going to start with the flights, there and back.
Let me preface this by the past two times we have gone to see my family (in Colorado, 2006, 2008) the trips have been hellacious.
Christmas 2006
Christmas 2008
After these above two trips Alain sternly informed me "Never again are we going to your parents' in Colorado for Christmas. Unpredictable weather plus overbooked flights plus two or more connections is a no-can do." He commented that we had a 100% Christmas travel problem rate, which was not looking good. I argued that it was only a 50% rate, as the return trips for those two trips went well, but he said it was the overall trip that counts. I disagreed.

After much arguing, begging, and pleading, I got him to agree to go to Thailand this year, as it will be our last opportunity to go, as my sister and her family are leaving this year. He is not the best of travelers. He was worried that the plane would crash, that he would catch some horrible tropical disease, that he wouldn't be able to get his work done on time, etc.

Anyway, we were scheduled to leave from Marseille on Friday afternoon December 17th, to Munich, then to Bangkok.
When we tried to check in, we were informed that the flights to/from Germany were experiencing delays due to bad weather in Germany. They weren't sure when our flight would leave. We were scheduled for a three-hour layover in Munich, so we had a little leeway, but not too much. There was some confusion as well, because there were two flights Marseille-Munich scheduled about 2 hours apart, and almost the same numbers 2556 and 2558. We decided to wait until we found out whether there was actually going to BE a flight that day before surrendering our luggage. However, due to the similarities of the flight numbers, we almost missed the last check-in for our flight. We were forced to check-in, without being sure we would get out on Friday. I guess if you have to be stuck somewhere, it is better to be stuck at home, but when you have a squirrely traveling companion, it is best to get them en route so that they no longer have a choice of whether they will go or not. At least if we were stuck in Munich we would be almost forced to go on, but if we were stuck in Marseille for a day or two, I would have had that much more trouble to get him on the plane.

We checked in, went through security (next to the noisy Russian on his cellphone for 30 minutes), and got in the puddle-jumper, leaving about 2 hours later than scheduled. It was not the most reassuring plane for bad weather. They tried to stuff the passengers from both flights onto the one plane. I think they succeeded for the most part.

We got to Munich and went through passport control. They saw in my passport that I had been out of the US for awhile, so asked what I was doing here (in Europe). Don't arrest me, it's his fault. I showed him my carte de sejour (luckily I brought it with me), which I guess was acceptable. Alain went through next and was told "I guess you don't need a carte de sejour."
It turns out that our flight to Bangkok was delayed as well. I was hoping we would have some seats around us empty, but no such luck. We were seated in the middle 4-wide row of the huge plane. I was next to some German women who wouldn't shut up. After the meal I asked if they could please lower their voices as it was 1 a.m. and most everyone around was sleeping. They got all huffy and did not.

We arrived on Saturday, around 3 in the afternoon. It was quite a thermal shock, going from the blizzards of Germany to the heat of Bangkok. We got off and followed the hordes to customs. While filling out the customs form I saw the indication "Visa Number". Oh drat. Honey, um, I hope we don't actually need a visa.... Was a bit nervous that we would be sent back to France (for which Alain would never forgive me and I am sure we would never be going anywhere for Christmas again, or maybe just ever.) I guess tourists don't have a problem though because we were waved through without any problems. My sister was there waiting for us, and our luggage even came through!

Our return flight was on New Year's Eve. As I generally despise New Year's, missing this did not bother me.

We were scheduled to leave for the airport at around 9 p.m. for our flight at 11:50 pm. A little before we left, my brother-in-law Larry got a phone call from a buddy (Orlando) of his (whose wife works with my sister Leah). She is American and he is from the Dominican Republic. Her parents, brother and sister-in-law were in town for the holidays, and I guess he needed to get out of the house. In response to the question of what we were going for New Year's Larry told him that an airport run was scheduled and jokingly said he could come along if he had nothing better to do. Orlando accepted (I guess he REALLY needed to get away from his in-laws), so a little after 9, Alain, Larry, Mom, Dad, Orlando, and I piled into Larry's van, and we drove to the airport. It was a bit weird saying goodbye to family with a complete stranger there, but he moved away a bit to give us some privacy.

After our goodbyes, we went through passport control again (on a tourist visa must leave the country within 30 days or else there is a fine), then security, then went to the gate. The plane left a little before midnight, and was still in the ascent at midnight. They didn't make an announcement, or pass around champagne, or anything. No chatty Germans this time, for which I was thankful. I took two sleeping pills, put on my sleep mask and ear plugs, and managed to sleep a bit. On planes, I prefer to put my head forward, either on the tray or else against the back of the seat in front. However, as the person in front put their seat back (and we were in Economy) I couldn't lie straight, so had to lie in a neck-twisting position. Got off the plane (in Frankfurt this time) at 5 a.m. with a stiff neck.

Again through passport control and security, but no customs. I was worried that we should have picked up our luggage then re-checked it, but it made it to Marseille, so I guess not.

We were wandering around the Frankfurt airport, waiting for a damn coffee shop to open, when Alain ran into a former PhD student (Ivan) of his. Ivan is French-American and finished his thesis in October, then moved to Chicago for a post-doc position. He went to Budapest to see his girlfriend for the holidays, and was on his way back to Chicago. Very strange. Ivan didn't have much time before his flight, so they didn't chat long.

We got our flight to Marseille at around 8:30, getting back to Marseille at 10. We got our suitcase and were about to exit the secure area when a controller stopped us. He asked whether we were coming from Bangkok. We looked at each other and said yes. He asked if we had anything to declare. Um, no? He let us go. Alain was terrified that when leaving Bangkok we would get arrested for drugs that someone slipped in our suitcase and that we would be throw into Thai jail for 20 years. When we were stopped, the thought briefly crossed my mind. Noooo!! I'm an American!!! My sister works for the Embassy!!!

We weren't as exhausted coming back from Thailand as we were going. New Year's dinner was moved to the 2nd, at our request. I thought we would be too tired the day we arrived, but it turns out that we were somewhat awake. It always seems easier to adjust going from east to west than west to east (unless you cross the international date line). I wonder why that is?

Anyway, it was our best Christmas travel experience yet.

I guess it is time to come out of my hot-summer-days induced blogging daze and start posting again.

Alain and I went to San Remo, Italy for a long weekend early July. We left on Friday night (I had the day off from work and spent it doing laundry, preparing our stuff to take, and running errands). When Alain got home from work, we threw everything in the car and took off around 7 pm. I was worried that there would be a lot of traffic, but it wasn't too bad. Stopped for a sandwich before Nice, then got to San Remo around 10 pm. Hauled everything in, made up the bed, and fell asleep.

Boy was it hot! Alain always complains about the beds in their pied-à-terre, but I have found that I can sleep on pretty much anything. Must be the military school training. Seriously. I used to sleep curled up on the floor underneath my desk, just so the upperclassmen wouldn't look in my room and see me napping (not allowed).

We woke up the next morning, wandered over to the Saturday morning market (fake Louis Vuitton, Burberry, Dior bags galore) bought some food, some shorts for him, a dress, shoes, and purse for me (why do you need more shoes and purses!?) . Then we headed back to the house. That was quite a bit of effort, and it was hot, so we took a nap. Then we went down to the beach, swam a little bit, then back to the house.

Had a very Italian meal of pasta, proscuitto, wine and tomatos.

After that long hard day, we went to sleep about 10 pm. Boy, vacations are hard!

Sunday was a bit rainy, yet still hot, and Alain decided he couldn't take it anymore. We had to buy a fan. We finally found one at a nearby store called Conad (I hate that name. It sounds like a mix between Con (french for idiot) and Gonad).

Took another nap Sunday afternoon, then went to the beach. It smelled funny (funny like sewage) and nobody was swimming. Hmm, I guess that is a sign.

On Monday, we went on our annual trip up into the mountains. We went to our favorite town, Triora, and had lunch at L'Erba Gatta, like every year. Walked around the town a bit, and went up to the cemetary.

When we got back to San Remo, Alain wasn't feeling well. He rested for awhile, and I walked around downtown. Bought a carton of icecream (his favorite thing in the whole wide world. well, maybe tied with spaghetti) and tried to cheer him up.

On Tuesday, he still wasn't feeling too well. We walked around a bit downtown by the Old Harbor. We were planning on leaving on Wednesday, but he was sick and tired and hot and I was just hot, so we decided to head back to Marseille. We went back to the house, packed and cleaned, and got on the road about 5 pm. Made it back to Marseille without a problem, unloaded, unpacked, and were happy to be home.

Some years when we go to San Remo we want to stay a few days more, and some years we leave sooner than expected. This was rather an off year. We didn't go roller blading, didn't go out for dinner, didn't spend much time at the beach.

I think we were both exhausted from the long year- me with my studies and he with his work.

Alain just got back last night from five days in Moscow. He left Monday morning for a conference there. He was invited to give a speech.

On Thursday morning, I received a panicky email from him. Apparently, his debit card wasn't working, which meant he couldn't pay for his hotel. The expiration date of the card is 06-2010, so last month he went to the bank to ask whether that meant the beginning of the month or the end of the month. No worries! You can use it until the end of the month. When the card didn't work, he thought it was because the card was expired. I called the bank, and of course the only person who knows us was out of the office until next Monday. It turns out that it wasn't expired, he had used it "too much" (since when is 200€ too much?) They asked whether he could call them and send him a copy of his ID card. Um, no he is in RUSSIA at a University and barely has access to email. I forwarded his help message to the woman, as well as a copy of his passport, my passport, and our marriage certificate. Awhile later I got a call from the bank, asking for more info, and then I guess they unblocked the card.

At any rate, he was able to borrow some money from another guy there, and has to send a check to him next week to pay him back.
On Thursday they visited what was formerly a nunnery, and then downtown Moscow on Friday, before flying back (via Prague) Friday night, getting in at 11 pm.

We slept in this morning, then he treated me to the happy news of "I think I lost my wedding ring." What?!
This is not a man who wears his wedding ring often, which I think is part of the problem. He doesn't like wearing it, only wears it when I hold him down and force it on him (like when he is going away somewhere). Apparently, his fingers swelled, so he took it off and "put it somewhere".
This was not an expensive ring mind you, about 50$ in titanium, but it was still special.
Anyway, after some searching through his pockets, he managed to find it. Back in the drawer.

On yet another sunny Bretagne day, Alain and I went with his parents to visit the nearby Chateau de Kerjean.

We waited around, enjoying the sun, (it's a joke) then went on the tour. They had a temporary exhibition about festivals in the way-back-when, then we toured the rest of the castle.


All I can say is, seeing the temperature in August, I wouldn't want to live here in January 200 years ago.

The bed? Looks like it sleeps about two right? Wrong! Try cramming four people in there. The tour guide asked us where we thought the baby bassinet was placed. Hmm, on the floor? No. In the trunk? No, quand même. We gave up.
The baby bassinet was suspended by ropes in the lit-clos above everyone. Well, guess they were warm, but maybe a bit stunted in their growth.

We visited the subterranean kitchens, the guard house, the chapels, the dove cote, but decided against touring the grounds.

I don't have much more to say about it. Mainly because it was many moons ago, and also because my brain is too full of French Intellectual Property Law in preparation for my practice test tomorrow, that I can do little more than eat pretzels and wish I was getting a foot rub.

Here's a little bit more about the place (in French only, sorry)

http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ch%C3%A2teau_de_Kerjean

The next day of our trip to Bretagne, we went with Alain's parents to visit the town of Morlaix, about 30 km east of the town we were staying in.

It was not a nice day (see my jeans and white rain jacket/windbreaker? that's pretty much all I wore the entire week. So much for bringing tank tops and shorts.)

Here is the town's official website, with some more pictures

http://www.ville.morlaix.fr/fr/tourisme/decouverte/en-images.php

Notice how in all the pictures it is a bright sunshiny day? It must have been the one day a year the sun was shining.

Mayor: it's sunny today! Quick, go take all the pictures for the website!!

We parked and walked around the town a bit, went into the churches, looked for a store selling kouign amann (which, like everything else in Bretagne, is pronounced nothing like it looks- it sounds more like quinaman).

From wikipedia:It is a round crusty cake, made with a dough akin to bread dough with sugar sprinkled between layers. The resulting cake is slowly baked until the butter puffs up the dough (resulting in the layered aspect of it) and the sugar caramelizes. The name derives from the Breton words for cake ("kouign") and butter ("amann"). Kouign amann is a speciality of the town Douarnenez in Finistère, where it originated in 1865.

It's good but, unlike most Bretons, I wouldn't sell my firstborn for one. It being a Monday, most of the stores were closed, so we went home kouignamannless.

Not much to do in Morlaix besides wander around and look at the churches, taking shelter from the rain.

And oh yeah, Alain got strange looks for wearing his ITALIA sweatshirt.

(I'm rather tapped out for new material now, so I am resurrecting my never-completed Bretagne series about our trip to Bretagne in August)


Saint Pol: 7,500 inhabitants, capital of artichokes and cabbages.

That is certainly true. Passing some fields of artichokes, I figured that it must be the crop for the entire world. Surely there cannot be that many people in the world who like artichokes? What a funny looking plant.

Apparently the town is named after an evangelist Pol-Aurélien who established a large monastery in the 6th century.

Another 7-hour train trip, this time in first class.
When I ordered my tickets for this month, I thought I would check and see what the price difference between first and second class is.
Result...
Round-trip ticket first class for the same price (109€) that I usually pay for second.

Cost for second class (same trains, same dates)?
115€.
Hmmm.... let me think about this.....
First class for less, or second class for more?
Is there a third option, third class for a lot more?

First class on the TGV was practically empty and definitely worth it.
Super-wide reclinable seats, bathrooms with no urine on the floor, plugs for electronics (like laptops), and no screaming children. I guess they aren't allowed in first class.

First class on the Corail system- still good, but not TGV good.
Wider seats, no plugs, and bathrooms not any better than second class.

My only complaint about 1st class on the Corail (well, besides the shocking lack of champagne, caviar, and a personal foot masseuse evidently) is the arm rests between the seats.
In second class, the armrests move up, so you can lie across the two seats and nap. In first class? No idea why but the armrests are fixed in place.
So yeah. It's the little things that make these monthly trips slightly less unbearable.

Next time you take the train in France, check out the prices for second class, you might be pleasantly surprised.

(Oh, and no trains canceled due to strikes, which you can never count on)

On day two of our stay in Bretagne, after rolling out of bed around 9:30 or so (a first for me, I usually wake up much earlier than that, even on vacation) Alain's parents, Alain and I hit the road to drive to Lorient to see his cousin B. and his girlfriend S. who had a baby boy in March. He was quite cute, and is just starting to "eat". (see picture)
We hadn't seen them since our wedding, so it was good to be able to see them again. They have a great duplex apartment, and I turn green with envy everytime I think about how much they paid for it (about 2/3rds of what we paid for ours in Marseille).

We had a late lunch then went for a walk along the seashore, then it was late so we stayed for dinner, then left around 10 pm, getting back to Alain's grandmother's house a little before midnight.

Don't have much to say about Lorient, but it seems like a cute little city. My guidebook says that it has a little over 60,000 inhabitants and that it was almost completely destroyed during WWII. The books says that Lorient is the second biggest port of France for fishing, merchandise, and for pleasure cruises, but I don't really know how they came to this conclusion. Oh, and every year there is an Interceltic Festival for two weeks in August, which seems like it would be fun to go to. Once.

Moi for a day!
I interrupt my Bretagne series to tell you about my trip to Paris yesterday.
I had to go up for my work, for an Entretien d'admission for a program I am hoping to get into.
I took the TGV from Marseille, leaving at 7:30 am. The TGV was rather full, I guess all those people who do weekly commutes up to Paris- leaving Monday morning and coming back Friday night.
Tried to sleep/study/read on the train but couldn't manage to do any of it.

Arrived in Paris a little before 11, and managed to figure out how to get a Metro ticket. I decided to just buy a one-day zone 1-2 pass for 5€ and not have to worry about it. It probably would have been cheaper to buy a one-use ticket each time, but such a hassle. Plus, I didn't know if I would be pressed for time later.

I got on the RER A line and got off at Aubers, where I was going to be meeting one of my colleagues for lunch. He hadn't arrived yet, was taking the train in from St. Cloud, so I decided to walk around a bit, and walked towards the Gare St. Lazare. On the way, I passed a Printemps Paris store, so I went in and looked for a bit at all the expensive displays.

I was a bit offended actually because in their window displays they had stuffed animals (and no, not like teddy bears, like tigers and lions that had been shot and stuffed) and they were dressed up with accessories, like had a purse hanging from their neck and hair clips attached to their ears. I thought it was rather disrespectful to the animals. I didn't have my camera with me- I thought about bringing it, but had enough stuff to carry/worry about. Anyway, in the Printemps store there was a new display for the Yves Saint Laurent perfume Parisienne that is all over the magazines now. Qui est Parisienne? I guess the idea is that every woman can be a Parisienne if you wear this perfume! I toyed with the idea of buying a bottle to commemorate my trip, but I didn't really like the scent that much and for goodness sake I have enough perfumes already, so I didn't.

Walked over to Gare St. Lazare and still had some time to kill, so I found a Starbucks and went in. This is the first Starbucks I have been in France. I found their menu a bit more subdued than in the US, but still managed to have a Caramel Macchiato or something like that. It was good but very expensive- 4.50€ for a small size. Or perhaps I am just out of touch with current US Starbuck's prices.

Met my colleague (well, that is rather pretentious of me- he is a partner of my company) and we went to lunch at Hippopotamus, a steak restaurant. I wasn't very hungry, I had had some McDonald's breakfast on the train (not that great, I might add) and nervous, so I just ordered a salad, most of which I wasn't able to finish.
At 1 we said goodbye and he took the train to return to St. Cloud, and I got back on the Metro to head for my entretien.

I think an advanced degree in Paris Transportation must be required to figure out the Paris public transportation system. My goodness. Tons of different lines going every which way, plus the trains, tramways, buses, subway, and then the different zones...

I got off at my stop, Marx Dormoy at the Rue de la Chapelle in the 18th arrondisement. Not the best part of town I imagine. I walked to the meeting site and went in. There were about 40 other candidates for this program, and I am guessing about 40 more the next day. It was mostly men; I would say 30 men and 10 women or so. I didn't mingle much; I am not a good mingler, even in English. Plus I know the minute I open my mouth I'm going to get "Oh where are you from?" "Why are you here?" etc. I don't mind per se, but at the time I was nervous and just wanted to think about the interview.

At 2 the interview started, and they introduced the professors and explained a bit about the program, then gave us a little test (all in French) and 1 hour to complete it.
After the 1 hour, they collected the papers, and we were divided among the professors, who called us in, one by one, to discuss our papers.

Turns out I did so-so. I did a few things wrong, but then did some others well. I don't think anyone did it perfectly (if so, no real point in going to the program is there?) and I answered the questions that he posed me afterwards well. I think he was impressed by my professional/educational background and the fact that I passed the US exam. I think there is a bit of concern that the French might be too difficult for me, but we shall see.
I should know whether I am accepted or not by the end of the week. I was done with my interview around 4:15, so I walked back and took the metro back to Gare du Lyon, arriving around 5 pm. I was hoping that I would arrive in time to exchange my ticket (originally for 7:30) and catch the 5:15 TGV to Marseille. I was able to exchange it, and left Paris at 5:30. I went up to dining car (though calling it a "dining" car is a bit of a stretch- more like "Snacks, Coffee, Soda and Wine Car") and ordered a coke (3.40€ ouch). But it was worth it because I spent the next two hours looking out the panoramic window and enjoying the view.
Here is what I saw on the return trip:
1 Nuclear Power Plant
16 Windmills
510,564 cows
Got into Marseille at 8:30 and Alain came to meet me at the train station. Actually, he didn't really need to, but I originally thought I would be getting in at 10:30, at which time I wouldn't want to go back to our apartment by myself.
I was exhausted from my trip.

All in all, Paris: nice city, has its good parts and bad parts, but I wouldn't want to live there year-round or work there. Marseille, at about 1 million inhabitants, is large enough (even too large sometimes) for me. Maybe once we are retired I would like to have a small apartment in Paris and spend a few months per year there, go to all the museums and cultural events, then leave after a few months and return to the country.

But somehow, the catch phrase "Qui est Marseillaise?" probably wouldn't sell a lot of perfumes.

Alain and I decided to go to Bretagne for a week at the end of August. This is the first time we have gone in four years. The first time we went it was August 2005, a month after I had arrived. That time, we drove there and back, all 14-15 hours each way, completing the trip in one day.

This time, we decided to fly. Luckily, Ryanair now offers daily flights from Marseille to Brest, and we able to get round-trip tickets for 140€ each, which is about the price it would cost to drive there when you consider the cost of gas, tolls, meals, and especially if we decided to rent a hotel room, plus the extra milage on our 200K+ km car with not-so-good brakes.

So I booked the tickets in July, hoping that Alain would be done with the kitchen by the last week of August. (he was)

It was our first experience flying with low-cost airlines. Though definitely bare-bones, it turned out okay. His parents drove to Bretagne in July, so we were able to send a suitcase full of clothes with them, saving us from having to pay the checked-luggage fee. The only other fee was the cost of the shuttle from Gare St. Charles in Marseille to the airport in Marignane, a total of 34€ for both of us, round-trip.
I dutifully printed out our boarding passes ahead of time, but then neglected to actually read them.

Arrived at the airport, went through security, waited in the line to get on the plane and when we got to the front of the line, I was informed that I could not board because I didn't have the visa check stamp on my ticket. OH DRAT. Quick back through security, waited anxiously in the passport control line, got fed up after the woman in front of me took 5+ minutes to talk to the Ryanair person, then finally just accosted another man behind the counter who said "I don't do that" "I'm going to miss my flight unless you stamp my ticket." (grumble. Brief glance at passport. Stamp on ticket.) "Next time read the ticket." This very complicated process - look at passport, look at ticket to make sure names match, stamp - couldn't be done anywhere else? Heavens no!

Back through security and back to the end of the line of the people STILL waiting to get on board. As we were practically the last ones to board, there were no longer any seats together available, but it wasn't a big deal. I sat next to an elderly woman who kept turning on her cellphone (did you not hear the message 'turn OFF your cell phones'?!) who then swore loudly when we had a slightly rough landing. Managed to resist buying anything on the plane, though the flight attendants sure do peddle the goods hard.

After deboarding, we met Alain's parents and drove half an hour from the airport in Guipavas to where his grandmother lives. The temperature was about half that in Marseille- when we left it was 36°, and in Bretagne it was about 18°. Sure glad I packed tons of shorts and t-shirts! I lived in my jeans and long-sleeved shirts all week long, didn't once put on shorts.
I have a sort-of "If you build it, he will come" mentality to packing. If I pack only warm-weather clothes, it will be nice and sunny, right? Wrong.

Had a late lunch, then I was about to take a nap when Alain's aunt, uncle, and cousin arrived. We chatted for a few hours, then they left and we had dinner and went to bed. I was exhausted because I hadn't slept well the night before, plus we had gotten up early to leave for the airport, plus the stress of flying.

After getting started at the crack of 11 am, we spent the entire day Out of Sync.

We wandered around, trying to find breakfast which is usually pretty easy in France, however, there is not a single boulangerie in all of Lyon. It is true. All of the street-level space is taken up with Expensive Shops. Besides our miserable hike in the Alpes (where it rained the entire time) I have never walked so far in France without coming across a boulangerie. Yet there in middle of the second largest city in France (or third, depending on whether you are talking to a Lyonnais or a Marseillais), there was not a single one to be found. It was too early for lunch, and apparently too late for breakfast. We finally found a Paul (sandwich/boulangerie shop) and managed to get a tiny coffee and pain au chocolat (out of croissants).

Tried to visit a church, but they were having a service (at 11:30 am!! who would have thought?).

We headed over to the Musée de l'Imprimerie, but it closed at noon, reopening at 2. We then decided to head up towards the Croix-Rousse. Rather so-so in my opinion. If you are in Lyon, only go there if you really have seen everything else or else enjoy the smell of urine.

Wandered back and waited for the Musée to reopen. Spent a good two hours visiting the museum, which I highly recommend IF you can read French. If you can't, you will probably be bored. It was really interesting. After we finished with the museum, we were hungry, but now it was too late for lunch but too early for dinner. McDonald's it is! We had some McDonald's by the Place Bellecour, then went to visit the Palatial church- yep, another service at 5 pm. Visited the treasury and waited for the service to be over.

On the way, I saw this maternity wear store, which I thought the name is hilarious. Hey pregnant ladies! Feel like you are as big as house and that you might actually explode? Nothing fits and you might as well wear a rucksack? Come shop at Balloon!


By this time we were tired, so we headed back to the hotel to rest for an hour or so.


Around 8, we wandered out again to find dinner. After much hemming and hawing, we finally decided on a place by the Hotel de Ville. Lyon at night is very beautiful.

Had some ice cream on the way back (not as good as in Italy) and crashed at around 11.