Gavin and I had never heard of Lyon before but decided to stop there so that we wouldn’t have to make the 12 hour trek from Barcelona to Paris in one day. We also stopped there so we could take a break from all of the constant traveling we were doing (it also didn’t hurt that it was cheaper than Paris) When we made our reservations in Barcelona we had a bit of a problem. We were able to get reservations from Barcelona to Avignon but from Avignon to Lyon we only had 40 minutes to make a reservation for the high speed train when we arrived in Avignon.
Upon our arrival we raced to the ticket counter only to be told that only first class seats were available and that we would have to pay for the reservation as well as the difference between our 2nd class rail pass and the 1st class train ticket: €100. Or we could take a regional train that was three hours longer for free. We took the regional train.
When we boarded the regional train we were greeted with world famous French manners. Every single seat was taken. By taken I mean that one person would sit down then place their luggage on the seat next to them; even though there was plenty of space on the luggage rack above for their belongings.
Gavin and I travelled three train cars trying to find a seat until we gave up. We settled on sitting in two isle seats, one next to a woman who was occupying the seat next to her with her purse and one next to a man who was occupying the seat next to him with a small pack of cigarettes. We sat on the train for three uneventful hours.
When we arrived in Lyon we were bombarded by the busiest train station I had ever seen in my life. There was no place to even stop and think it was all so overwhelming. We needed to figure out where our hotel was but we were too overwhelmed to think. We finally found a place to sit and we used google maps to get instructions on how to get to our hotel. Unfortunately google didn’t have a proper map of the area (that’s something the city must submit apparently) and we knew how to get 90% of the way and we hoped we could figure out where the hotel was upon arrival. We took the local tram to Perrache and got off under a giant overpass that reeked of urine. We didn’t feel particularly safe under the underpass so we quickly ran out and into the sunlight. We walked two streets then looked up and saw our hotel. We didn’t like that it was by the underpass but it was close to transit so we weren’t going to complain.
After we checked into our hotel we were told the strangest thing: whenever we leave the building we have to surrender our key. A hotel has never asked us to surrender a key before it was definitely unusual. We walked into the elevator and we were shocked to see that it was so tiny there was barely enough room for us and our bags! We suffocated our way to the top floor and ran out of the elevator and into our room. The room was the tiniest hotel room I had ever been in. There was space for the bed and that was it. The bathroom was one meter by one meter and was so cramped that when you used the toilette your feet were in the shower. Despite its shortcomings we were happy to have our own space at least.
We travelled to the old town from our hotel (which was very close but forced us to go through that horrid underpass). We ventured for a short time because we we were starving and ended up at a British fish and chips restaurant. We chatted with the owner who knew english very well from living in South Africa. We watched him dip the cod in batter and fry our fish and fries with tears of joy. This was the first time in weeks that food was being made for us from scratch and not cooked from frozen. We grabbed the fish and chips (and a delicious chocolate brownie) and ran to our hotel. After eating we decided to catch up on sleep.
The next day I woke up with a sore throat. Thinking nothing of it Gavin and I wandered off to find breakfast. Our hotel was offering a continental breakfast for €7 a person. We politely declined. Gavin bought an apple pastry and I had a giant raspberry macaron (which are apparently the regular size, the small ones are mini macarons, who knew!). We wandered further and found a cafe that gave us a sandwich, drink, desert and tea for €9. I got Quiche Lorraine instead of a sandwich, Orangina, lemon meringue pie and mint tea. Gavin got a sandwich, Orangina, a strawberry tart and French coffee. All of the food was made in house and we enjoyed every bite of it.
Afterwards we went to the train station and booked our reservation to Paris. Once again we found the high speed reservations a bit expensive so instead of two hours on a high speed train we booked the regional train that took 5 hours and left at 3pm.
By the time it was dinner time I had started to get very sick. I couldn’t breathe in smoke or perfume and I could barely speak. We wandered the old town and found a restaurant. Unfortunately in France the restaurants open at 7pm, not earlier so we had to wait 20 minutes before we could sit down and eat. I ordered tagliatelle in cream sauce with roasted tomatoes and bacon and Gavin had a large goat cheese salad.
After eating, my cold had gotten increasingly worse, so we asked the hotel if we could check out later. They extended our check out until 12pm. The next day after we checked out we had to kill 3 hours in Lyon, and I was still very sick. After getting some snacks for our train ride we went to McDonald’s and bought the McBaguette. I was tempted to buy macarons (because you know in European McDonald’s sells macarons). After two hours in McDonald’s we went to the train station and caught our train to Paris!