Walking

When I had imagined where I would live in Lyon, I had hoped it would be about a twenty minute walk away from the École. That way, every morning, I would walk, stop by a boulangerie, buy a pain au raisin, and eat it on the way to school. I could prepare myself for listening to French for a long long time. And I'd become in a lot better shape.

But, as it happens, the École is basically in my back yard. Or I'm in its back yard. I haven't really decided yet which is more important.

Today, anyway, I took a walk that lasted a bit more than two hours. I'm a half hour south of the city center, by foot, and I went there, crossed over to the presqu'isle, the "almost island", that sepparates the Rhone and Saone rivers that go through the city, then crossed over again to the Old City, which is one of the best preserved Renaissance cities, and walked back along that side, towards home.

During the walk, I saw blinking blue lights going down the side of the Rhone, chasing after bikes (they were the dividers for a bike lane), bmx'ers at the skate park in the middle of town, Batman suiting up on a pedestrian bridge . . .

And on my way back, a long, tall stone wall, which opened up on a huge gate, behind which were two stone staircases winding up and around. It was very pretty. You couldn't see anything after that, but I bet it was a huge mansion.

I also learned that the quais of Lyon, the banks, sort of, except that they're build up with walls, and have walkways going along, I learned that they're very safe. In Paris, they can get a bit sketchy at night. But here, I was walking along after dark, and on the way up, there were families and stuff just walking along.

On the way back along that wall (which didn't only have the mansion behind it- it was much longer than that), at some point, you leave Lyon proper, and it becomes pretty much deserted. It's odd- Lyon goes down a lot farther on my bank than on the opposite one. So, I'm walking along, not sure if I should be nervous, and then there are running footsteps behind me, which make me start. And the jogger runs along side me, and starts saying thing in French, very nicely, and he's smiling. I didn't understand because of his accent, I think, and because he was speaking quickly, but in the end I decided that he told me that it was safe, and I shouldn't worry. And that I'd probably see him again soon. And then I see him up ahead, jogging back, and I guess he expects me to be doing laps, too, so he says, A bientot, see you soon.

Which brings me to something else. The Lyonais are _nice_. I mean, seriously. I asked a girl on the street once to help me find my bank, and she didn't know, and so I'm wandering around and finally I get some directions, and then I happen to pass her on the street, and she calls out to me to ask if I found it. And the secretaries who helped me take care of things like my housing and my office and stuff- they walked everywhere with me for two whole days to get everything taken care of. One of them even brought me kitchen stuff to use, so I wouldn't have to buy stuff just for a year. And it just sort of keeps going from there. It's not like Parisians aren't nice. But the tempo there is a lot faster, or something . . .

So, life is going well. Now I shall have some tea.