a new beginning

I've changed the blog title.

The new title, "the red bicycle", refers to Lyon's city-subsidized two-wheeled mode of transportation. But the really funny part is this: when I was getting ready to move to Lyon, I had a thought that I would change my blog title once I'm here, and just a second later the phrase "the red bicycle" popped in my head.

I'm not making this up!

I remember thinking to myself, why bicycle? I don't even own one. Why not "a red crayon"? But the phrase kind of stuck in my mind. Then I came to Lyon, and I understood why!

It's also an ode to one of my favorite films, The Red Violin. Kind of.

So here's to a new beginning, a new adventure, a new chapter in life.

As for actually taking advantage of these wonderfully available red bicycles, I will be able to do so once I have the resident ID. Which I will be able to obtain soon now that we have a signed lease on an apartment. Which we won't get into until middle of September. But that's a completely different story.....

lost, even without translation

It's always hard for me to get oriented in a new place because I have a terrible sense of direction -- one turn and I'm lost. I could be walking in one direction convinced that I'm going the right way and be 90 degrees off. Or going exactly the opposite way. Honestly.

It doesn't help that I can't even pronounce most of the street names in this city. There are two streets nearby that intersect each other, and after three weeks I still don't know which is which because they have similar names (well, they look similar to me). Sometimes I feel totaly defeated.

But there's beauty in getting lost, because that's an opportunity for finding new things -- provided that I don't have to worry about another individual; i.e., my son.

I'm looking forward to getting lost, all by myself, once E starts school in September. The weather will be also nice by then, perhaps encouraging me to walk further and get even more lost.

Until then, I'll always take a map with me, and check it at every turn I make. Or maybe I should get a GPS.

remember

Somebody's watching over me.

on this earth

People going, and living, everywhere.

I am here, now.

everyone has to eat

But not everyone can eat here. No, we didn't eat here, either, but we were in the neighborhood. Literally. So we had to drive by.

Institut Paul Bocuse has a restaurant where the students cook and serve, and there, a meal for two can be had for 150 euro or so, I'm told. That, I'm willing to try and I think perhaps I'm worth the price tag. Perhaps.





This morning, we walked by the Rhone to go to the Sunday Market. E, who was born and raised in the U.S. and isn't used to walking much, objects to walking the city blocks but not when we're walking by the water.

I shopped the market while M watched E play on the river bank. I visited four or five different vendors and tried my non-existent French on them, and they all humored me except one older gentleman from whom I bought olives. We cooked the vegetables for dinner -- they were all very good, but the green beans were the best.


Next week, I'll muster my courage to talk to a cheese vendor.

welcome to france

Let's start it right, with a good breakfast.

fly, fly away

If a baby elephant can fly, anything is possible.