Category Archives: Lyon

Rain Drops

We have enjoyed having visitors this last week.

The unseasonably wet weather made some of our plans impossible but thankfully Lyon has plenty to show visitors even in the rain. We made the most of the situation and have indulged our guests as best we can.

Rain droplets on a leaf.

Rain droplets on a leaf.

While our guests were pointing their camera lens at the horizon, I had some fun photographing the tiny. The photo above is clichéd but it still looks great.

Graffiti covered van near Masséna

Singing

There have been more than a few disturbed nights since moving to Lyon. Noise from the street or neighbours disrupting my much needed quiet.

I have learned to love silicone ear plugs. I can not sleep well in them but they let me rest, sleep for a while, and come out as soon as possible. I recently tried wax ear plugs but they did not match the noise blocking or comfort of the silicone equivalents.

What surprised me is the cause of noise. Obvious noises of a party I expected: chatter, occasional shouts, and music. What caught me out, and continues to leave me wondering, is the singing.

The locals, at least here, like to sing in groups in the early hours. We first heard them singing in the bars near our temporary accommodation. Older men singing in drunken unison. Powerful voices singing timeless songs.

That seemed endearing. A group of older men getting slowly tipsy during the night and then joining as one for a song before ambling home.

What then of students singing.

Graffiti covered doorway near Croix Rousse

Graffiti covered doorway near Croix Rousse

Our peace is broken by the odd party next door – or somewhere close by in our apartment building. Young students throwing a party that starts too late and goes on until shortly before the sun rises. Suitably unrespectable hours by all measures.

They started sining the other night. Without obvious reason or trigger. But not timeless classics; they sang the words of recent dance music favourites. It was both brilliant, hilarious, and captivating. Funny partly because the words were English and occasionally the group would fade as the lyrics became too difficult to sing but returning with force for the chorus. Captivating because the group split the roles by gender. In some songs the girls sang one part, the boys another part.

I think at least one song was older and taught to them as children. The university students sang this song particularly well.

I struggle to imagine a mixed group of students bursting into song at a party in Australia or UK. Too self aware or too constrained to risk making a fool of themselves. Drama students – absolutely. A group of female friends – absolutely but maybe not in a pub, club, or larger party.

Something charming about the singing but I wish it would not intrude during the earliest hours of the morning.

A squirrel in the park.

Another Squirrel

Squirrels are out and about across the Parc de la Tête d’Or. I have previously shared a photo of a local squirrel, but today I took a little footage and put together the short film below.

On a side note, iMovie 11 has started crashing my Mac Pro. It makes putting these films together impossible on my most capable Mac; instead I have to borrow Megan’s MacBook Pro. I have reported the problem as best I can as a customer to Apple; the recent decline of software quality at Apple is concerning.

Spring blossom in the park.

Spring blossom in the park.

Colour returns to the park.

Colour returns to the park.

A lit up greenhouse stands out in the mist.

Escaping My Enclosure

I have looked forward to my first walk since the surgery with delight. We often walk in the local park to escape our apartment and the trials of the day. So I dreaded being stuck inside while I recovered.

Ducks on our local park lake in Lyon

Ducks on our local park lake in Lyon

I was not disappointed by my first slow, and a touch uncomfortable, walk yesterday evening. The rain had just stopped when we stepped outside and the light was fading. It made for a magical environment and a near deserted park. Only a few runners looping the edge shared the quiet paths with us.

Lamp posts and trees in our local park.

Lamp posts and trees in our local park.

Consultation room at Tonkin Radiology, Lyon

An Unwilling Encore

The week has been a swirl of emotion and activity. Once again I have found myself venturing into the French medical establishment. This time for something a touch more serious than a simple fall.

Those that know me personally will appreciate my attitude as I deal with what needs doing – a quiet focused determination that leaves little time for much else.

I will be fine; that is not my focus here.

A worn corridor in the Tonkin Clinic, Lyon

A worn corridor in the Tonkin Clinic, Lyon

Section R, Hopital Croix Rousse, Lyon

Section R, Hopital Croix Rousse, Lyon

There is something about visiting various medical buildings that lingers. They feel a touch unreal. Doors along corridors that open automatically – highlighting the expected direction of traffic. Staff in white wearing sensible shoes moving quietly around confused members of the public. The smokers standing just outside of the building catching a moment of peace and nicotine while they wait for the next burst of activity.

The French medical system has a positive reputation in the United Kingdom. We hear stories of better service, better facilities, and less cost cutting. Specifics are rarely mentioned, just France is somehow better.

The British forget that in France going to a doctor is likely to involve a payment. They forget that in France individuals are recommended to have top-up insurance; the state does not cover the full cost of treatment. They forget that the system expects more from you.

In the United Kingdom, healthcare is mostly out of your hands. You go to the doctor and the National Health Service (NHS), puts you on a treadmill of care. Appointments are made for you, you go where and when you are told. You learn to expect delays and waiting periods but never a fee, never a personal cost when you need treatment. All those costs have been dealt with through every salary cheque and every pay packet.

In France, we are discovering the expectation on the patient is greater. I am learning to appreciate why and the control it puts in my hands. I am not sure I need the control but it is a point of difference.

Here you are responsible for your medical file. You get copies of all your tests, you see the bulk of the paperwork carrying your name. With every appointment, test, scan, or interaction your file grows. The mountain of paperwork can feel overwhelming but a pattern establishes itself and life goes on.

Much of the French medical system is changing. Swipe cards for medical services have appeared. Doctors are being jostled into a more active role for administering patients’ files. As with the NHS, the French system seems to be in near constant change and reform.

As an outsider venturing for the first time in the serious units of my local massive modern hospital, I am both scared and in awe of the treatment.

It took thirteen months to get my carte vitale. I did not expect it to be so essential so soon.

Graffiti in Lyon

Graffiti in Lyon tends to be a form of tagging. Marks executed with no artistic intent; an expression of defiance and a desire to mark a location. One tagger went a step further than marking a wall, they had tagged a hedge.

A hedge tagged with the initials "BF"

A hedge tagged with the initials “BF”

I appreciate graffiti art but dislike tagging. I hope the notion of tagging plants is rare.

There is some political graffiti here and there around our neighbourhood. It tends to be cleaned away quickly. One instance stood out for being repeated in two languages – particularly enjoyable given the subject matter.

Political graffiti reads "frontex mur d'europe"

Political graffiti reads “frontex mur d’europe”

Political graffiti reads "no ground for frontex"

Political graffiti reads “no ground for frontex”

I much preferred the attitude and execution of graffiti in Melbourne. There the council had a different approach and it seemed to encourage a thriving world of street art.

Cathedral of lights along rue de Président Édouard Heriot

Fête des lumières

Fête des lumières (festival of lights) is Lyon’s largest annual festival. During the four days of festivities the centre of the city swells with visitors enjoying the light shows and art installations.

This was our first Fête des lumières and we made the most of our easy access into the city centre. We were able to visit different sections of the city each night and I did my best to film a little of what we saw. A series of short films are embedded below and available on YouTube.

My point-and-shoot Canon camera does not excel with night photographs. During the evenings I saw many large semi-professional cameras being lugged around; hopefully those doing the lugging were able to better capture the magic of the lights.

A selection of my photographs from the festival appear below. They give some flavour of the event.

Christmas lights along Cours Franklin Roosevelt, Lyon

Christmas lights along Cours Franklin Roosevelt, Lyon

Illuminated statue at Place du Maréchal Lyautey

Illuminated statue at Place du Maréchal Lyautey

Crowds gather to watch a projection on Théâtre des Célestins

Crowds gather to watch a projection on Théâtre des Célestins

Installation in Parc Hôtel de Ville

Installation in Parc Hôtel de Ville

Orbs of shadows in jardin de la Grande Côte

Orbs of shadows in jardin de la Grande Côte

Lamps arranged near montée de la Grande Côte

Lamps arranged near montée de la Grande Côte

Light installation on rue de Brest

Light installation on rue de Brest

Crowds gather in Place Bellecour

Crowds gather in Place Bellecour

Lyon's ferris wheel in Place Bellecour

Lyon’s ferris wheel in Place Bellecour

Lights line rue Victor-Hugo

Lights line rue Victor-Hugo

Cathedral of lights along rue de Président Édouard Heriot

Cathedral of lights along rue de Président Édouard Heriot

The park was awash with an autumnal palette.

Fête des feuilles

We came back from sunny Australia just in time to see the fête des feuilles in Lyon’s Parc de la Tête d’Or. It was by chance that we stumbled upon the open air exhibit of autumnal works.

A small section of the park had been sign posted and art exhibits placed along a path. Some pieces were obvious, others were cleverly woven into the surrounding trees and landscape.

Sign post pointing the way to the festival of leaves.

Sign post pointing the way to the festival of leaves.

The first signs of autumn as leaves change colour.

The first signs of autumn as leaves change colour.

The park was awash with an autumnal palette.

The park was awash with an autumnal palette.

The exhibits lined a wooded section of the park.

The exhibits lined a wooded section of the park.

Tent of leaves.

Tent of leaves.

Birds sculpted from leaves perch on broken cart wheels.

Birds sculpted from leaves perch on broken cart wheels.

A stream crowned by fallen leaves.

A stream crowned by fallen leaves.

Gradient of leaves arranged across the water.

Gradient of leaves arranged across the water.

Logs carved into giant crayons.

Logs carved into giant crayons.

Watching the park change with each season has been a highlight of moving to Lyon. A simple pleasure that helps mark the gradual passing of the year.

Awe inspiring clouds stretch to the horizon.

Clouds

Being above the clouds is awe inspiring. Vast distances of soft cloud stretch out in every direction.

Awe inspiring clouds stretch to the horizon.

Awe inspiring clouds stretch to the horizon.

For most of the short flight between London and Lyon, the clouds formed a level surface. Every so often a small patch of cloud stood out and above the surrounding layer.

I have no idea why this cloud stands above the others.

I have no idea why this cloud stands above the others.

Zooming in to crop out the plane window.

Zooming in to crop out the plane window.

An odd piece of cloud lingers above the surrounding layer.

An odd piece of cloud lingers above the surrounding layer.

As we crossed over France, the cloud thinned and we were treated to rolling countryside and sights of scattered small French towns and villages.

The coast line of France appears far below.

The coast line of France appears far below.

French villages scattered across the countryside below us.

French villages scattered across the countryside below us.

The landscape became more rolling as we approached Lyon.

The landscape became more rolling as we approached Lyon.