20 years ago today – Day 72

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Tuesday, May 14th – Lyons to Villefranche-sur-Saone, 3340 km

We are up early today because the CISL offers breakfast only until 8:30 and we must be out of our rooms by 9. On the way to breakfast, I reach Gordon Carmen by phone, and we arrange to meet him at his office in Villefranche-sur-Saone at 5pm. That means we will need to leave Lyons about two and a half hours before, giving us half an hour to spare in case of mechanical problems, weather, etc. We stash our bags in a storeroom in the centre and agree to meet back at the CISL at 2:30.

We catch a bus to the train station and walk to Place Bellecoeur, where we begin our tour of the old city. We separate. I want to see the Basilica de Notre Dame de Fourviere, on a hill overlooking the old city, but Mike is suffering from a severe case of AFC (Another Fucking Cathedral), which often affects those who have been traveling through Europe after a couple months. It also known as Another Fucking Castle, or Another Fucking Chateau. He prefers just to wander through the streets today.

The church looks dramatic on the bluff overlooking the city. It has a classic style about it, but once I reach it, it is the view over the city that is most memorable. I climb down into the immigrant section of the city, just north of the old city, and then tour the old city itself. Lyons proves to be quite walkable, as well as being pretty and varied. It used to be the capital of Roman Gaul 2000 years ago, and before that a Celtic fortress, but not much that ancient remains. There is a large historic area but they buildings are mostly from the last three centuries. In spite of Lyons’s reputation for fine dining, there are many restaurants with very affordable menus. Unfortunately, I probably never visit them.

I have enough time so I walk back to the CISL to meet Mike. He’s not there at 2:15 so I change into my cycling gear and get the bags out of the storeroom, ready to load onto our bikes. He shows up right at 2:30, when we should be leaving, and it takes him to 3:05 before we leave. I am anxious because I don’t want to keep Gordon waiting.

Getting out of Lyons isn’t as easy as coming in. We get tangled with the other vehicles in a maze of congested one-way streets. We make good time once we are out of the city, averaging almost 30 km/hr, which allows us to arrive at Gordon’s workplace just as he comes looking for us. It couldn’t be more perfect than this. He leads us back to his place not far away.

Gordon is a tall fellow, aged 36, with animated voice and gestures as he describes things. He is a Canadian from Toronto who has been living here 11 years, though this is the first year he has been a legal resident with a work permit. He came to Europe to do a solo bike trip from Amsterdam to Italy. He tells us stories of staying in monasteries with gay monks across France, but on the whole he found it too difficult to cycle alone. The only time he was not lonely was when he was cycling, so he began to cycle longer and longer hours each day, until he became sick and exhausted, and began to resent every flaw in the weather. When he reached Italy he tossed his bike off a cliff into the Mediterranean.

He got a job under the table in Italy, having made friends with the woman owner. She owned a restaurant in France and employed him there under the table too, for several years. Later, he worked in the mountains of Provence to help repair a village. Over the past ten years, he has gone from speaking no French to being fluent. He has been single since leaving Toronto, and still works in the restaurant in Sicily out of loyalty every year. He has been living in Villefranche for a year, teaching English to businessmen and professionals in a school here. He has a new bike and says he’s the only resident of the town who rides his bike to work.

His place is very small. We shop for groceries and then cook dinner for the three of us in his little kitchen. He has to prepare lessons for tomorrow but wants us to keep talking to him while he works. We keep him happily chatting until bedtime. Then he pushes aside the table and chairs so we have room to sleep on his kitchen floor.


PHOTO 1: old Lyons from Notre Dame de Fouryiere
PHOTO 2: field of Sunflowers on the way to Villefranche
PHOTO 3: typical Villefranche street
PHOTO 4: Cathedral in Villefranche
PHOTO 5: building on main street