Encore de picniques...

Not that my life in France revolves around food or anything, but with the arrival of more guests in the form of Jo and Emily recently, I had to do the usual tour... market, Velo's and park. What did bring a new element to the whole thing for me however, was having the park closed early by the police due to strong winds. They proceeded to usher a couple of thousand people back out to the envitable scenic route back into town next to the river - roller bladers, pushchairs, pedestrians, toddlers, high winds, rickety Velo's and a open route straight into the river makes for exciting cycling - but great use of the bell - having not used a bell on a bike since I had my stabilisers removed, it is a whole new, yet satisfying experience... nothing like cycling silently behind pedestrians and then ringing your bell loudly. I have now realised why everyone makes

a dash for the newest bikes - nothing to do with inflated tyres or brakes that work, but for the loudest bell. Still, I should exercise caution as I am sure what goes around comes around and some pedestrian will get their own back and I will end up cycling underwater...

An update in the quest for comfy shoes... I have almost given in to the lure of Converse (I will then be truly French) as they appear to be comfortable and readily available, and have opted for an inbetween... I give you spangly, Dorothy-from-the-Wizard-of-Oz-if-they-were-red, Converse, which are nearly comfortable, and of course - Jo! (obviously not trying to detract attention away from my ridiculous facial expression...)

And now for a guess the number of windows competition..... (oh, and if anyone's interested that is a Southwards view down the Saone).

Faire du ski?

I have had an unusual season for skiing, what with my travels. It started off later than a usual year, as I missed out on my annual trip around New Year or January, but I bravely sought out some snow in South Korea at the beginning of February; not too bad, but you can only appreciate the mountains and the view to an extent when the horizon has a dirty slodge of pollution along it in every direction, and there is a faint waft of fermented cabbage in the air.

So, the next trip was a great big group trip at the end of March to St Anton, which was everything you would expect from a trip like that… drunken, debauched, heavy on the fancy dress (see photo of the YMCA!), but a bit light on the skiing from my perspective! However, despite being towards the end of March and looking like a summer resort when we turned up, the snow gods were smiling on us and threw fresh powder snow at us all week.

Living in Lyon has been tough on all the Brits here, as there is a constant noise in your ears… the mountains calling! So my next taste of snow was a quick jaunt over to Chamonix (a mere 2 hour drive – I used to drive more than that just to ski on plastic!). Not bad at all.

Onwards to my next trip and more of the same as St Anton – a stag weekend in Val D’Isere. Considering it was so late on in the season, being the middle of April, the snow was incredibly good, although yet again I didn’t actually make it out onto the slopes as much as I should have – although I did discover that I can pass as a young male snowboarder called James.

You may think that this would be enough skiing for one season, but being in Lyon, those mountains just keep on at you… So, Dad and I thought it would be rude not to nip over to Val D’Isere for the last day of the season (a week longer than last year), so believe it or not, this is me in Val D’Isere, on a sprinkling of fresh powder snow on May 8th!! It was one of the coldest days of skiing I’ve done all year – and some of the best snow. Nobody seems to have told Val D’Isere about global warming…

Velo's in action!

Well with my first visitor comes my first problems with the wondrous Velo's... Dad has arrived in Lyon, so I thought it would be a great idea to show him Lyon by bike. So, laden with a large picnic, we set off to find some bikes, and then the Parc Tete d'Or. Unfortunately, the first bike station had it's touch screen smashed, the second one only had one operational bike, the third one again only had one operational bike which we decided to take, then back to the second station where the one operational bike had then been hired, and then a short treck to find the 4th one where we successfully managed to get another bike. I could tell Dad was impressed...

However, with bikes successfully hired we found a cycle path and pedalled over the Rhone onto the new cycle path by the river. Great fun navigating round people, small children and dogs, roller bladers and the elderly, all whilst trying not to get out of control and end up in the Rhone - of course being France there is a "laissez-faire" attitude to safety, so no one wears a helmet and certainly no one is going to concern themselves with putting barriers between cycle paths and large, fast flowing rivers...

After a very pleasant, pedestrian dodging pedal, we not only found the park, but also found somewhere to park - miraculously there were actually spaces for our bikes.

The park is really beautiful - a bit like Hyde Park with lots of paths, lakes and trees and it also has a Zoo apparently. We weren't sure what the French laws are about drinking in public places, but we managed to find a fairly secluded spot to crack open the Cote de Rhone... and sleep.

Jetset? Je pense pas!

At the moment I am doing loads of travelling about – glamorous? Not in my case. Lugging around a case, walking miles, catching trains, buses and trams in 30 degree heat leaves you feeling somewhat exhausted. Plus, it seems that I am particularly doomed when it comes to French transport.

On the whole, I can’t fault the public transport system as it is super clean, modern and generally on time to the exact minute. The only trouble is, I’m not (on time that is!) so whereas with British transport you can generally turn up at the time the train leaves and have plenty of time to find the platform, get your breath back etc. it’s not the case in France, in fact I would swear that if I am running particularly late, they actually leave early. But I will break down my issues into sections…

1. Footwear…
I have the eternal girlie problem of footwear. I have a 15 to 25 minute walk to the train station each day (and I will explain why it varies in the alternate departure section…) in addition to a 10 minute walk with an assault course in the middle (see building site section) when I get to the other end. So, in England faced with the same problem I would of course don my trainers with my suit/work outfit (albeit small neat dark ones – none of this running shoes thing) but not so in France, having read a book about the differences between English and French women – mostly style – and how you would never catch a French woman in trainers unless she was actually running. So I braved it out by wearing a selection of different heeled shoes and boots, and taking about 10 mins extra to get anywhere but looking stylish (you have to wear a selection because if you wear the same pair of uncomfortable shoes 2 days running the pain is excruciating – better to spread the pain around the foot!).

The style quandary came to a head when, whilst running extremely late, I had to perform a sprint from one end of a very large station to the other, and along the platform (which was of course the furthest possible distance away – much like the mysterious platform 13 at Paddington, which is actually nearer to Ealing than Paddington) in a pair of high heels. Running through my head was… if I had trainers on I would be at least half a platform ahead of where I am now, but on the other hand at least I look glamorous… oh god please don’t let me fall flat on my face – broken nose not so glamorous! Of course the glamour is somewhat depleted when you launch yourself into the train and stand there panting and sweating for 10 minutes.

Eventually my sense (or British lack of style – you choose) prevailed and I found some flat, if slightly scruffy, boots that were comfortable – heaven! Much quicker for the last minute dash too…

Then, the sun came out and overnight it went into the 20’s/30’s – not so much fun to have furry hot water bottles on your feet. The search goes on for a pair of comfortable, flat, not hot, shoes… it has become a joke in the office about how many pairs of shoes I have under my desk, but find me one pair that are comfortable and suitable for work and I will bin the lot. Anyway, rant over… moving on…

2. Alternate departure…
Despite the trains being on time, clean and fairly regular, the catch is that although they leave for St. Etienne every half hour, they leave from different stations in Lyon which means if you miss one, you either have to wait for an hour, or have to dash across to the other station – doable but risky.

One is a 17 minute walk away and the other a 25 minute walk, but the 25 minute one has the option of a tram half way along… what to do?

The same is true in reverse so depending on what time you want to leave work varies the length of the walk the other side… decisions, decisions… throw in the quandary of which shop windows are best to browse on the way home and it’s a day long dilemma…

3. Platform change
Generally, the information in the station is extremely good, with large information boards displaying the trains and platform numbers. What they don’t have is the small print underneath to warn passengers that any information given is subject to change.

One morning, I arrived at the station to see the train indicated as leaving from the usual platform. I went to said platform. And waited, and waited and waited, whilst closely eyeing the information screen for any updates. First of all the platform disappeared entirely from the screen (they do this – about a minute before the train is due to depart, the platform letter vanishes – I reckon this is so last minute sprinters have less chance of holding up the train by arriving at the last minute and trying to board as the doors shut – a great idea, but very annoying if you are one of those sprinters!), and then the train listing vanished too. I went up to the nearest Station worker and asked if the train had been cancelled – oh, no, it’s departed… departed? I was there, it wasn’t, how the hell could it have gone? Announcement of changed platform. Oh great… trying to understand station announcements in a different language. I have admitted defeat with this one… if there’s a change of platform, I ain’t gonna be on that train.

Which brings me onto my next point….

4. Autocars
… so, there I was, making a mad dash for the station for a late train back from dinner in St. Etienne having jumped into a taxi, which not only stopped at 50 red lights during the one mile journey, but then drove slowly – SLOWLY!! I’m in France for crying out loud – no one drives slowly!! Anyway, I leapt out at the station, scanned the board, but thought that I must be in that annoying last minute where the platform has disappeared from the board, so basically I arrived in the nick of time, but didn’t know which platform to run to and had missed the train. Suspiciously I didn’t see any train departing, but didn’t think too much about it and settled in for the half hour wait for the next one.

So, 25 mins later, waiting for the platform to appear on the board, I grew more anxious as it approached the time of departure and still a no show… ears pricked for Voie x announcements or as per my new tactic, a sharp eye on anyone who looked like they might be going to Lyon so I can follow them if there is a sudden announcement that I miss.

The information I had gleaned from the board in the station was that this type of train was an Autocar – fair enough I thought; there’s the TGV which is very flash and quick, the usual ones which are double decker pretty slick trains (which I presumed to be Autocars) and the old banger type trains which occasionally are put on and are much more like BR trains.

So, the departure time approaches, still no platform, still no announcement and blip – it’s gone from the board. What the?!? How could I possibly have missed it – I had all angles covered?! Except the angle of course, that an Autocar is actually a bus, and has just left from outside in the car park. Imagine my delight. Cue, another half hour wait for a bus that would take longer than the train.


5. Building site…

Once you have successfully arrived on time at the station, boarded the right train, woken up at the right station and got off the train, there is then the obstacle course to negotiate.

Our most direct line from the station to the office (and that of many other office workers) used to involve a fairly short walk up a tarmac path, give or take 4 tram lines to be aware of. Then, the builders arrived.

With plenty of advanced preparation for the building next door, they dug up the entire path, and left in it’s place, dust, gravel and potholes. This makes the whole of problem highlighted in point 1 much worse (need all terrain shoes for this piece of the journey…). It makes it extremely hard to wheel a wheelie case along as many of us do, and means I alternately turn up to work with feet and ankles covered in dust, or on the few occasions when it has rained, covered in mud.

However, that is merely an annoyance, rather than a hazard. Whilst the builders happily go about their business in hard hats (and no doubt comfortable, all terrain, steel toe-capped boots – now there’s an idea!), the mere members of the public have to avoid the hazards of the building site, including dumper trucks, diggers, overhead crane work etc. I actually had to duck under the mechanical arm of a JCB yesterday… all to the evident amusement of the on looking builders. Health and safety? Mon derriere…

Which brings me onto my next point…

6. Criminal investigation

Being a huge fan of decent public transport, I regularly hop on the clean, efficient and cheap tram into the centre of St. Etienne to get lunch, which is maybe a mile away, and is therefore legitimate to use the tram rather than walk during your lunch hour.

However, in the other direction, the tram does a loop and just one stop away, delivers you to the front of the station, thereby avoiding the treacherous building site route. Some people may call it lazy, I would call it efficient, health preserving, and better for my feet. If you have to wait for a tram, then you are better to walk, but if there is one in sight or at the stop then it is definitely quicker.

So, running slightly behind schedule for the train, I saw a tram approaching and began running to catch the tram. Alas, one cannot buy a ticket on the tram, but have to get one from the machine before boarding. I always buy a ticket when I am going into St. Etienne but as I didn’t have time I reasoned that it’s only one stop, I guess it doesn’t matter. How wrong could I be, for waiting to greet the tram at the station, were 10 police officers and a similar number of transport officials, who of course checked everyone for tickets as they got off the train. 40 euro’s for a 15 second journey is a bit steep, but I reasoned with myself, I guess it could have been worse. It nearly was, as they were very upset that I wasn’t carrying my passport with me, and were evidently not impressed with my English driving licence as ID. They let me go eventually though, and I did actually catch the train I was aiming for.

Viva la velo

Now one thing that Lyon does better than anywhere I’ve been (along with the food, the chocolate, the wine, the rivers, the architecture and the street cleaning – cue scene from Life of Brian – yeah, but apart from that, what have the Romans ever done for us?!) is the bike system.

Dotted around Lyon at 200 suitable convenient locations, there are 3000 bikes which you can hire. You swipe your credit card as a deposit (150 Euro’s) and then you can hire a bike at a ridiculously low charge, and in fact the first half hour is free so I’ve never had to pay anything. So I can get a bike from close to my apartment, ride it all the way to the station and deposit it back into the systems bike rack there.

So far, this has worked like a dream, with me being able to find bike lanes easily enough, riding on pavements if not (seems to be perfectly acceptable here) and feeling jolly French whilst cruising along with my stylish bike with shopping basket.

However, lurking at the back of my mind is the transport demon who will sooner or later spoil this form of transport for me too. I am sure this will involve either not being able to remove a bike from the lock having pressed that numbered bike into the key pad, or not being able to return a bike into the lock – either way, somehow ending up with the 150 Euro fine. That of course or falling of a bike. For now though, it is a blissful and blister free form of transport, and the sooner every other city in the world can get this system, the better.

Here endeth the rant...