Oh la la, ces histoires des filles...

View of Lyon


The flower tree

Usually, when I walk through a foreign city, I can't understand passing dialogues, the blips of conversation one catches while walking past several people down the street. In France, I don't always know the context, but I can finally eavesdrop a little.

Two teenage girls skitter by,

"....tu dis rien..."

A middle age couple talking with their hands,

"oui, c'est ça..."

Then, my favorite: two women my age, looking a little fed up,

"oh la la ces histoires des filles!" (something which I loosely took as girls being drama queens)

But then again, I could be completely off and lost in translation. Is that so bad though?

It was nice to walk around in the city and in the park where the trees were bright with fall and snowing leaves. And for half of my walk, I went iPod-less, and therefore able to catch the blips. Maybe I should do that more often. Maybe that's the way to catch the street slang, on the street.

After a weekend where "nous n'avons fait rien" (aka watched movies, ate tons of soup and truffles) AJ, Leslie, and Jamie left after a relaxing few days in Chasse. I decided to make a quick trip to Lyon in order to see about getting myself enrolled in French language classes.

My train timetable said there'd be a train at 11.14, so I hustled up the hill and back down to the train station only to read that there was no train going to Lyon, but a bus leaving fifteen minutes later. Ok, fine. I'm getting used to this.

Only, the bus took nearly an hour, whereas the train takes 20 minutes. The bus went through the back streets of Lyon's lovely outskirt towns like a giant lurching through a tiny maze. The bus ride actually felt awkward. The streets were too narrow, the other cars were micro machines and the huge bus still huffed on.

I couldn't get off the bus faster in Lyon. From there, I learned how to take the tram, use my new bank card, and found the language school I was looking for without a hitch. And to top it all off, it was a gorgeous autumn afternoon, with big pizza pie size leaves drifting down from the sky like November confetti.

Walking into the school, I felt like I was going to work. It reminded me of working in Spain last year. The same little classrooms with desks, teacher area scattered with paper, the reception area bustling, young teachers walking around with Cokes and coffees. Only, the French versions of me glanced over and walked away.

I was playing the role of student this time.

My visit was slightly pointless, but I'm still glad I went. The woman told me that I'd need to take an online test to gage my level and then she'd contact me by email. But, the good news was that I could start as soon as possible if things worked out.

And on the way back, I got a nice 20 minute train ride.

Some more pictures of Lyon:

Ham, mushroom, and cheese crêpe for lunch

The little red bridge