Katy Murtaugh’s Next Big Adventure!

Ahh, well my time in Lyon has drawn to a close, which signifies also the very near end of my trip.My time in Lyon was an interesting period filled with lots of juxtapositions. It is the place where I was the most settled, with an apartment, a roommate, classes and yet I can’t say that I ever felt completely at home. (Incidentally, I spent about the same amount of time studying in Norway while in college and had a very similar experience; for me, 4 months just ain’t nothin’ if I want to something resembling a life.) At times in Lyon I felt possibly the most lonely than any other time on my trip, and at others I felt like I had (and did have) throngs of family and friends surrounding me. Lyon is oft described as the gastronomic capital of France and while I was able to partake of the Lyonnais delicacies on particular occasions, more often than not I was living on pasta and peas; which is also to say (though not a juxtaposition at all) that my time in France, one of the most expensive spots and one of the last spots on my itinerary, was definitely my poorest time (imagine the blow when I realized my meager 14 Euro a day budget was pushing the envelope). On my way to school every day I walked through the St. Antoine market on the banks of the Saone surrounded by incredible smells of flowers, cheese and olives, admiring all types of gorgeous fruits, vegetables, mushrooms, nuts, pastries, meats, fish, shellfish, smiling at the vendors I saw everyday, maybe accepting a free Clementine here or there, and I then spent much of the rest of the walk avoiding dog shit and wincing at whiffs of urine. Lyonnais people are often described as being cold, un-welcoming and reserved and while I encountered plenty of people who fit that bill, I also met a few wonderfully open, warm and welcoming French people, who opened their doors to me, fed me, showed me things they loved about their city and their food.

My apartment in Lyon was often the butt of jokes, and after being introduced to someone who had already met my roommate, it was inevitable to next hear: “oh, YOU’re the one without the toilet!” Well, the apartment was in a very old building (I have no idea how old I just realized, how terrible is that) and for the most part filled with lovely, large, renovated apartments, but in our little aerie on the top floor (think 8th floor and no elevator), time had pretty much stood still for the last, I don’t know, 30 years and our toilet was still a “Turkish” deal (a hole with places for your feet) out in the hallway to which you had to bring a bucket of water from the apartment. Truth be told, if I hadn’t just spent the previous year traveling to places where a toilet like that might be luxury, I’m not sure I would’ve known what to do, but as it was, it was no big deal; a little chilly maybe towards the end there, but no big deal. The apartment itself had one little main room with the kitchen and an eating table and not much else, then there was one bedroom off that room and a small, red ladder/staircase brought you up to my room, the ceiling of which was formed by the eaves of the roof, making the room to short to stand up in, but also making it seem ever so cozy and charming to the likes of me. The main window in the apartment had a wonderful view of the rooftops of our neighborhood (the oldest part of town, now protected by the UN from any modernization), over to one of the cathedrals and on again further to another church steeple (we could hear 3 sets of church bells from the apartment). It was the perfect place for sitting in the sun for hours, catching a tiny glimpse of life here or there, but otherwise just soaking in how very French it all seemed.

After a month or so I’d say I definitely got into the French swing of things food-wise, at least as far as lunch was concerned (I don’t think any French person would lower themselves to eating pasta and peas for dinner as much as I did). But, because the budget was tight and because my French class was over everyday at noon, my general routine was to buy a round of Camembert and two tomatoes on Monday and then everyday after school I would buy half a baguette, get home crisp it up in the oven, make my Camembert sandwiches and maybe spread the last of the bread with a little jam for dessert. In colder months, this got replaced by vegetable soup, but still with my warm, crispy half-baguette. I suppose my dinners got impeccably French when my mother arrived — which is to say, we always managed to pull off a salad, open a bottle of wine, relax, have something interesting that we’d picked out that day and top it all off with a fresh treat from the patisserie.

Which brings me to the definite highlight of my time in Lyon: friends and family. A long time ago I had begun to wonder if it would be possible to pull of a Thanksgiving in France with my friends and family from home. It turns out, thanks to my mother more than anyone else, that it was possible and it was even better than I could have imagined. For almost the whole month of November I went from being a solitary wanderer and explorer to being surrounded by familiarity and friendship. First, my wonderful rowing buddies Claire and Katy showed up and we had a wonderful few days catching up, eating, shopping and ogling ridiculously expensive shoes! Then the day after they left my mother arrived for almost 3 weeks, shortly thereafter her friend and daughter joined us, and then my grandmother and her boyfriend and then my brother and then another friend of my mother’s and a friend of mine. It was all made possible by the fruits of a desperate search for a place to stay; in the end, my mother managed to locate a wonderful house, owned by one of the most lovely couples ever, not too far out of town, where everyone could stay and it worked out perfectly. The house was comfortable and charming and was the perfect setting catching up with my family, which would have otherwise happened amid rush of Christmas.

Thanksgiving itself raised the bar of our expectations forever more and it I don’t think that we’ll be going to back to the old style of Thanksgiving any time soon (our Madison family around the table at my mother’s house). We had 12-15 people, depending on how and when you counted, a mix of Americans, Canadians, French, Swedish and Scottish and an all-American Thanksgiving spread (per my strict orders, missing one Thanksgiving was enough for me). Wine and conversation flowed quickly and easily; most everyone didn’t know most everyone else and it worked beautifully. It was a new kind of Thanksgiving for my family, and I, for one, vote to keep it that way!! (Granted, once State-side it could be a little hard to replicate an atmosphere flooded with different cultural perspectives and the relaxation that comes with being far away from the responsibilities of home.) Anyway, it was a good time, and definitely my best evening in Lyon!

After things had wound down from Thanksgiving, most everyone headed back in their respective directions and my brother and I spent a few days in Paris with the express intent of adding Disneyland Paris to our illustrious list of Disneyland experiences! That done (on a chilly, chilly day when a couple big attractions were closed, but one on which we had “snow”!), we bummed around Paris a bit, walked a lot, had a few good meals and then headed off on our own ways once again. I had one more week to prepare for my Lyon departure and filled it with lots of errands and cleaning and packing, but more importantly with some really good eating and some wonderful evenings thanks to a couple of generous invitations! And then, that was it! Au revoir Lyon! Until next time….

So, now that the Lyon chapter is behind me, I find myself with about 2 more weeks before I am back in Madison, Wisconsin — a weird, but comforting thought. I am ready and excited to start a new, semi-normal, non-nomadic life!!! A little jaunt to England, a couple of nights in New York and that’s officially it! The pack will be un-packed one last time!! I think it’ll be good to be home…

December 14, 2004 in Europe