Beaujolais & Perouges

If you're ever in Lyon, you must make it out to wine country. It's an easy thirty minute drive out of the city. We booked a small tour in advance so we could avoid the hassle of renting and driving a car in a foreign country. If Lyon has one thing over all of the other cities we visited, it is the wine. We did a wine tasting at Dominique Guillard's winery and it was amazing. Everything was delicious. I especially liked the gamay rosé and some of the lighter reds that were perfect for drinking on hotter summer days. Each bottle was only 5 EUROS. I wanted to walk away with an entire crate full, but you can only drink so much wine between two people. We ended up choosing to drink in moderation and purchased two bottles.

I learned that the Beaujolais wine isn't aged in oak here. They actually use vines that can go up to 100 years old. It was really interesting to see the flower covered fields that were left out to lay fallow until it was time to replant again. I also learned that the quality of the wine is largely determined by the soil--soil that is best suited when the terrain is very hilly--hence all of the dramatic views as seen below.

The views were incredible. We drove throughout the Beaujolais region and made pitstops in Perouges and Oingt--old towns that contained buildings all made from yellow stones from the quarries in the region. It was cherry season at the time as well. We passed by trees swollen with cherries ready for picking. I wanted to just stick my arm out the window and grab a fist full as we passed by on those rolling hills.

There were a lot of castles in the area as well; many which are still occupied and remain private residences. Doesn't that sound nice? There are of course newer buildings as well, but they must all be painted yellow to follow the regional yellow stone tradition. I thought the funniest bit on the tour was when we learned that in the past, vinters were forced to pay taxes to the churches in the form of wine grapes. Of course, they would only hand over the crap grapes which angered authorities. So they demanded wine next, which produced the same result: crap wine. Eventually, the churches were allowed to determine which time of year and exactly when they could go and choose the grapes themselves. Those tricky vinters, I like them. All in all, I had a blast that day sightseeing and sipping wine with Andrew.

Next stop, Lyon.

Arriving to Lyon was a bit disheartening at first. The side of town we were staying in vaguely recalled Los Angeles with its modern structures and congested roads. But I grew to love Lyon in a way. It was the part of our trip where I started to feel as if I were living in France rather than just passing through on stolen time. Shopping at the open air market for supplies for dinner, browsing aimlessly at Monoprix to escape the heat briefly, and watching dubbed American shows like Friends in the early evening hours. This is what I imagined an alternative life to be like if I were Lyonnais.

We flew into Lyon from Barcelona and took the train to our AIRBNB on Rue Vauban. This was the first time we had ever rented out an entire unit through AIRBNB. The apartment was really quaint and quiet compared to the place we stayed at in Barri Gotic in Barcelona.  A quiet student welcomed us into the apartment with a neat set of directions and a basket of pre-packaged croissants.I let out a sigh of relief when we arrived because it was exactly what we needed at that point. A place to recharge and take it a bit slow, especially since Andrew came down with something of a summer cold. 

With the sweltering heat, we moved a bit more slowly throughout our stay. Days were spent walking rather listlessly across the bridge to the main part of town. This is what I imagined summer to be like for residents--enjoying the sights around as much as possible while bearing with the heat. It would be 90 degrees even after sunset...easily 100 or over at noon.

I liked how carefree everyone seemed around the river. Students would be lounging on the grass amongst friends, half emptied bottles of wine with baguettes and saucisson aplenty. After our dinner at a bouchon (one of many to come), we walked along the Rhone and returned home. The sun doesn't set in the summer easily until past 10 PM. There was an eccentric older man doing his evening exercise. Every time he ran through, the crowd would hilariously (and I hope not mockingly, because that kind of breaks my heart) cheer along like fans at a soccer match. 

In Lyon, we started establishing some rituals. Walking through those quiet streets back to Rue Vauban. Stopping by the little market to buy some fruit or ice cold cans of Coca Cola. Browsing Les Halles de Lyon for groceries. Padding around the apartment barefoot. Watching random segments on the television (like this strangely engrossing French fry documentary) and hastily attempting to translate so Andrew could follow along. I think that's what ultimately made me appreciate Lyon more. Dublin too. It made me nostalgic for the time when we weren't in a long distance relationship. Not to say that Lyon was god awful and that you should never visit. But it just didn't resonate with me as a vacation spot as much as Barcelona and Paris--I guess, for the very reasons I listed above for appreciating it for what it was. In any case, more updates to come.