“Boston, mes chaussettes!”

There are over a billion of them worldwide. They outnumber cars two-to-one, and maintaining one annually costs 20 times less than driving and maintaining a car. There are dandy horses, velocipedes, tandems (the longest being over 20m long and seating 35 people), beer bikes (thank you, Germany) and penny-farthings. Queen sings a song about them. They are the most efficient vehicle ever devised. Only the duck is more efficient in calories expended per kilo and per kilometer.* It is my source of transportation.

It is a bicycle—a vélo, Fahrrad, bicicleta, велосипед.

While the (minimal) costs of studying Germany include a ticket for unlimited regional transportation within a certain area, French students either have to pay for public transportation, walk, or use their vélo. Lyon and other cities, however, offer a system called vélov, where you can pick up a bike at a certain station and ride it for thirty minutes or less to another station somewhere in the city while only paying 15 euro for the entire year.

Let’s face it: that’s gotta be way less than 1/20 of the cost of driving and maintaining a car. Unless, of course, you never have car trouble and spend only 300 euro (about $400) annually on gas (and if you are, please tell us all how you’re doing it).

The vélov has become my dearest friend, with the exception of dud-bicycles that have flat tires or bad brakes. They come with a light, a basket, and, of course, a bell that provides an insufficient level of aggression when you want someone to move out of your way.

Another huge advantage of the vélov is that it allows one to feel (almost) entirely justified in eating at a boulangerie or a patisserie any chance he or she gets to fuel up on baguettes, croissants and pastries. And that, my friends, is the tastiest fuel, even if you do somehow manage to spend only 300 euro a year for your car’s gasoline habit.

Before coming to Lyon, I remember reading somewhere that it is a city you should never visit if you don’t want to gain any weight. I’m hoping my daily runs in one of the largest inner-city parks of Europe and my renowned vélov plan will stave off any validity these rumors have. I actually really hope so, because the food is so good it is impossible to stay away.

My first “cuisine” experience was just on impulse when I was walking by a boulangerie that had some delicious flakey-pocket pastries filled with apples (feuilleté aux pommes). More fun, however, have been the nights that Francois, my roommate’s friend from Réunion, an island off of the coast of Madagascar that still belongs to France, made us traditional réunionnaise dinner. One dish looked like a sort of beef-stew, but instead of beef there was octopus. I had tried octopus before in Greece, which had a bit of a pickle-y taste, but this was tastier by far. There was also a sort of spicy couscous flavored with lime. We finished off the evening by sharing what Isabelle, my Quebecois roommate, brought from the patisserie: a tartelette framboise (a one-person raspberry pie), a tartelette aux pommes (same, but with apples), an over-sized chocolate macaroon and a tartelette au chocolat (you get the idea) that had a hard chocolate top, followed by whipped cream and a fluffy pie crust. Although I was too greedy to take pictures that night, I am hoping the ones I have found online will do justice to what I actually ate.

One excellent dining experience was this past Tuesday, when fellow Midd-Kid Laura Pollard scooted up to Lyon from Bourgogne to see me. We walked around, looking at all the plats du jour offered on all of the chalkboards, and eventually decided on one that had shrimp quiche as a starting dish. It was delicious, and I was in heaven. Not only does the food taste good, it also looks very pretty, especially the desserts. For my main dish, I ordered porc au pesto rosso, which was delicious and the most tender pork I’ve ever eaten (ever). I must say that the fact that I’ve had a cold this past week has definitely not hindered my appetite. But then again, maybe it’s the vélov. Or the fact that I live on the fifth floor with no elevator. Here’s to carbs and French wine!

 tartelette au chocolat

 Shrimp quiche... so delicious!

 Miss Laura :) and a huge basket of bread that lived once upon a time until two hungry American girls came along...

 porc au pesto rosso

 This picture doesn't quite do it justice, but a delicious brioche à la praline

 An attempt to stealthily take a picture of a bakery... 

 One meal cooked by Francois-- kielbasa in a very savory sauce with hot peppers, beans and rice on the side!

In our kitchen eating dinner! From left to right: Lucy, Asni (roommate), Francois (who hates having his picture taken), Isabelle (roommate) and Olivier

 tartelette aux framboises

 tartelette aux pommes

 feuilleté aux pommes

Chocolate macaroons! I know, the look alarmingly like hamburgers, but they don't taste that way!

Peace, love, blue cheese and Rocquefort,

Amanda

* http://comingthru.com/2010/07/15-fun-facts-about-bicycles/

Déjà vu, chant-mé!

Since I’ve started living in Europe, it has never ceased to amaze people that an American can live abroad and speak fluently in a foreign language without having been raised by French or German parents, or even without having had an au pair. It’s always a topic of conversation when I first meet people, who then decide that I’m the exception rather than the rule, since I’m thin and know where Iraq is on a map (so much for killing off stereotypes). Yet what most people don’t realize and are surprised to learn is that we Americans use many expressions derived from the French and German languages (and other languages, of course) to express everyday occurrences. Sure, we don’t have an English equivalent of “bon appétit” and we could awkwardly say “health!” when someone sneezes instead of “Gesundheit,” but somehow the foreign expression livens up our language and sometimes gives us a better way of expressing what we truly mean. 

Take the phenomenon of the déjà vu. Most of us have had the strange sensation that we’ve already experienced a particular moment in time, even if it’s just something as banal as a fork falling off the table. Saying “déjà vu” in this case instead of “already seen” makes much more sense, and sounds much less awkward, even if you haven’t been raised by the French or had a nanny from Paris.

The past week in Lyon and the time leading up to my semester abroad has been quite the déjà vu for me when I think about my first year abroad in Mainz in 2008. Four years ago, there was an intense presidential election (as there is now), which Europeans love to talk about, especially when they know you’re an American studying political science. I came to Germany feeling tongue-tied and unsure of myself (especially after the airline lost my luggage), much like my arrival in Lyon when I had to talk to my roommate on the phone and have him repeat himself multiple times until I understood that he had hidden the key in the bushes and unexpectedly wouldn’t be home for another two hours (reading lips is so underrated). I remember being fascinated by a new city, but at the same time scared I would always be lost and never know my way around without a map twice my size unfolded before me. I got lost on runs and miraculously made it back home, thereby getting to know the area better and expelling fears that the city was a gargantuan mass of cobblestones and steeples filled with cafés, small dogs and people who always wore scarves, regardless of how hot it was (did I mention I had given up fighting stereotypes?). Oh, and I can’t forget to mention the fact that during my first week in Mainz as well as my first week in Lyon, I have been approached by a camera news team to answer a question, only to promptly inform them that I’m not from around here and repeat the conversation of how it’s possible that an American can speak French (or, in the case four years ago, German). One very, very big déjà vu.  

As ridiculous as my fears may sound, I was also comforted by the fact that it all is a déjà-vu. Germany doesn’t seem so foreign to me anymore, but more like a comfortable place that I miss while in this new country with a different language. After having spoken to my roommates in French all night Sunday and all day Monday (one is French, the other from Quebec), I was actually relieved to speak German with a fellow Frankfurt student Monday night. Don’t get me wrong: my two months at home this summer have me missing slang words and expressions in English, which can never truly be understood on this side of the pond (don’t let those Brits fool you). But German was so comfortable to me. This is all quite laughable when I think back on how much I stuttered to produce German words four years ago.

Another part of my déjà vu has been seeing two familiar faces from Mainz, Adélie and Dina. Adélie, from Lyon, did a year abroad in Mainz when I was in Germany for the first time. Dina, from Israel, arrived in Mainz shortly before I left for America in 2009. We enjoyed a few “cervoises” together, which is honey and mint flavored beer (delicious!), and Dina and I learned a handful of French slang words, such as “chelou” (weird), “relou” (annoying, stupid), “vénère” (annoying), “chant-mé” (awesome [actually a mix-up of méchant, which means mean]), “meufs” (chics, or the letters of “femmes” [ladies] mixed around and thrown into a new word)… let’s just say Adélie had her fun and has taken it upon herself to make sure we know how to communicate with people our age. We were quizzed at the end of the night.

The past week has been slow going, but below are some pictures of my explorations during the past couple of days. I apologize for the skimpy captions, I haven't learned much about the city quite yet!

In the center of the city: Place Bellecour 

 A church in the Old City (Vieux Lyon) in Lyon 

Fourvière basilica from Vieux Lyon

 A lot of cafes and restaurants in Vieux Lyon, I can't wait to try! Lyon is known for having the best food in France... even more so than Paris! (I am willing to make the comparison.)

 Vieux Lyon

La Fontaine Bartholdi

 Fourvière from across the Rhône

 In the Parc de la Tête d'Or, very reminiscent of the Amsterdam sign! (see earlier posts)

 In the Parc de la Tête d'Or, where I am able to run not far from my apartment!

 The stores always seem cuter in France... just a used book store!

 Me, Dina, and Adélie out in Vieux Lyon

 Cathédrale Saint-Jean-Baptiste de Lyon

 Vieux Lyon

 The beginning of the hike up to see Fourvière! 

 Gardens along the way to Fourvière

 Fourvière from below--it was hard to capture how small I really felt!

 Lyon from Fourvière

 Back of Fourvière

 Fourvière from Vieux Lyon

 Place Bellecour

There are still many Roman ruins to explore, which I haven't gotten to do yet! Lyon was founded as a Roman colony in 43 BC, but I have yet to go explore that part of its history. Or any of its history, for that matter!

Here's to hoping classes aren't too overwhelming on Monday... is summer really over?!

Peace, love, and this ain't Germany, we jaywalk here,

Amanda