Buy Oliver a Cup of Coffee


 Leaving Lyon is not easy.  I stayed longer than I planned and leave reluctantly.

Trekking along, admiring cool street lamps (shiny holograph interiors) above a promenade, I wish I could stay longer and see these lit at night.

I like the carelessness of allowing flowers to grow in the pavement cracks

And hang over city walls

It is a reflection of the French, perhaps more carefree than careless actually... the feather mattresses thrown over the window ledge to air... The young girls wear crumpled floral shifts and slide down the railings. 

Wandering from one alley to the next, I discovered unexpected treasures. 

Like the Rhone from the top of a staircase

These frescoes with realistic dimension

This Gothic cathedral ensconced between two buildings

This plaza rounding a corner on the way home late at night

Complete with a fountain of life-like Knight Riders

And this on an obscure street!

A beautiful reflection that one small park can support two floral shops:

Who wouldn't want to stop at every one of the nine million bakeries?

Or create culinary masterpieces with subtle favors, utilizing only slightly different mustards...

And cook with imaginative sauces?

I want to live where everyone has a smoky look in their eyes and kisses

Where one can walk for hours along the pristine river walk.

And watch the water change from mirror shards in the sunshine to deep green under dark clouds and back again in a matter of minutes.

Farewell, Lyon.  I wish I were yours.