During the first two weeks of our Grand Tour, the sunshine has been endless. It has bleached my hair almost white-blonde, which pleases me because, the blonder my hair, the less obvious my gray roots will be as they grow out. This report, however, is not about that kind of roots. It is about my family roots, in Annonay, France, where my grandfather was born in 1849. Yes, my grandfather, and yes, 1849! My grandfather and later my father both married later than most men, so we three generations have already covered 164 years.
|False Windows in Lyon|
We took the train from Paris to Lyon, such a comfortable experience. Except for the long walk to the railcar, dragging suitcases, the trip is so pleasant. Plenty of room for luggage at the end of the car and for legs when sitting. Comfortable seats. Refreshments served.
Lyon itself is an interesting city, but seems less impressive after Paris. It is, however, considered the culinary center of France. Since all French food is wonderful, this is an extraordinary boast. We did appreciate the exquisite combinations of food, the flavors that threaten to make a person drool in public, the creamy patès, the pastries that are works of art. The richness of the food, however, made us long for simpler fare.
While in Lyon we took a car and drove through the Rhône valley to the
|Balloon Mania in Annonay|
|Bend in the Rhône River|