Lights in the dark

La Fête des Lumières, edition 2012 turned out to be one of the better vintages of recent years. Impressive displays in at la Cathédrale St Jean, la Place des Terreaux, la colline de Fourvière and le Théâtre des Celestins were the highlights. The only drawback of it all was that the festival seemed more popular than ever, with streets more crowded than ever. For example, an average of almost 200000 people watched "les Chrysalides de St Jean" each night, which is a lot of bodies to pass through the small square in front of the cathedral. La bienheureuse et la belle-mère were forced to queue for almost an hour to see that particular display. La petite famille's viewing was rather more restricted than usual, due to the demands and sleep needs of a small toddler, exhaustion, illness, and cold, damp weather.

Winter malady first reared its ugly head at the end of last month when la bienheureuse was struck down by a particularly nasty virus. Three weeks later she still hasn't shaken it, which isn't helpful given her condition, and now I've picked it up too. Worst cold in history. The streaming nose was relatively short-lived, but the more viscous snot is still clogging sore sinuses, leading to disturbed nights' sleep and the whole-body aches for a couple of days. La petite has also suffered her worst cold yet, but she at least seems more robust than her parents and it only lasted two weeks. The snotty period was followed by a chesty cough, loss of appetite, mild fever and a completely uncharacteristic listlessness that lasted several days. It was rather distressing to watch a little girl who normally never stops charging about just lying quietly on the floor feeling sorry for herself, and meekly going to bed with barely a whimper.

Still, things are looking up. Two weeks of rest and relaxation in damp Blighty over the Christmas break coming up. Though to get there we've got a 1200km drive with two sick parents and a child who hates car seats to get through first…

Frozen out

The first snow of the winter fell in Lyon on the first day of the first winter month. A mere centimetre or so, but a sign that winter has arrived. That other harbinger of winter in Lyon, la Fête des Lumières takes place this weekend, an event that has lured la belle-mère across the channel for her habitual visit. Light energy and a small bundle of human energy - enough to keep her entertained almost full time. Any spare time is taken up with acting as temporary kitchen maid and seamstress.

Meanwhile, the predicted traffic armageddon in Lyon due to the closure of the Croix Rousse tunnel never happened, but almost arrived yesterday. The Franco-Italian summit was held in Lyon, leading to an all-day exclusion zone round the Prefecture du Rhône, cancellation of any buses going anywhere nearby, large traffic jams and much complaining by commuters. All with the aim of keeping protests about the proposed Lyon-Turin high-speed rail link at bay. In the end there were fewer than 1000 protestors, and most of the those arrived late in the day having been deliberately held up by police checks on the buses bringing them from Italy. Democracy and freedom of speech, who needs it…

President Hollande might have been spared the anti rail-link demonstrations, but he is still under fire from almost everywhere else. Rising unemployment, French credit-rating downgraded, low growth, etc, etc. Still, the main opposition have managed to bring him temporary respite by going into self-destruct mode. The recent UMP leadership election led to the victory of Jean-François Copé over François Fillon by a mere 98 votes in several hundred thousand. Despite a later recount somehow increasing the lead to nearly a thousand, the UMP seems almost irreconcilably split in two, Copé's hard right faction against the Fillon moderates. Seems likely to be a while before the right organises itself into an effective opposition to the government. Don't be surprised to see Sarko making a comeback in a couple of years, in time for the next presidential elections…

Light visits

The 2011 version of la Fête des Lumières came and went with the usual crowded streets and a couple of visitors making it a crowd chez nous. A bit of a mixed bag this year - some good, some a little underwhelming. Perhaps the moderate impression comes from the fact that we didn't get out to see a great deal of the displays, partly due to the logistical difficulties that come  attached to evening sorties with a 9 month old baby, partly because I rather thoughtlessly booked a flying trip to London last weekend. Which only caused me to miss one night, spent with only a cat for company as my usual hotel owners were all out partying. Nonetheless it was worth the trip because the 1-0 victory over the Toffees coincided with the 125th anniversary of the best football club in the world.

Earlier in the week, visitor number two, la soeur, arrived to see the lights and her niece, not necessarily in that order of priority, on the night of the 8th. Her chauffeur was late arriving at the airport because he lingered to watch the opening night fireworks and trusted the Lyon airport website when it said the flight was twenty minutes late instead of early. Never mind, she got here in the end and the next night her brother treated her to a marathon grand tour of the main light sites in the town centre while the three generations of the other side of the family restricted themselves to a shorter look.

While I was away feeding a habit, the four ladies enjoyed a weekend of not doing any Christmas shopping or any lights viewing. A visit to the Marché de Noël was abandoned due to the crowds. Still, the visitors found their main entertainment without leaving home. On Sunday the traveller returned and did his duty by staying at home to look after baby while the three older ladies visited the park to view la Mythe de la Tête d'Or, one of the highlights of the Lumières.

By Tuesday the visitors had returned from whence they'd come, la bienheureuse was back at work and reluctantly out for dinner in the evening, which meant la petite had only papa for company. A return to her own bedroom met with mixed results. Decent daytime naps were somewhat counterbalanced by a half hour complaining session before she finally went to sleep in the evening. Similar story the next night, with la travailleuse out being quiz master at another work do, followed by a day when she wasn't keen on going to sleep at all. At lunch the situation was complicated by the fact that I was waiting for Monsieur le chauffagiste to turn up to service the boiler. By the time he phoned ninety minutes late to say he was on his way la petite coquinette had won the nap battle, and later in the evening it took an hour for her mother to finally get her to sleep. Two days later things seem to have returned to normal. Famous last words...

Fire and ice

The long cold winter continues, but the Fêtes des Lumières is over for another year. Slightly muted event this year but still some impressive displays - the projections on a water spray in Place de la Rèpublique and the beautifully lit Bartholdi fountain in Place des Terreaux among the highlights. The fiery display in Parc de la Tête d'Or was also good, but it was the one place where the policy of avoiding crowd bottlenecks failed. We turned up at the same time as several thousand other people early on Saturday evening, and joined the crush trying to get in through one small gate. Getting out was even worse, despite the main gate being open by then. The complete lack of crowd control meant there was a logjam between the entrance and exit flows. Fortunately we extricated ourselves and extra bump without too much alarm…

Click here for more Lumières

After a morning visit to a new 'British èpicerie' (pretty well, and relatively inexpensively stocked with normally unobtainable staple items such as Marmite & philadelphia cheese), la bienheureuse spent last Sunday baking cakes - flapjack, lemon tart, figgy cake. Alas, not all for me, but for work colleagues to eat in celebration of her birthday (joyeux anniversaries, ma bien-aimée). Strange custom, but  she left enough at home to keep me happy for a week. When not eating, I've spent most of the last few days on traditional pursuits for the time of year - sorting out the heating, and improving our TV viewing experience. Finally decided to upgrade our cable TV subscription to take advantage of HD and a hard disk recorder. All installed fine, lovely picture, but impossible to record anything. Thus I was back in the shop yesterday attempting to exchange the decoder when I received a phone call from Monsieur le Chauffagiste, who had arrived chez moi 45 minutes early.

Not at all what one expects from a plumber, but in other respects he lived up to the stereotype perfectly. He was there to fix a pressure leak in the boiler, but I'd earlier asked him for a quote to put in a heating thermostat/programmer: 450 Euros. Beaucoup trop cher, I thought, and promptly found a suitable device on ebay, brand new for 60 euros. Phoned him again for another quote: 300 euros. Still too expensive by my book, so I figured out how to attach the thing to the boiler myself and told him as much when he was here yesterday. "You can't do that," he says. "Yes I can," I says I, "unless you want to do it for 100 euros."
He wouldn't bite but negotiations eventually concluded with a deal for 150 euros. Cash of course. Still seems steep to me, but it means I don't have to do the scrabbling around, drilling holes, running wires up and down and through walls, etc, etc…

The rest of the week has been unremarkable, save another disappointing trip to the pub on Monday night. 11 without a win in games that really matter, and still counting. Boys must become men eventually, surely…
Perhaps I'll get a clue on Saturday when I return to the sacred stadium to witness the battle against the high ball bombs of the Potters. Weather permitting, that is. Up to 10 centimetres of snow forecast here overnight. Brr…

Up and down

Life's a yo-yo, driven by the weather. Daytime maximum temperatures over the last week: -2 on Friday, 12 on Monday, 18 on Wednesday, 2 on Thursday. I missed the warmest 8th December on record in Lyon with a bit of up and down of my own. After watching a yo-yo match at Gerland on a balmy Tuesday evening (1-0 up, 2-1 down, one man down, 2-2 the final score, second place in the group), up in a plane from St Exupéry the next morning, down at Gatwick where it was about 15 degrees colder. London was suitably chilly for a stroll through the 'Winter Wonderland' in Hyde Park, followed by a wander through Kensington Gardens looking at strange reflective stainless steel sculptures.

Thence up to Finsbury Park to deliver shock news to the McBhoy and meet le grand chef in the Marquess. Three pints and a burger later we were in the holy ground watching a lacklustre passage to the knockout phases of the champions league. A Spanish or German giant awaits. We can only get better... Can't we?

After a morning chez J&C locked in financial negotiations, I headed home to more freezing temperatures. The football trip had been rather poorly conceived in that I missed the 8th décembre Fêtes des Lumières celebrations for the first time in 9 years, leaving la bienheureuse to view the bougies and fireworks on her own. So I got home, wolfed down soup and Christmas cake and then I left her in bed while I went out for a quick late night viewing of my own. First impressions this year are that the lights are somewhat lower key than usual. Perhaps partly a concession to la crise, perhaps partly an attempt to avoid the crowd crushes and bottlenecks that have been a feature of the big set piece displays in recent years. Photos to follow…

Lights, laughter and lack of sleep

In a blur of lights, food, wine and lots of fun, the week flew by. Our guests for the 2009 Fête des Lumières were up at 5am on Saturday morning to catch an early flight to Lyon. They were duly met at the airport (nice drive out, Mont Blanc clearly visible), transported home, fed a gourmet picnic lunch with Gewürztraminer, and then it was time for their afternoon nap. Prof Margarita and I huddled round a dodgy internet feed of the Potters getting snookered on the green baize of North London, and then finally it was time to hit the streets and the lights of Lyon.

The Lights this year were designed to be more eco-friendly and intimate, so after our first taste of the impressive projections on the Prefecture du Rhône, we opted for a stroll along the river towards Parc de la Tête d'Or. There were various small installations along the way, the most popular being a video projection with manipulated images of spectators. In the park itself, the trees were bathed in light snow (or snow light) and there was a fairly effective display of neothlithic caves and paintings. 

Afterwards we wandered back to the Poivre d'Âne for a late dinner, créme de St Jacques and duck burger among the delights on the menu, washed down with a rather nice St Joseph. Regrettably, I no longer feel able to claim that the famous moelleux au chocolat is the best in the world. And thence back home, for digestives and bedtime around 1.30am. Long day for the travellers...

Lie in on Sunday morning, followed by a trip to Les Halles de Lyon to effect purchases for Sunday dinner and chocolates for Christmas back home. For lunch we had une petite degustation of a Lyonnais specialty, quenelles. Afterwards the Caipirinha Kid and the Margarita man tried to walk it off with a stomp round the zoo and park while I dozed at home with Ms H and la bienheureuse prepared dinner. Early in the evening, we ventured out into the crowded streets. First objective was the display in Place des Terreaux, but with more people than ever, access was restricted so we abandoned the idea of queueing and headed instead for the Saône quayside to watch the fireworks, held over from the abandoned 14 juillet display. The Crack Fox was more of a delight for certain among our number...

Thence back into the throng, via the lights on the façade of the Église St Nizier to the queue for the show in Place Terreaux. The wait was worth it for a display on the Musée des Beaux Arts and the Hôtel de Ville, featuring time and weather, a play on the fact that the French use the same word, temps, for both. From there we dodged our way towards home, via the Christmas market and strike-reduced metro for the boys, where delicious lamb tajine was cooking slowly in the over. A rather fine Coteaux du Tracastin complemented it perfectly, followed by a la bienheureuse special, mmm... Tarte Tatin.

We were all in bed by 12.30 this time, la bienheureuse was up as usual to go to work, while the rest of us arose somewhat more tardily. Then we headed back to Les Halles for a sumptuous fish food platter in one of the restaurants. Oysters, prawns, urchins and king crab. Delicious, and we made it home in time for our guests to share a taxi to the airport with ma bien-aimée. Work trip for her, homeward bound for them.

It seemed quiet, at home on my own afterwards, but I put on a brave face and a waterproof and headed out in the evening to take in some more lights and take on some more water. The streets were much quieter, thanks in no small part to the fact that it poured with rain the whole evening. It was still worth the effort, because the light and sound tribute to the builders of St Jean cathedral was quite stunning, and there was a diverting, if tiring path up Fourvière hill to the basilica, where there was a display on the front façade for the first time.

La bienheureuse was home exhausted in the evening on Tuesday the 8th, the key day in the Fête des Lumières. We put our bougies on the window ledges but didn't make it out for more fireworks on the footbridge just down the road, opting instead for ham and brazed red cabbage, and Marseille losing out to the showboating Madrid galacticos on TV. I did go out later for one last look and photos of the cathedral show.

Lights, flights, too much action

Exhausting business, enjoying yourself. Barely two days of rest and recuperation (for me at least, la bienheureuse wasn't so lucky, rushed off her feet at work) following the holiday before we were welcoming Miss H and nos gooner confrères, J&C, for the Fêtes des Lumières. They were up before 5am for the flight from Stansted, in Lyon relaxing chez nous by eleven, and then soon having a siesta after a snack lunch of soup, cheese and saucisson. Told you it was tiring, having fun.

Refreshed by the nap and a champagne apéritif, in the evening we attacked the lights. Saturday night at the Fêtes des Lumières - the time when Lyon is at its busiest, millions of people on the streets. Still, we managed to fight our way through the crowds and see some of the main displays in the town centre and ended up at the Marché de Noël for vin chaud and tartiflette. After wending our way home, there was just enough strength left for a small nightcap...

Sunday morning - lie in. Croissants eventually purchased at about eleven am, and breakfast turned into brunch. Then it was out stomping the streets again, visiting the Marché de Noël again in daylight, before returning home via the christmas tree market at the bottom of the road. While la bienheureuse cooked, assisted here and there by her not so trusty sous-chef, les filles did a marvellous job of decorating tree and apartment. JW read his paper and helped with putting up any decorations more than four feet off the ground.

Such a relaxed afternoon was had by all except chef, that what was intended to be a late lunch/early dinner to give us time to go out lightseeing again turned into plain dinner. Not plain in the taste sense of course - delicious roast lamb, followed by cheese and tarte tatin, washed down by a bottle of wine or three... You can see where this is heading. By the time we were all sated, any desire to venture out onto the cold, crowded, albeit marvelously lit streets had all but vanished.

Monday morning - la bienheureuse was up at six to catch a flight for a day trip to Monheim. The rest of us had a lie in. In the event, flight delays meant she didn't make it to Germany and ended up back in the office before our guests had surfaced. Meanwhile, the lazy foursome eventually went out for another wander and a lovely late lunch in a Lyonnais bouchon. The slightly less lazy three then climbed Fourvière for a view of the distant, just-visible Mt Blanc, while Miss H went shopping. In the evening the four of us managed to get out again for a whistle-stop tour of the light attractions on the slopes of the Croix Rousse before meeting la bienheureuse for dinner in a restaurant on the banks of the Rhône.

And that was another Fêtes des Lumières come and gone. Tuesday I was gone too, off to catch an early flight to Porto, la bienheureuse was gone again, off to a 3 day training session just outside Lyon, and our guests were gone home, left to find their own way to the airport.

I enjoyed two days of lovely sunshine and sightseeing in Porto, a trip marred only by the football result and the carrying of a heavy cold. The latter meant I didn't get round to a visit to any of Porto's famous port cellars. Perhaps, next time. La bienheureuse got time off from her training course for good behaviour to see OL's match against Bayern. It helped of course, that she offered the spare ticket to the course organiser. They had an interesting trip down from the surrounding Lyonnais hills through the snow, and I returned on Thursday to a freezing Lyon and surrounding countryside covered with a light blanket of snow. If we weren't both so tired from all this merrymaking (and work), we'd be off up the mountains this weekend...

Les lumières brillaient, plus ou moins

La Fête des Lumières, version 2007, was a rather average millésime, a bit of a mixed bag. The organisers this year tried to make it a more accessible, personal event. Some of the big, set-piece displays in recent years have led to pedestrian bouchons - traffic jams - in some places, most notably around Place des Terreaux. A couple of years ago we had to give up trying to get in to watch what was a rather impressive show one evening because the crush of people trying to get into and out of the square was too great.

Thus this year, instead we had a giant disco ball in Place des Terreaux instead, which proved somewhat less of a draw, and a sea of illuminated blue ballons in Place St-Jean instead of the usual projected show on the façade of the cathedral. But there were still impressive displays here, and quirky ones there, including a giant mechanical caterpillar inhabited by deep-sea divers and welders. And in the final analysis, more people than ever were out on the streets to watch it all...

The Lights of Lyon

So, after 3 evenings spent trudging the streets of Lyon with la bienheureuse et la belle-mère, La Fête des Lumières is over once more. Impressions? Mixed, I'd say, an average year. Fewer big set-pieces, but perhaps a more varied selection. For instance, on the main day, the 8th we went to watch a wierd & wonderful mechanical caterpillar inhabited by what appeared to be deep sea divers making its way along one of the main roads. Short video below.


Another short video of part of the show projected onto the façade of the Préfecture du Rhone, perhaps the most impressive display:



Still photos of some of the other displays here on Noonadek.com, including the popular phone box fish tank. The weather was mostly somewhat less unkind than forecast. Thursday we stayed more or less dry, Friday we would have done apart from an abrupt and violent squall, which lasted about 10 minutes but managed to completely blow away everything on the food stall we were sheltering near. Saturday night there was light, intermittent rain, inconvenient but not unduly unpleasant.

La Fête begins

Today marks the start of the annual Fête des Lumières and therefore also the start of the annual visite de la belle-mère. Drove out to the airport to collect her at lunch-time in glorious, almost spring-like weather. Unfortunately the forecast for the rest of the weekend is threatening a repeat of last year's weather conditions which gave us driving rain and wind for most of the 4-day event.

I retrieved la voiture from our friendly local mechanic before heading off to the airport, swooning at the size of the bill for the service. Not, I hasten to add, because garages here overcharge any more than their counterparts across La Manche. In fact I'd say our jolly garage owner is a particularly friendly, helpful and honest example of his breed. The size of the bill owed rather more to the age of the car. As we're driving to the UK for les vacances de Noël we decided we'd better get it serviced first.

Bad decision. Or good decision, depending on how you look at it. Clutch on the point of failure, bald front tyres, leaking radiator. All needed replacing. Total bill: erm, rather a lot. Let's hope it lasts another few years while we console ourselves that, having been given the chance to buy the garage we currently rent, we still have a car to put in it.

Que La Fête commence

That annual light and sound extravaganza that is La Fête des Lumières de Lyon starts today and continues until Sunday. Impressions of this year's event in the next few days...

Meanwhile I was given a small insight into the French way of doing business today. Not that's it's a method restricted only to France, but anyway, I was taking the car back to the garage we rent after a painfully expensive service this morning, when I bumped into the owner of the garage. He has previously asked us if we'd be interested in buying it, but having taken the decision to do so, he's been remarkably difficult to get hold of since. Probably something to do with the fact that he appears to spend most of his time in Costa Rica.

I thus grasped the opportunity and asked him about the garage. Yes, he was still interested in selling, but not in any hurry. Then he asked how we would finance the purchase. Not sure, I said, probably get a mortgage.

"Ah, you couldn't pay cash?".
Maybe for part of it.
"Ah, because you see, I don't want to pay capital gains tax."
Ah, I think I see. In that case, the price would be a bit lower, perhaps?
"Ah, no. It's a very good price. Garages round here are highly sought after."

Hmm, quite why he thinks we'd do him a favour by pretending the garage cost less than it really did without any gain to ourselves I don't know. His price, by the way, had mysteriously gone up by 1000 euros. Perhaps a demonstration of why he's a good businessman. I wonder if Costa Rica is one of those tax havens...?