Lyon Day 1
Just like our 2014 trip, a book Randy was reading played a role in choosing one of our destinations. Then, it was Monuments Men, and his learning that Charlemagne's tomb was in Aachen. For our 2015 trek, it was one of the Lymond Chronicles by Dorothy Dunnett that initially turned him on to the idea of Lyon in France.
I was fine with wherever we might have ended up, but Lyon sounded like the right place for us to be for a few days on our way to San Sebastian. There were other options--like Milan or Paris. But Lyon was easier to book and a quite a bit less expensive than than these other places. The city also held the ruins of a Roman theater, so Randy was doubly sold.
And so very beautiful.
More after the jump
I have already blogged, months ago, about our travel to and arriving into Lyon the day after the terrorist attack in Paris. Those days that followed were muted and tense for us, though we were welcomed every where warmly. We were understandably (I think) restrained in our enjoyment. I didn't even pull out my Terrible Towel once in Lyon. I was concerned about trespassing on the country's grief, of enjoying ourselves too much in the middle of this time. Several times, though, in restaurants and our hotel, people apologized to us, the tourists, for this not being an ideal time to be in France.
Lyon was still incredible--two very full days for us, but there was a lot we missed. I was particularly keen to see anything connected with St. Irenaeus. I had studied him years ago, in a course on Eucharist. I had for a long time (wrongly, of course), believed he was called St. Irenaeus of Lyon merely because his relics were transferred there (like St. Donatus of Münstereifel, who was Roman, not German). Irenaeus had served as Bishop here at the Roman city of Lugdunum (now Lyon). We were close to where he was martyred and originally entombed, but we did not get there. We also did not get inside any of the major museums, like the Musée de Beaux Arts or the Musée gallo-romain de Fourvière. Museums are closed on Mondays, one of the two days we were there. Our first day was Sunday, and as much as we wanted to see All The Things, we had to keep an eye on getting to a 5:00 pm Mass at the Basilica.
However, we did spend a lot of time walking around, amazed at how the different periods of Lyon's history continued to exist side-by-side for all this time. Our hotel was in a newly developed area near the confluence of the Saône and Rhône Rivers, so we walked up the Saône until Fourvière was in sight.
Along the way, we encountered an adorable public park, which included a water-play component. Myles and Brigid are unable to pass up an opportunity to play with fluid dynamics.
Also along both sides of the Saône were major art installations by international artists. We were able to see one, Le Balcon by Tadashi Kawamata, up close, from both top and the bottom. It was built where a bridge once joined the two riverbanks, and what remained from that earlier bridge was the rather ornate base.
Once we crossed the river, our first stop was Église Saint-Georges.
The first church built on this location was dedicated to St. Eulalie in the 500s. It was destroyed in an 8th century Saracen raid; the reconstruction that followed that was when the church was then dedicated to St. George. The current exterior is only from 1844, with earlier elements (I read) in the interior. We didn't go in because it was Sunday, and the church had a full Mass schedule. It would have been interesting to show the kids, too, because Saint George is one of the parishes that celebrates the Rite Lyonnais, though not for every Mass.
From there we continued over to the area known as La Place de la Trinité or the Guignol Village. When I think of Lyon, this corner is one of the places that readily comes to my mind. As the backdrop to the Guignol Puppet Shows (I'll come back to this in my second Lyon Post), this is so Lyon.
Our next stop before we went up to Mass was the main Cathedral of Lyon, Cathédrale Saint-Jean-Baptiste de Lyon. This church, and the square surrounding it, was incredible. The Manécanterie is probably the oldest building of continuous use in Lyon and was built in the eleventh century. It had served many purposes over these last 1000 years, such as dining hall, choir school, and now, the Cathedral Treasury. It had been modified over the years, and damaged during the Huguenot siege of Lyon, but it survived.
From this side it allowed Brigid to play a little history detective, looking at the doorways that were once cut through the building and then later sealed up.
The Cathedral was a French Gothic wonder.
Today's Cathedral was finished in 1476 after more than two hundred years of construction over the ruins of a sixth century church.
The late-afternoon sun shown through the south-facing windows, doubling the colors on the north-side wall.
Myles and Brigid made beelines for candles. Lots of people were, in fact, which wasn't surprising.
All the candles.
This rose window with the Lamb of God at its center was produced in 1392.
The choir stalls, the chapels around the choir, and the astronomical clock (which I had been really, really wanting to see) were all not able to be seen because of the restoration work. All the more reason to return to Lyon, right?
These windows were part of the Chapel of the Holy Sacrament (also now St. Vincent de Paul Chapel) and were crafted in the fifteenth century.
Hanging in the Cathedral we saw this poster in advance of December 8, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception which is also Lyon's Fête des lumières, Festival of Lights. What started as a show of gratitude to Mary to whose intercession the citizens of Lyon prayed recently became something more secular. In 2015, following the terrorist attack in Paris, the huge, four-day civic part of the Festival was cancelled, and it proceeded still in the churches and in the city in muted fashion. This sign, too, was in French and Arabic, published by Lyon Mossoul, an official twinning between the two dioceses to give atttention to the plight of Iraqi Christians and provide aid. This, then, seemed like an invite, too, to the Iraqis to join with the December 8 tradition.
It was getting on in the afternoon, and we did not want to be late for Mass. The Basilica of Notre Dame was practically overhead.
Fortunately, there was a funniular we could take up the hill.
It was growing dark while we were at Mass. After Mass, when we would have had time to walk around and take in the decoration of the church, it was too dark to get any good looks. Most of the walls bore mossaic, and with only the electric lights they were dull in appearance.
We would have to come back sometime the next day to see them in full sunlight. Even the many, many candles did not give off enough light to show off the mosaic walls.
The view, though, from the terrace next to the Basilica.
On the way back to our hotel, we happened upon this impromptu memorial at the statue of King Louis VIV.
I was fine with wherever we might have ended up, but Lyon sounded like the right place for us to be for a few days on our way to San Sebastian. There were other options--like Milan or Paris. But Lyon was easier to book and a quite a bit less expensive than than these other places. The city also held the ruins of a Roman theater, so Randy was doubly sold.
And so very beautiful.
More after the jump
I have already blogged, months ago, about our travel to and arriving into Lyon the day after the terrorist attack in Paris. Those days that followed were muted and tense for us, though we were welcomed every where warmly. We were understandably (I think) restrained in our enjoyment. I didn't even pull out my Terrible Towel once in Lyon. I was concerned about trespassing on the country's grief, of enjoying ourselves too much in the middle of this time. Several times, though, in restaurants and our hotel, people apologized to us, the tourists, for this not being an ideal time to be in France.
Lyon was still incredible--two very full days for us, but there was a lot we missed. I was particularly keen to see anything connected with St. Irenaeus. I had studied him years ago, in a course on Eucharist. I had for a long time (wrongly, of course), believed he was called St. Irenaeus of Lyon merely because his relics were transferred there (like St. Donatus of Münstereifel, who was Roman, not German). Irenaeus had served as Bishop here at the Roman city of Lugdunum (now Lyon). We were close to where he was martyred and originally entombed, but we did not get there. We also did not get inside any of the major museums, like the Musée de Beaux Arts or the Musée gallo-romain de Fourvière. Museums are closed on Mondays, one of the two days we were there. Our first day was Sunday, and as much as we wanted to see All The Things, we had to keep an eye on getting to a 5:00 pm Mass at the Basilica.
However, we did spend a lot of time walking around, amazed at how the different periods of Lyon's history continued to exist side-by-side for all this time. Our hotel was in a newly developed area near the confluence of the Saône and Rhône Rivers, so we walked up the Saône until Fourvière was in sight.
Along the way, we encountered an adorable public park, which included a water-play component. Myles and Brigid are unable to pass up an opportunity to play with fluid dynamics.
Also along both sides of the Saône were major art installations by international artists. We were able to see one, Le Balcon by Tadashi Kawamata, up close, from both top and the bottom. It was built where a bridge once joined the two riverbanks, and what remained from that earlier bridge was the rather ornate base.
Once we crossed the river, our first stop was Église Saint-Georges.
The first church built on this location was dedicated to St. Eulalie in the 500s. It was destroyed in an 8th century Saracen raid; the reconstruction that followed that was when the church was then dedicated to St. George. The current exterior is only from 1844, with earlier elements (I read) in the interior. We didn't go in because it was Sunday, and the church had a full Mass schedule. It would have been interesting to show the kids, too, because Saint George is one of the parishes that celebrates the Rite Lyonnais, though not for every Mass.
From there we continued over to the area known as La Place de la Trinité or the Guignol Village. When I think of Lyon, this corner is one of the places that readily comes to my mind. As the backdrop to the Guignol Puppet Shows (I'll come back to this in my second Lyon Post), this is so Lyon.
Our next stop before we went up to Mass was the main Cathedral of Lyon, Cathédrale Saint-Jean-Baptiste de Lyon. This church, and the square surrounding it, was incredible. The Manécanterie is probably the oldest building of continuous use in Lyon and was built in the eleventh century. It had served many purposes over these last 1000 years, such as dining hall, choir school, and now, the Cathedral Treasury. It had been modified over the years, and damaged during the Huguenot siege of Lyon, but it survived.
From this side it allowed Brigid to play a little history detective, looking at the doorways that were once cut through the building and then later sealed up.
The Cathedral was a French Gothic wonder.
Today's Cathedral was finished in 1476 after more than two hundred years of construction over the ruins of a sixth century church.
The late-afternoon sun shown through the south-facing windows, doubling the colors on the north-side wall.
Myles and Brigid made beelines for candles. Lots of people were, in fact, which wasn't surprising.
All the candles.
This rose window with the Lamb of God at its center was produced in 1392.
The choir stalls, the chapels around the choir, and the astronomical clock (which I had been really, really wanting to see) were all not able to be seen because of the restoration work. All the more reason to return to Lyon, right?
These windows were part of the Chapel of the Holy Sacrament (also now St. Vincent de Paul Chapel) and were crafted in the fifteenth century.
Hanging in the Cathedral we saw this poster in advance of December 8, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception which is also Lyon's Fête des lumières, Festival of Lights. What started as a show of gratitude to Mary to whose intercession the citizens of Lyon prayed recently became something more secular. In 2015, following the terrorist attack in Paris, the huge, four-day civic part of the Festival was cancelled, and it proceeded still in the churches and in the city in muted fashion. This sign, too, was in French and Arabic, published by Lyon Mossoul, an official twinning between the two dioceses to give atttention to the plight of Iraqi Christians and provide aid. This, then, seemed like an invite, too, to the Iraqis to join with the December 8 tradition.
It was getting on in the afternoon, and we did not want to be late for Mass. The Basilica of Notre Dame was practically overhead.
Fortunately, there was a funniular we could take up the hill.
It was growing dark while we were at Mass. After Mass, when we would have had time to walk around and take in the decoration of the church, it was too dark to get any good looks. Most of the walls bore mossaic, and with only the electric lights they were dull in appearance.
We would have to come back sometime the next day to see them in full sunlight. Even the many, many candles did not give off enough light to show off the mosaic walls.
The view, though, from the terrace next to the Basilica.
On the way back to our hotel, we happened upon this impromptu memorial at the statue of King Louis VIV.
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