Today is a workday for Géraldine, so with blurry eyes we got up early and prepared for the day. I am heading south to Lyon, to say hello to my friend Marie, and visit a city that I have not seen before. Actually, I was in Lyon 38 years ago, and remember getting trapped in its toll peripheral road because I couldn't find a place to pay with cash (I don't remember how I escaped, but it was the start of my hate relation with automated toll roads).
Géraldine accompanied me to the light rail station, and gave me very precise instructions on getting out at the station Gare de Lyon (a bit obvious, isn't it), two stations past her own station. It was also time to say au revoir to my dear friend, but I will see her in about ten days for our joint trip to Sweden, Finland, and Denmark, so it was not a sad au revoir.
The Gare de Lyon is an enormous train station but is reasonably well provided with signs and electronic boards, so I had little trouble getting to the TGV to Lyon (TGV stands for Train de Grande Vitesse), which on good stretches can reach speeds of 300 km/hr). The trip to Lyon was thus less than 2 pm, which I spent looking at the beautiful French countryside.
Things started to go wrong when I arrived in Lyon at the height of la canicule at noon. My unfriendly lodging had specified that I could only get access to the apartment at 4 pm, and no, I could not come in earlier to drop off my backpack. Grr! Doing touristy things in the heat, carrying a backpack, was out of the questions. Géraldine had suggested going to a movie theater, and indeed right in front of the station was a huge shopping center with a movie theater. But so was also a very large public library, which is a traditional way to escape the heat. I went there and was welcome with open arms, so I sat in a quiet corner with access to the internet, until it was time to walk to my apartment. They were supposed to send me an access code and entrance instructions before 4 pm but they hadn't, so I sent them a reminder message and got something back as I was getting to the correct address.
I needed to post a deposit of 300 euros using my credit card and a secure website they directed me to. I sensed trouble, because my American credit cards want to confirm the expense by sending a text message to my American phone number, which of course doesn't work abroad. So the first attempt ended hanging in hyperspace. I tried a second card, without success. Finally I tried my ATM, which didn't ask for authentication, but again sent the payment app into hyperspace. So I called and it was a management company where the lady only spoke French. I explained the problem and she couldn't help me. Maybe I could have someone else with French credit card do the deposit?
In frustration I decided to look for a nearby hotel (expensive) and I was almost there when I got an email saying that my deposit had gone through! So I walked back to the original address and found myself in an old building, without elevator, trudging old stairs to the fourth floor, where I found a hot and tiny apartment that brought me to the France of the post-war years, where people lived in very reduced quarters. It was probably a single-occupant apartment that someone inherited, fitted it with a double bed (barely leaving enough space for anything else, and then put it in Booking.com to make a bit of money from it. I was not very happy, but at least I have a place for tonight and a quick visit to the supermarket provided me with the necessaries for dinner.
I am sure tomorrow will be a
better day.
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