Lyon is a large city with museums, shopping, and a massive reputation for being the gastronomic destination in France. Frankly we had enjoyed so many wonderful meals in Paris, Toulouse, Albi, the best baguette and croissants possible in tiny Castres, surprising food in Le Puy-en-Velay, that we were probably food-fatigued by the time we got to Lyon.

Nonetheless, after completing our shopping quest for our daughter (a visit to Sezanne) I opened my phone and found a bouchon, Le Bouchon des Cordeliers, a few blocks away. Bouchons are traditional restaurants that evolved from mom-run home-style food served to working class people. They are now certified by the city and display this status on plaques posted outside.

The most traditional dishes are offered at every bouchon—quenelles (a delicate fish dumpling served in a crawfish sauce), smoked herring-potato salads, salade Lyonnaise, oeufs murette, Andoullette (tripe sausage), pumpkin soup, tarte aux pralines (a red pie made of local pralines)—we tried them all. Note that the salade Lyonnaise served as a first course (entree) is huge. That and a bowl of soup would have been sufficient!

We had a yummy and fun lunch, celebrating that we had achieved success at Sezanne for our daughter, and wandered back through the neighborhood to the Musee des Beaux Arts…no timed tickets like Paris, so we walked right in. Beautiful. We took the elevator to the top floor and zigzagged down to the ground floor. Not overwhelming like Musee d’Orsay in Paris and with a most entertaining collection. I discovered a new-to-me artist (Henri Lachieze-Rey). and now must track down a book of his work.

Our first morning we had been a little frustrated trying to find a boulangerie with coffee and seats, finally stopping in a tiny artisan bakery with fantastic baked goods and, as we discovered, typically horrid coffee. The next morning I found a large restaurant that opened at 7:30, and the Petit Dejeuner Formule was great except for the mediocre coffee. Shortly after leaving it started to rain and I missed a small step and fell onto my ankle bone in a (fortunately?) covered arcade. GRRRR! Naturally I kept walking/hobbling on it Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and through the Charles deGaulle airport Wednesday morning. (It is now Friday, am back home, still limping and taking ibuprofen.).

Our only chance to see the Gallo-Roman museum was this day, Sunday, so after a painful bus ride back to the hotel to put my foot up with an ice bag we headed back to old, old Lyon for our last hit of Roman history. The route is up the funicular, included in our 72 hour public transportation pass (HIGHLY recommended—it is a bargain and covers all buses, trams, metro and the funicular) and a short walk to the museum which, in my injured state, seemed to take forever. Great museum! And it is built right next to the amphitheater, which we passed on due to my #@$& ankle. At one point I was looking at something and realized there were so many languages being spoken around me I had to move on to concentrate on what I was seeing.

We had a reservation at Bouchon Vieux Lyon, another racous food experience. It was so tiny we were only an inch separated from the next table, occupied by a lovely young man who is, of all things, a college Spanish teacher from Istanbul. We had a delightful Spanish-English conversation and traded contact information. After several hours of eating and drinking we made it back to the hotel and collapsed.

Monday we had a plan which was a bit constrained due to my ankle. Our first stop was at a pharmacie, where the exceedingly kind pharmacist fitted me for an ankle bandage that helped a lot. Our boulangerie destination was across the street, and it was delicious with good coffee! After we finished I went inside to tell them how good it was and I was writing a “revoir” with cinq etoiles! We had yet to explore old, old Lyon and it was raining pretty hard. We decided to try the private Musee Cinema et Miniature. It was fun! Even with lots of school groups, we enjoyed the rebuilt movie sets, movie props, matte paintings and miniatures. And it was small, 7 tiny floors in an ancient building, so not a lot of walking. When we got put it was pouring! We returned to the hotel for another round of ice-on-the-ankle and I looked for our last bouchon, which might have been our favorite, Bouchon Comptoir Brunet. I requested a reservation for 7, when it opened, and we hopped back on the bus. Yes, reservation accepted and we entered this cozy, hospitable spot for a bottle of beaujelais, oeufs murette, snails, herring salade…for my main I had veal kidneys (with, of course, scalloped potatoes) and David had a pork belly thing.

The next morning we got on the train back to Paris. Checked into the Holiday Inn Express, took the train back into Paris for a final meal at Au Pied du Cochon, and the next morning we were staggering through CDG airport and onto a really excellent United Polaris flight back home. Landed an hour early, had our first Global Entry passport control experience, and zoom we Lyfted home to ecstatic dogs and a nap!