Old City Blues, or, Running Away To The Circus
Trip Start May 14, 2012
79Trip End Ongoing
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What I did
What excellent guests.
The original travel plan was to head to Lyon for the night but, as our travel plans tend to do, this has been altered. We'd be looking at a four and a half hour drive to Paris tomorrow morning (according to Google Maps) if we did this, so we look to see if there is a closer option. I suggest Geneva but that option is quickly shot down. I know it's further out of the way than Lyon is, but heck, it's die Schweiz!
This is when it starts to rain, when it finally rains
We're just glad, though, that we pick up Mika and Cookie before the rainfall. They are really good travel companions and have lots of stories. Mika is the one going to circus school, which was what she was doing for a year in Montpellier. There is a more prestigious school in Brussels that she's heading for, and she has to be there in two days in order to make the tryouts. Cookie is just a friend of hers along for the ride - they both hitched down from Stockholm at different times to meet up in Montpellier to head north together. Their boldness makes me consider my own means of transportation. Inspires me, perhaps.
As Lyon is a far better place to get rides than Dijon we decide to drop them off just outside of town. The traffic is terrible so they should be able to get a ride with ease, what with all the cars NOT MOVING and all. But it is nice to slow down while we're actually in the city - I've been doing a number of unofficial pilgrimages to sites of famous writers and Lyon is the site proclaiming Antoine de St-Exubery as its cultural patronThe Little Prince - a favourite of mine.
It is still raining when we drop them off at the toll station, but there's enough cover to keep them relatively dry. And, lets face it, they're pretty enough to know they'll get a ride soon, especially if it looks dour.
But the dourness doesn't last long once we are north of Lyon - the drive to Dijon is quite dry. We get into the city at a good time to drop all our things and start to look for a church. My dad is quite good about helping me make Sunday mass, even if he himself doesn't really go in for the whole church himself. But today that committment reaches a whole new level as we realize the church is in the old city.
Churches in old Europe usually elicit excitement - however once we get deep into the sandstone heart of Dijon the feeling quickly turns to horror. Narrow side streets. Predominately one-way. Buildings tall enough to efface all sign of steeples. We finally catch sight of one before we are forced to turn into yet another labyrinth. The videos on this post don't do the city justice. When we finally find a church and I find myself saying "if it turns out to be Anglican..."
It indeed is Catholic
Getting back, though, is harder. I have Google directions to get to the church (that, you know, were trÚs helpful) but not to get back. With all the one ways (etc) we are quickly swept into an area of town we know nothing about but through sheer sense of direction (read: luck) we finally find the assortment of international flags signifying our hostels front yard. Epic win.
Soon after we grab a baguette, it dawns that Dijon is my favourite old city yet.