Today was Lyon day! We started with a flat tire. It sucked. However, that is travel! It was really fantastic watching the adults get into survival-mode—everyone running around, y’know. It’s a type of competency that is oft rare.

Lyon was magical. It has this Parisian aspect to it: mixes of medieval, neo-byzantine, Belle Époque, and modern architecture. Buildings are flat against each other—only traboules, small alleyways, to enter certain courtyards. On the top of Lyon sits the grand Notre-Dame Basilica of Lyon and a bootleg top-piece of the Eiffel Tower, overlooking the rivers of Lyon. Below it sits the courthouse, creating this perfect triangle from afar. We saw several historical buildings whilst getting a taste as to why the Lyonnais believe in their superiority to Paris.

The guided tour was followed by a quick, informal concert within this ancient church, without statues as a consequence of French Revolution pillaging. The sound was absolutely beautiful. And while a small audience, it felt more personal. Here is this special sound that is suddenly limited to these few who came. It’s now something between us.

Afterwards was lunch. While searching for a place with Escargot, we found this small family restaurant, hidden 20 feet underground. It was absolutely beautiful and gave the most authentic Lyon experience—including a waitress without many skills in English (you know it’s special). I chose to have the quenelles with lobster sauce—a Lyonnais favorite. Delicious is an understatement. It was absolutely fantastic.

And at one point during our meal, there was a single piece of bread left, and we split it. From my small corner, I was suddenly moved. I thought of Latin. In Latin, com means together and sharing—think company—and panis means bread. Together, they make ‘companion.’ Max later commented that this is also where the French word for ‘friend’ comes from: copain! Thus, our companions are those we share bread with. And suddenly, I understood that, despite thousands of years of change, this conjoined comfort of breaking bread has remained unchanged. There’s a wholesome human benevolence, trusting another’s bare hands to share food. While I am not at all religious, I finally understood the lost meaning to say… Jesus at the last supper—placing trust within the hands of food—and even the Eucharist—breaking bread as body. In eating, there is unity. In eating, there is vulnerability.

Later, we passed each other water bottles as we walked towards our surprise boat. Suddenly, I watched the bread phenomenon on a large scale, each sacrificing their own thirst for another’s. We passed them down to the end like a small village to a burning home of a neighbor. It was, again, the moment I realized how close I had gotten with these people—people I may never see again.

Some things just never change.

Later, we took a walk to see a mural of Lyon’s most important figures, accompanied by a surprise boat ride as reparations for the earlier delays. We went across the river Saône, overlooking our prior path. Relaxing and beautiful way to end Lyon.

We finished with another three-course dinner. That’s it for today. Cya tomorrow.