Lyon
We left behind the ease and comfort of being able to speak(ish) the language back in Spain and dove headfirst into a giant language barrier in France. When people speak French to Lauren and I, our reaction is always the same flustered expression of urgency with our mouths silently fluttering in the hope that a response might spontaneously combust from our reeling minds. An immaculately conceived French response has yet to materialize, but there have been plenty of lengthy silences where no one involved knows what’s going on. Thankfully, the French have completely shattered all stereotypes and been outstandingly friendly and accommodating towards us bumbling idiots.
Lyon was a good mediator between Corsica and Paris. It is a working French city with a large population of students that isn’t the least bit touristy (relatively.) We had a good time imagining that people might’ve mistaken us for locals as long as we didn’t open our mouths or take out the camera/map. There weren’t too many sites to see, so this is where Lauren and I stocked up on winter gear and ate pastries. Lots.
Tags: Travel
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