A Lyon Day with Endless Rain Showers

Spent the weekend in Lyon—wandering, eating, shopping. The point of travel, after all, is to step away from the familiar, step into the unknown, and let your mind soak up fresh, unexpected stimuli. Switzerland feels like a crystal globe: streets immaculately clean, people polite and reserved, as if life there hums along to a quiet, controlled rhythm. France, though—especially in the run-up to the Olympics—feels like a city mid-mend. Everywhere, there’s the clink of tools, scaffolding draped over old facades, workers patching up cobblestones or repainting storefronts.👌 Lyon, though, wraps all that “in-progress” chaos in a warm, lived-in energy. It’s a city that swallows contradictions whole: grand Roman ruins rub shoulders with a Notre-Dame; clunky, even ugly skyscrapers loom over medieval lanes; homeless folks camp under AC units outside malls, while just steps away, a lies on a bus stop bench, scratching his back against the pavement. 😊 You dodge dog poop (and still step in it three times), yet on a Sunday—when most French cities snooze—here, shops bustle, cash registers ping, and crowds spill from cafes. The food? It doesn’t chase “authenticity” so much as “abundance”: Thai curries next to Lyonnaise bouchons, falafel stands beside patisseries. It’s messy, unpolished, and utterly alive.😁 Then there’s the nature: Jardin Botanique and Tête d’Or Park bleed into one another, a sprawling tapestry of ecosystems. Wander through, and you’ll stumble from rainforest humidity (where pitcher plants dangle like greedy jewels) to desert aridity (cacti stand sentinel, spines glinting).❤️ There are mimosa trees that shrink at a touch, arabica coffee plants with glossy leaves, camellias heavy with blooms, breadfruit trees, and thickets straight out of Madagascar. And deer—graceful, spotted creatures that linger near the paths, as if they own the place.🙌 But let’s talk about the rain. It rained, oh, maybe 100 times that day? Five minutes of sunshine, then clouds roll in like a freight train, and suddenly you’re drenched. Five minutes later, the sky clears, and the sun blazes so bright you squint. It’s a rhythm I never quite got used to.😘 Growing up in a temperate monsoon climate, I’m wired for predictability—steady seasons, rain that lasts hours, not minutes. Here, I’d dart into a museum when the downpour hit, then rush back out when the sun peeked through to chase those deer. Slowly, though, the urgency faded. I stopped checking the forecast, stopped fretting about wet shoes. I learned to lean into the laziness: sipping coffee under a café awning as raindrops drummed the roof, then strolling through a sunlit park an hour later, letting the warmth seep into my bones. Our hotel, the Pullman, was a solid pick.😂 A short walk from the train station, with spacious rooms and all the little comforts: a kettle, slippers, shower cap, coffee and tea bags, a hair dryer. The toiletries? Clarins—nice touch. Small misses: no toothbrushes or toothpaste, and no hooks in the shower (a minor annoyance when you’re juggling wet towels). They held our luggage for us after check-out, which was a lifesaver.😍 Lyon in the rain isn’t the postcard-perfect version you see in travel brochures. But that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s raw, unfiltered, a city that doesn’t apologize for its mess—or its mood swings. By the end of the weekend, I didn’t mind the rain. 👌 It felt like part of the deal: the chaos, the contradictions, the way the light shifts 10 times an hour. That’s the magic of it—Lyon doesn’t just show you its beauty; it lets you live in its imperfection.👍 #Lyon #FranceTravel #AnnecyTown #Geneva #Travel #Algeria #AfricanLife #LivingAbroadInAfrica #LyonGuide