Lyon: Napoleon’s Crib

 Ok, my plan was to write one entry for each destination. Nice and tidy. 

Yeah, no. That’s not gonna work. 

I’m moving here. Selling my house. Anyone want a hot tub and paddleboard? You haul. 

Jeezus. 

(This is not my living room…maybe someday! Details to follow)

Arrival in Lyon. A couple of train rides, Lyon Part Dieu station is like Grand Central.

The view of the Rhone from my apartment window…

Guys don’t wear shorts here. Well, I did….it was warm!

I might have to sign some autographs later. 

Basilica of Notre Dame. 

25 Macarons for 65 euros? I bet they’re good. 

Now, for the main event: a private dinner with an acclaimed chef at the apartment once inhabited by…..Napoleon’s mistress. 

I kid you not. 

Found this dinner on ‘Eat With’ and couldn’t pass it up. And a slow night; no one else registered, so a VERY private dinner!

My view of the basilica from the dining room table. 

Chef Arhtaud is equal parts Mozart, Bernstein, Barishnikov, and Andy Warhol. His family has owned this property for 25 years……he went to NYU for school, and his parents rented out Tavern on the Green for his graduation. 

No, I couldn’t stop laughing. What in the holy hell was I doing there? 

Then he started firing with both barrels. First up, a soufflé with goat cheese from Corsica. Tremendously perfect. 

Difficult to eat while taking in the surroundings. 

Of course, the family wine…light, fruity, perfect. 

The one time owner (the short guy) took some flooring from his other pad…the one in Versailles. 

This was a poached egg on a pastry, in a sauce of mushrooms and onions. I almost quit right then, just waving the white flag. Nearly made me cry, it was so good. 

I needed more wine to get me thru this, and Arthaud complied. 

The view as I ate: that’s Notre Dame again. 

This one was possibly the most valuable player: poached pike with a bechamel breading in a crayfish/lobster sauce with cognac and brandy. I needed some biscuits to take care of the sauce….just an exquisite dish. 

Thinly sliced potatoes with milk, salt/pepper, and garlic, cooked an hour. 

I was trying to capture the details of the door frame when he walked out of the kitchen to show me more mad genius. 

A salad with Roquefort, comté, brie, and Boursin. Just perfectly balanced. 

Dessert was some pureed Normandy apple on mascarpone and cream (I think). Maybe it was egg whites. 

A family aperitf: crushed thyme, neutral liquor, licorice, verbena, and sugar. Aged three years!!! So smooth. 

The Maestro…he said I look 45….now I KNOW he’s crazy!

His bathroom was covered with French quotes…translation, anyone? 

Seriously….been in town 6 hours and am thinking about real estate. 

I can’t imagine what the rest of the week will be like. 

Post-script: my chef Arthaud worked at the 2024 Paris Olympics!! Had I known that, we would have had much more to talk about. Very small world!

 

Girona

My next stop was going to be an 8 hr train ride, so I decide to break it up halfway

Ergo, Girona

This city was on my radar awhile….as a pro cycling fan, I remember that the US Postal Team moved their base here. A little unconventional, but the justifcation was a smaller town, great terrain, etc….

Yeah, that was Lance Armstrong’s reasoning…also the French government was beginning to close in on doping cyclists! I’m sure that was just coincidental….Girona being 50 miles from a major airport seemed a bit puzzling, too. 

Love me some train rides. 

This sign made me smile. 

I gotta look into this ex-pat thing…so pretty here. 

My lodging was pretty sweet. 

My man Chris, roomie while shipbound, remembers my first house and the pool table like this

First dinner: nothing fancy, some Indian chicken n stuff. Hit the spot, though. 

A bunch of walking on my second day….i was only here 40 hours or so. 

I did a stair workout right here….legs are strong, cardio is not (A week in very flat Valencia took its toll)

Dinner: salad, smoked sardines, and a really nice cod with peppers.

Girona is around 100,000 people, similar to Bend. Valencia is 800,000….I think I’d lean toward the latter, with a few weekend trips up the coast for a getaway. 

Vámos!!!! Northbound yet again. At my next destination, I’ll be looking for Paul Bocuse and that $20 he still owes me.