In Lyon, France a stunning white basilica sits high up on a hill overlooking the city. You can see it from most anywhere in town, but what you can’t see is a hidden gem that sits just below it.

In truth, there are many little hidden places to discover in France’s “Second City.” There are the passage ways or traboules that once served as a way move wares more easily to market.

And like any city that has grown up over time, you will stumble upon lovely squares or parks as you wind through the narrow streets.

 

Funicular, Funicular

The Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière is huge, with an impressive array of towers and high, arching windows. At night it is illuminated by a sea of lights that make the church appear to float on the hilltop. (Lyon is the city of lights, after all.)

It is accessed from the lower reaches of the city by either some fairly intimidating stairs or the popular funicular that lumbers up the hillside from the old town below. On my second day in Lyon, it was clear that I was going to get up that hill.

After contemplating the route on a map, I wimped out and chose the funicular. The line to Fourviere was out of service, so I ended up heading to Saint-Just. The cars are small and square, and mostly you are in a tunnel. Honestly, it is not a terribly exciting trip.

Still it is a fun word to say, and I had never been on a funicular before. There was something charming about the blunt little cars that run up and down the hill, and even on the weekend they were crowded with locals. It made me feel like a Lyonnaise, just for a moment.

Romans in Lyon

Arriving in Saint-Just meant I had a bit of a walk ahead of me. I don’t mind walks, especially in new cities. This walk in particular was wonderful. There was so much around me. Fragments of ancient walls, large villas, banks of apartments, cascading gardens; it was a treat for the eyes.

It was a gorgeous day, one that was tailor-made for wandering. I found myself in front of a museum called the Musee Gallo-Roman. Since I am a history geek, I had check it out. It is dedicated to the excavation of both a Roman amphitheater and odeon which sit next to one another.

I sat for a moment on one of the stone benches of the amphitheater. It is still in use, it seems as a group of young players were practicing for a play that was opening at the weekend. It was another ‘wave of history’ moments, as thought about all the people who had sat there – from Roman times to modern.

How many? Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, over the years had sat there on that hillside and enjoyed (or not) some entertainment. It was a stupefying.

The Basilica

Finally I found my way to my gleaming white Basilica. The basilica is really two churches stacked on each other, and if I thought it imposing from a distance, up close it is even more daunting.

Two large towers frame the building. A grand set of stairs is topped by three arches and a determined looking lion looks out from the top of the lower church. It is hard to describe in a way that does it justice.

That day a couple of bus loads of religious tourists were descending just as I arrived. I should have been irritated, but it was okay. The church seemed to swallow us all with room to spare. I wandered and gawked; chatted with a couple of people and felt that I needed at least a week to go through the entire place. It was just that overwhelming.

When it came time to head back towards the old town, I decided to walk down the hill even though it was a little intimidating. You see, I had been told that there were beautiful gardens below the church that were worth the walk.

A Hidden Garden

As I mentioned, the day was  gorgeous, if a bit on the warm side (hey, I’m from the desert, I can cope – sometimes). All the pavement that comes with city life was reflecting back all that sunshine and heat, and honestly, I wasn’t at all sure this was going to be a good idea.

Then, the path dipped below the bluff where the church sits and suddenly I found myself in this cool, green, enchanting place. It really was like stepping into a different world. The noise of Lyon – all cities are a bit noisy – the crowds of tourists and pilgrims, the heat and the black and white world of pavement and roads – it just disappeared.

I spent some time in this beautiful garden. After a moment, I took a seat on one of the inviting benches, contemplating the sculpture and just enjoying the peacefulness of the place. I live for moments like that, when you feel taken out of time and the minutes seem to stretch out into blissful hours.

From time to time another human would wander into the space. We would smile at one another because we were fellow travelers in this little green world.

Lyon was somewhere out there – above me, below me. But for that moment, for that little stretch of time, I was in my own little paradise. One that existed in the locality called Lyon on all the maps, but was completely separate.

Finally, after an indeterminate amount of time, I pulled myself away. Slowly I emerged – literally descended – from this gem of a garden, but the effects of that visit stayed with me for a long, long time. I even dreamed about it that night.

A Memory of a Moment

Even now I can just look at this picture and for a brief minute of time, I am back there. I can smell the warm green foliage, I can feel the kiss of the breeze that blew through, I can hear the muted silence of the world beyond.

France’s second city won my heart in many ways, but this garden holds a special place in there. This why we travel, to be wooed and won by moments and by places.  By gardens, by buildings, by vistas of stunning beauty and quiet spaces that let us turn off the chatter in our brains.