Following what would be our last adventure in the great outdoors came the second largest city in France, Lyon. Lyon is known for its gastronomic glory, the capital of fine French cuisine. You might think that title would go to Paris, but Lyon is the place for oddities and classics alike. We spent one single day in Lyon because we were itching to get to Paris. But, we could have stayed longer with more time. This fantastic city, situated on the Rhone River, is large and small. It is easy to get lost in its quiet streets, discovering little nooks of history, or find yourself looking both ways (twice) to cross a busy, bustling street during rush hour. The restaurants and bouchons (restaurant style typical of the region that specialize in the parts of a cow that should only go into hotdogs) are endless. We wandered for the day seeing the main square, getting lost in side streets, going up a hillside by trolley car to see the views at the basilica and having a 'bouchon' lunch.

Lunch was delicious. Steve had looked up a fabulous corner restaurant/café that was bustling with locals. We were seated in the corner next to a giant wooden barrel surrounded by flying elbows and clinking silverware. The menu was written in chalk (and in small letters) on black boards around the room. We were in the bar section where it was a little noisier. We scrambled a bit to find what we should order and decided on a mish-mosh of things from the tapas menu. We ordered (they names were far more eloquent on the menu in French) a grilled ham and cheese sandwich, seasoned and sauce covered garbanzo beans, small mustard covered sausages and a pork dish with polenta. The table was full and looked like heaven. Steve chose the sausages and sandwich and I chose the other two. He seemed to be guessing at exactly what he was ordering and asked the waiter (who spoke English) if the "Andouillette" was indeed sausage. The waiter made a kindof…basically face and nodded. So he ordered it. Everything was delicious and we ate every last bite. We were brimming with full happiness when we paid and left. We explored some life-size murals (another Lyon thing) that are painted on building walls throughout the city and walked around aimlessly.

Later that day Steve asked how I enjoyed the intestine sausages and my stomach churned. I thought they had a unique texture! What a punk. He (of course) knew what he was ordering and probably thoroughly enjoyed watching me eat the little cow gut patties covered in seeded mustard. But, despite my desire to be sick, they were really good and I can now say I have eaten both raw meat and intestines in France. Yummy.