I don’t go on holiday very often so it seems a bit silly to start a post as though future ones may appear. Perhaps those who travel more than me could contribute? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

I’ve never been to France however what I saw has convinced me to return again at some point. I arrived mid-afternoon on Thursday to a barrage of rays and overwhelming heat. It certainly didn’t help that I was sporting my large winter coat (lots of pockets, helpful when faffing in airports). My sister met me close to where she lived and walked through the streets back to her apartment. It was a modest effort and one which was stifling considering the temperature. We didn’t stay long except to pick up the last remaining items she wished to ship back home.

There was an unmistakeable air of Europe about the place. How can someone say that if they’ve never been to France? I have been to Greece and Germany before so I can with some confidence say that it was definitely more European than Newcastle upon Tyne. The streets were relatively clean. The residents helpful and pleasant. My sister told me to keep an eye on my feet for the volume of dog shit that supposedly peppered the pavement yet I found very little.

And the women were zoomed in straight from the pages of Vogue or some other fancy magazine I’ve clearly never read but can make references to. They were uncommonly beautiful, graceful, barely looked in my direction the whole time I was there. My reasons for being in Lyon were hardly based around this premise anyway so it didn’t bother me too much that they paid more attention to plucking food from between their teeth than me. I’m surprised I didn’t walk into more lampposts though.

Most of the remainder of the first day was spent sitting and drinking. I had been travelling since 6:30 am anyway so it made sense not to rush anything. We stayed at my sister’s friend’s flat, which was much bigger than her own, for which we were both truly thankful. My first grievance was the kettle. Strange choice I know but for some reason it merely complicated the idea of heating water. Rather than just having an ‘on’ button which clicks off when it’s done it instead allowed you to heat your water to any temperature between 60 and 100 degrees. It also enjoyed taking longer than usual to perform its basic action and then, just as it was about to reach the temperature you were looking for, it seemed to dawdle, aware that you were desperate for a cup of coffee and revelling in the power it wielded over your sorry ass.

I should point out that I did and do not hate this kettle but it certainly needs to buck up its ‘chude to the common man.