Lyon – enriching experiences with a special family
‘A connection to language in the background’
n France, my adventure began in Lyonand specifically in the much-loved district Croix-Rousse.An artistic neighbourhood, situated on a hill, with stunning views over the city. I found myself staying with a loving family with three adopted children.
They were hard-working parents who did everything they could to give their children a good life. At the same time, they seemed to have their hands full. One of the children was transitioning, another was rebelling against the world in their own unique way, and the eldest had left for Paris to study. Meanwhile, one of the parents was struggling with a debilitating illness.
My French was still fairly limited at the time, sometimes quite a hindrance, but we usually managed to find a way. Gradually, I began to wonder:
'How much language is actually needed to feel welcome?'
Of course, it helps when words become increasingly accessible. But the foundation lay in the connection we shared without words. It was evident in small everyday moments, shared meals and a genuine interest in each other’s lives.
There was also room to make mistakes, to search for words and sometimes to use gestures to make myself understood.
That’s how we understood each other, and a close bond soon formed. I regularly went out with the father, we played in a tennis tournament at the local club, I was taken to their second home in Burgundy and introduced to family. For the French, who are often somewhat reserved in their private lives, that’s not something to be taken for granted.
Savoir-vivre
A highlight was undoubtedly Easter, when the whole family gathered at an estate in Burgundy. Long tables, sumptuous food, fine wine, speeches, pure enjoyment. Leave the organising of such Burgundian moments to the French – it really is an art in itself.
A teacher with taste
Meanwhile, during the day I attended classes at a language institute in the city. There I met, without a doubt, one of the best language teachers I have come across during my travels. He was enthusiastic, excellently prepared and constantly managed to link the language to everyday life.
French gastronomy, culture and politics regularly came to life in the lessons. As well as his work as a teacher, he was an accomplished cook at home. His restaurant recommendations proved to be worth their weight in gold. Our close-knit class group would always end up having lunch in the most extraordinary places. Thanks to him, we discovered various spots in Lyon that I would probably never have found otherwise. It made learning the language tangible. The lessons, as it were, continued in the city’s streets, cafés and restaurants.
The art of lunch
What also struck me was the place lunch occupies in daily life. Whereas in the Netherlands the afternoon is often organised primarily for efficiency, lunch in France seems to be allowed to be much more of a social occasion. Time for food, conversation and socialising. Even on a normal working day. I don’t get the impression that life there was any less hectic, but space was clearly made for social interaction.
I found Lyon itself to be a special city: lively but not chaotic, rich in history and a culinary powerhouse. The Rhône flowing through the city, and the Parc de la Tête d’Or – to this day one of the most beautiful parks I have ever visited.
I was able to experience why Lyon is called the gastronomic capital of France. The various restaurants across the city run by top chef Paul Bocuse, each with their own style, matching the charm of their respective neighbourhoods.
Impressive.
