Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Apartment weirdness
Apartments in Lyon don't appear to have numbers. So the best direction you can give is the floor. This makes sense for old buildings with only one apartment per floor, but fails somewhat spectacularly for newer ones. It's not clear what's up with this. I'm thinking of unilaterally giving my apartment a number, but I don't know if that would be extra-confusing.
Most buildings don't have intercoms, but, as a consolation, there's a "digicode," which is a keypad at the front door, which opens the door when given the right code. This enables you to tell friends, plumbers, future vengeful exes, etc., the code, so they can enter without you having to come down and let you in.
Most buildings don't have intercoms, but, as a consolation, there's a "digicode," which is a keypad at the front door, which opens the door when given the right code. This enables you to tell friends, plumbers, future vengeful exes, etc., the code, so they can enter without you having to come down and let you in.
best part of my day
is probably the commute, at least until I learn how to cook Lyonnaise food, which seems to be an almost ideal combination of butter, cream, and mustard. My commute goes through Le Parc de la Tête d'Or which combines the usual attributes of a park (walkways, grassy fields), with slightly less usual ones (a lake with several islands in it, a botanical garden), with even more unusual ones (a fairly open-plan zoo). Today, I entered the park and biked by the heavily-antlered deer, who were in a lounge-off with a number of people relaxing on the benches, separated by a moat. I think the deer were winning -- I've never seen them move. I then continued past the flamingoes and pelicans, monkeys fighting in the trees, three giraffes who appeared to be taking a shit simultaneously (I was on my bike, so I'm not sure, but I couldn't think of another reason for those splayed legs), and a few elephants. I need to start coming back before dark so I can get a double dose. Maybe once I've gotten internet installed.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Lyon -- first hits
Although it's become somewhat asymmetric with expansion to the west (where the university is), the ideological center of Lyon is the presqu'ile, which, as you might guess, is very close to an island. It's formed by the Rhône and the Saône, and, while the two rivers meet to the south, they tail away from each other above, hence the "presqu'." There is a plethora of bridges over the two rivers, most collinear, so that you can walk straight across the presqu'ile, and in a multitude of different styles, from nice old-looking ones to an elegant bridge supported by a single structure at one end with steel cables extending from it at intervals all the way to the other side, to a frankly not very beautiful bridge that looks as though it were built in the 60's.
Speaking of being built in the 60's, my campus is absolutely hideous. Most American campuses have some relic of that inglorious era, but this one is like that in every direction. When I first saw it, the grass was extremely overgrown and weedy, which I assumed was French energy-saving style, but it turned out to just be a summer thing, so it looks a little bit better now, and less like an abandoned industrial estate. The only bright spot is the quiet, efficient, and altogether endearing tram, which runs to right in front of my building. A pleasing feature I haven't seen before is train tracks laid into grass, which is necessarily kept nicely shorn.
My temporary housing, which ends September 24th, is in Vieux Lyon. My house is of undetermined age, so we'll just say, really, really old. I believe that it predates indoor plumbing, judging from the placement and internal piping of the half bathrooms, and probably also electricity as well. My ceilings are very high, and formed by massive wooden beams. My windows are enormous, but, due to the dark wood and the crowded buildings, the house is dark nearly all the time. I technically have a roommate, but apparently he rented this place because he was divorcing his wife. Shortly afterwards, he reconciled with her, and so he doesn't use it at all. I wish them the best.
Public transit in Lyon is great, with 4 subway lines, some trams, and a slew of buses, all part of the same system. The city is also quite compact, so no two places are more than a half-hour bike ride apart. At least, no two places you would "want to go." It's interesting hearing people in Europe try to say things about non-whites -- they know they should be tactful, but somehow they don't know how. It's like the Simpsons -- "I don't want you stalking anyone, Homer!" "Don't worry Marge. I'm just going . . . outside . . . to stalk . . . Lenny and Carl." I'm offended on behalf of undetermined ethnicities living in undetermined neighborhoods.
Speaking of being built in the 60's, my campus is absolutely hideous. Most American campuses have some relic of that inglorious era, but this one is like that in every direction. When I first saw it, the grass was extremely overgrown and weedy, which I assumed was French energy-saving style, but it turned out to just be a summer thing, so it looks a little bit better now, and less like an abandoned industrial estate. The only bright spot is the quiet, efficient, and altogether endearing tram, which runs to right in front of my building. A pleasing feature I haven't seen before is train tracks laid into grass, which is necessarily kept nicely shorn.
My temporary housing, which ends September 24th, is in Vieux Lyon. My house is of undetermined age, so we'll just say, really, really old. I believe that it predates indoor plumbing, judging from the placement and internal piping of the half bathrooms, and probably also electricity as well. My ceilings are very high, and formed by massive wooden beams. My windows are enormous, but, due to the dark wood and the crowded buildings, the house is dark nearly all the time. I technically have a roommate, but apparently he rented this place because he was divorcing his wife. Shortly afterwards, he reconciled with her, and so he doesn't use it at all. I wish them the best.
Public transit in Lyon is great, with 4 subway lines, some trams, and a slew of buses, all part of the same system. The city is also quite compact, so no two places are more than a half-hour bike ride apart. At least, no two places you would "want to go." It's interesting hearing people in Europe try to say things about non-whites -- they know they should be tactful, but somehow they don't know how. It's like the Simpsons -- "I don't want you stalking anyone, Homer!" "Don't worry Marge. I'm just going . . . outside . . . to stalk . . . Lenny and Carl." I'm offended on behalf of undetermined ethnicities living in undetermined neighborhoods.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Velo'v -- post only for the practically bike-minded
Lyon has a highly successful bike sharing program. They really are everywhere, and a lot of people use them as their primary mode of transportation. They're basically free -- 10 euros for a year's membership, with 5 of that going towards ride credit. Since rides under half an hour are free anyway, and you can make one-way trips, you probably won't need much ride credit. Of course, the year's membership requires the usual hoops the French make you jump through for any card -- proof of residence, etc., mailed to some address. However, assuming you have a French credit card (more on that later), they're easy to rent in the short term too -- 1 euro gets you a week-long membership.
The bikes themselves are a bit strange -- extremely heavy (I've heard 50 pounds), with what looks like a dashboard mounted on the handlebars, which, I assume houses whatever computing power is necessary, and also makes it hard to steal the front part of the bike. There are three gears, although that's not a guarantee, and lights that appear to be pedal-powered, and go on only at night, but I've seen exceptions to that.
It's generally good practice to check out the bike you're about to take, since the odds are about 1 in 5 that there is something wrong with it. Those odds go up markedly the fewer bikes there are at your station. This is less an issue with maintenance, though, and more a reflection of desperation caused by commuting -- since the bikes can be used for one-way trips, some stations will be emptied out in the morning, save for the defectives. However, it turns out that the full stations are actually a bigger problem. Because you have not returned the bike until it has been put in a slot at a station, and the stations have limited slots, you can find yourself in big trouble. I had to bike for around 2 miles once before I found a station with open slots, although I'm sure my geographical ignorance played a role, since when you're at a full station, you can use your card at the machine, and it will tell you what are the nearest stations with free spots (although not how to get to them).
The short-term (and long-term) memberships give you a card, which you touch to a kiosk to start the process. You have to enter a PIN on the extremely finicky touch-screen (one station's touch-screen had cracked glass for a few days, which made it impossible to check bikes out, although bikes could be left there), and then you choose a bike. After a 30 second pause, you can remove the bike from its post, and you're off. To return the bike, you just slide it into the slot, where it makes a satisfying clicking noise, and then a beep, for good measure. If you then use your card at the kiosk, you will be asked if you want a receipt, or if something was wrong with that bike. If you say the latter, you can check out another bike.
The bikes themselves are a bit strange -- extremely heavy (I've heard 50 pounds), with what looks like a dashboard mounted on the handlebars, which, I assume houses whatever computing power is necessary, and also makes it hard to steal the front part of the bike. There are three gears, although that's not a guarantee, and lights that appear to be pedal-powered, and go on only at night, but I've seen exceptions to that.
It's generally good practice to check out the bike you're about to take, since the odds are about 1 in 5 that there is something wrong with it. Those odds go up markedly the fewer bikes there are at your station. This is less an issue with maintenance, though, and more a reflection of desperation caused by commuting -- since the bikes can be used for one-way trips, some stations will be emptied out in the morning, save for the defectives. However, it turns out that the full stations are actually a bigger problem. Because you have not returned the bike until it has been put in a slot at a station, and the stations have limited slots, you can find yourself in big trouble. I had to bike for around 2 miles once before I found a station with open slots, although I'm sure my geographical ignorance played a role, since when you're at a full station, you can use your card at the machine, and it will tell you what are the nearest stations with free spots (although not how to get to them).
The short-term (and long-term) memberships give you a card, which you touch to a kiosk to start the process. You have to enter a PIN on the extremely finicky touch-screen (one station's touch-screen had cracked glass for a few days, which made it impossible to check bikes out, although bikes could be left there), and then you choose a bike. After a 30 second pause, you can remove the bike from its post, and you're off. To return the bike, you just slide it into the slot, where it makes a satisfying clicking noise, and then a beep, for good measure. If you then use your card at the kiosk, you will be asked if you want a receipt, or if something was wrong with that bike. If you say the latter, you can check out another bike.
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