The charming old city of Annecy where Maurice’s Aunt and Uncle live.

It is always interesting to hear stories from the past and to learn things that made people who they are today. I don’t think there is too much of interest in my own family history unless you count the fact that I might be related to Helen Keller (my grandmother said she was a cousin) and Pocahantas–really!! The last time I was with Maurice while we visited some of his family, I enjoyed learning some of the things about Maurice that I didn’t know before. His Uncle, now in his 80’s and with a thing for the ladies (his last girl friend was younger than me) told us about the closing days of WWII where the Germans were retreating and shooting people as they left. Maurice’s uncle was shot in the streets of Nice by a German from just 4 feet away. He lay dying in the street and was saved, by all people, by a woman who was a member of the Gestapo. She took him to a hospital and he survived. He later testified in a trial what she had done for him and saved her from execution.

It’s hard to imagine all that went on in cities and villages of France as those horrible days drew to a close. The Resistance was killing people as well and anyone who had collaborated with the Germans during the occupation were killed or subjected to having their heads shaved, especially women. Uncle Rene spent two years in a hospital recovering from his injuries. He pulled out his x-rays and showed me the metal in both of his legs holding it all together. He still limps badly and uses two canes now to walk. He could make me laugh, even though I didn’t understand all of his French, with just his facial expressions, his hand movements and different sounds and whistles. He said that one day during his time in the hospital the patients were visited by girls from the Crazy Horse. They didn’t do the can can or wear topless outfits but did some entertaining while he, being 24 years of age, could only lie there and dream of all of the possibilities.

Maurice’s father, Uncle Rene’s brother, was killed in the war two months before Rene’s injuries. I asked Maurice what his father was like-what he had heard as he was growing up-and he really didn’t know. I imagine it was too painful to talk about for a long time. One releative did tell me that Maurice’s father loved to laugh. That’s a nice thing to know. I saw a photo of him on the bureau of Maurice’s Aunt. He is wearing his army hat at a rakish angle covering his wavy hair, and a leather jacket tied at the waist with a long leather belt. His mouth is just like Maurice’s, as is his nose. It was interesting to sit with Maurice and his Aunt and Uncle and see the same nose here, mouth there. One of Maurice’s sisters recently gave me photos of Maurice as a child. A closeup of his four year old face shows me the familiar facial resemblance to his grandchlildren.

 When the sun is out, so are Parisians. They must be starved for some time in the sun because the parks are packed and you can’t find a place to sit anywhere, especially at lunch time.

 The tulips are blooming.

 Who needs a swimming pool?

There is grass but no one is allowed to get on it.

Not an empty chair to be found.

Being a tourist is hard work.

 I have so many photos that I have to share them. Most, as is my wont, are of architecture. It just moves me.

Just an ordinary stairway made extraordinary with curving ceilings. Much of Lyon had an Italian feel to me. Lyon, by the way, is more ancient than Paris and was a much more important city during Roman times. Lyon is also second in size after Paris.

 Loved the color

A view from below of the Basilica

 Loved the color, the stone, the arch of this stairwell

 There is something special about lace curtains hanging in a window

Lyon

 What a surprise Lyon turned out to be. I had heard good things about it and all reports were correct. I loved everything that I saw. Because we ate at Maurice’s cousin’s home for dinner the night we were there, we missed out on trying some meals in a restaurant there-although we had a fabulous meal in any case. I was just a little disappointed that we didn’t have time to try something as Lyon is said to have the best food in France. We had such a huge meal with the French cousins that I wasn’t even hungry the next day and we ended up just having a sandwich on the day we left. Oh well, next time.

 There were many buildings with really great paintings covering the sides. This one has very famous people from Lyon.

 The St Jean Church had another huge wonderful clock similar to one I had seen before. This one also had an astrology section. As you can see it is the time of that most wonderful of astrology signs, Aries.

There was an extremely ornate Basillica on top of a Fourviere hill . Lyon, by the way, is very hilly. This church reminded me of Sacre Coeur in Paris and, in fact, was built during the same time. The decoration used was mosaic tile. This art is actually tile work and shows Christians using prayer and faith to defeat the Turks in a sea battle.

 A fabulous fountain in the square in front of the Hotel de Ville. I was disappointed that the scaffolding of the building behind was in place and was seen in almost every view. I learned that the French revolution really hit Lyon hard. Many important people were beheaded in this square of the fountain including many architects and artists and the population was so decimated and destroyed that it was years before Lyon recovered.

 A closeup of one of the horses. Can you see the steam coming out of its nose? I thought this was really cool.

 There were all sorts of courtyards to explore with very intricate architecture hidden away. This was in a very old section of Lyon near the St Jean church. There were also many covered passage ways between buildings in another part of Lyon used by the silk makers to carry wares about. Maurice and I started at the top of the hill and walked down going through some of them. The silk makers needed very high ceilings for their 11 foot high looms so there are tall rooms with windows for light every where.

A look at just one of the stairs, not for the faint of heart or legs, going up to the church on top of the hill. There was also a fununcular, thank heavens.

 Sometimes people ask me for recommendations of places to visit outside of Paris. I now add Lyon to the list. It was a fascinating and beautifully planned and preserved city. A must for any lover of France.

 I’m not a fan of grafitti on the whole but you do see some interesting work around Paris and get so you can identify the work of various artists. Some have become pop celebraties, invited to parties and some even having their art shown in galleries.

This guy, Nemo, is interesing in that he always has the same objects in his grafitti but they are always doing different things.

 This artist put one of his painting into the Nemo’s above adding the little boy

 Here’s a whole wall done by Nemo-always a black cat, a bluebird, a red balloon and an umbrella. It is a high building making me wonder if the artist carries a ladder around.

 This artist has his man do different things as well

 I recognize this guy around on the walls of Paris

 Here’s old Jef Aerosol again. I saw all of these, by the way, on the same day in the same area.

 There is always alot of activity going on in Paris gardens. There are usually all sorts of joggers, children being led on ponies and classes of various oriental arts.

 She was giving a demonstration of a dance and did a very nifty move with opening the fan with a crack. She sang a little song to go with it.

This man could sing the song and make the moves but the fan thing just didn’t happen with the same grace and he dropped it.

She wasn’t doing much-just standing there. There were pink blossoms on the tree behind her but they didn’t come out very well.

 Where’s Waldo?

This wasn’t in the gardens. Their arrangements there are much more formal and they haven’t really started yet, although I bet some tulips will be blooming before long. This was outside the garden on someone’s home.