Today Anne-Marie didn’t work so Yves drove us all to Lyon, sixty kilometres away; a large and very busy city. We spent the first twenty minutes or so waiting for the sing of ‘complet’ (full) to disappear from the station parking area so that we could enter and find a spot. At last we were in and then began the hunt for the one spot that had been vacated. We needed to book our train tickets to Bayonne in advance because we are now at the height of the holiday season. Judging from the length of the queue in the booking office, everyone in France is travelling by train for their vacations. By the time we had organised our tickets (and had been shocked at the Euroland prices compared to travel in Turkey), it was time for lunch. Lunch here is not a grabbed sandwich leaning against the kitchen bench or a snack from a street vendor. We had a very enjoyable meal at a hotel where the buffet provided many options for us and where the aperitif was mauve and perfumed because it had eau de violets in it.
Lyon is an ancient city built between two rivers – the Rhône and the Saōne. Of course there is a modern extension to the old city and even more is being built at a great rate today. We passed the opera house with, its unusual and not so attractive domed roof, lots of sculptures, a mini Eiffel Tower, and old houses in neat rows, on our way to the Museum of Gallo-Roman Civilisation. This museum was purpose-built fairly recently and provides a fascinating and easy to follow walk through the beginning of the Roman settlements in Gaul to the latter days. The mosaics on display are complete and many statues and busts are in near perfect condition. Some of the finds have been made in recent times, which must make it very exciting to be a French archaeologist now. Chance, new technology for searching, the building boom and expansion of farmlands have all contributed to ancient remains being continually discovered. Many finds have been made in rivers where the fine silt has provided a layer of protection. My favourite exhibit was an enormous bronze hoarding, covered in Latin writing, which was the text of a speech made by the Emperor Claudius in the first century AD. It had simply been unearthed in four parts by a farmer ploughing a field.I learnt that the Romans allowed conquered peoples to continue worshipping their own gods, which was a sensible and pragmatic position for them to take. One Gallic god, called Secellus, refused to die, and he continued to represent the underworld and prosperity for a very long time. Gaul (France) was divided into 60 parts and the parts were represented in a kind of council. Like Yugoslavia, the boundary lines did not particularly follow the lines of ethnic or historical groupings, so I imagine that there would have been similar problems that Rome would have had to deal with or squash. Lyon was one of the major centres in Roman times, with roads leading out of it like the spokes of a wheel. ‘Family’ groupings, or households, did not consist of just a nuclear family with extended generations or relatives included. It was more likely to be a nuclear family with additional members, who were unattached males or females, but who were attached to this family by virtue of profession or role. For example, a master potter may have a couple of workers and apprentices as part of his household, and in addition some women to help with pottery, cooking or cleaning. In the Renaissance it was common for apprentices and servants to join a household at about nine years of age so, if this was the case in Roman times, it is easy to see how a family feeling for such a group would develop.
The ancient Roman theatre is right next door, and before we visited, we were able to see a model of what it would once have been like, with three storeys of pillared backdrop to the stage and a large area for the orchestra. This theatre was for dramas and comedies, so great attention was paid to its acoustics. It is still used, and sound tests for a concert were being done while we visited. Originally the seating was named for individuals and for representatives of the 60 sectors, but later additions in Hadrian’s era were labelled for members of different guilds, such as the Butchers’ Guild. It is funny to imagine Roman butchers, blood on their aprons and sawdust on their shoes, squabbling over who would get a seat at the latest comedy and then perhaps none of them turning up to claim tickets for a heavy drama.
The Basilica of Fourviere was consecrated in 1896 and is clean and new looking. To my eye, the exterior does not seem to have been completely thought through. There are blank faces on the curved walls at the sides of the front, ugly metal crosses on the top and too many statues and details in other places. Much more interesting is the beautiful three metre gilt virgin in her glass cage, where she waits to return to the top of the tower beside the basilica after it is renovated. Her captivity is to protect her from vandals and graffiti artists while keeping her at the site. The tower itself is still surrounded by scaffolding and discreet notices encourage donations to enable a speedy completion to the job. This virgin has the epitome of a mild and serene face, yet her expression is full of acceptance and love. Her outstretched arms seem to project resignation at the moment, but would certainly regain the aura of being all encompassing if she were to be freed.
The interior of the church is very ornate, but has none of the evening out patina of great age, nor the greater simplicity of antiquity. It looks a little as if an interior decorator was asked for advice and told them to combine turquoise, lemon, mustard and gold, and to stick to just that palette. “Oh, and don’t forget to add scrolls and curls everywhere, and when you think you have enough, double it.” Still, it is an impressive building, with an imposing altar and many beautiful individual details.
Our view from the terrace behind the Basilica was over the Saōne River, and about a five hundred metres beyond that, the Rhône could be glimpsed, running almost parallel. 
On our way home we passed a much older and simpler Church of St Jean, but did not have the chance to visit it. We also passed the prison where Yves had conducted interviews for his psychology course. As we left the toll road, we could see many cars parked with people standing near them. It is a common practice for people to car pool up to the toll road, to join a new car pool to a particular work site there and then to continue on, with many fewer tolls paid. Later they sometimes have to wait for their comrades to come back for the original car pool to reform to go home. The traffic was not too bad so we made good time to pick up Annelise. Chantelle and Jean-Pierre, and a friend of Annelise’s came over for a barbecue dinner, which Anne-Marie had prepared for before we went out. The meal and the company were excellent, and it was fascinating to observe discussions and opinions being exchanged on a range of subjects, some of which we could follow and others about which we had no idea. Chantelle explained the French ‘Communes’, whose flower displays in the centres and on the sides of roads, add a beautiful touch. As far as I could understand, each village has a mayor, with candidates for mayor presented as individuals in a list for smaller places, and at the head of a set list of names representing a political ideology in larger places. A commune is a larger entity, and brings together many of these smaller groupings. Some finance comes from taxes and it seems that some communes, or smaller groups, raise their own funds, although I don’t know how. We retired, tired after a big day and a most enjoyable evening.
No comments:
Post a Comment