Fête des Lumières

It seems like I barely got the first part of my Lyon journey posted before I was back there again for the Festival of Lights this past weekend.  Dating back to the Middle Ages, it is a celebration of light at the darkest time of the year.  Today, of course, it is much assisted by the twin marvels of electricity and electronics.  Lasting only three days from 8:00 pm to midnight, it draws enormous crowds from all over France and Europe.  Vieux Lyon and the Presqu'île are decked out in colored lights and there are light shows at various places around the two districts.

But these are light shows the likes of which I don't think I've ever seen before.  My sentimental favorite was an installation called Vol de Nuit (Night Flight), based on one of St-Exupéry's novels about a fledgling airmail service in Latin America in the early thirties.  (It was also a wonderful 1933 movie of the same name with Clark Gable, John and Lionel Barrymore, Helen Hayes and Myrna Loy -- for the old movie buffs among you.)  Well, imagine, there's this little plane looking as though it had been carved out of balsa wood and painted gray sitting on a long stretch of grass, for all the world like it was about to take off.  When the lights came on and one could hear an engine revving over the sound system, it

looked like the first photo above.  Then the lights created the effect of air streaming from the engines and the whine of the motors increased and it really seemed to be in flight.  My subsequent pictures aren't very good, but as it moved along the kind of terrain over which it flew was projected on the side of the plane -- here a fox in a forest -- and eventually there were only stars and planets along the side of the plane.

Night Flight

Light Show at Cathedral St-Jean

The facade of the Cathedral St-Jean had a major makeover.  Lights projected across the front seemed to make the stones explode in air and re-form in remarkable ways.  And there was a series of little bulbs in two bushes that mimicked someone kicking a football and a goalie making the save.  There was a dinosaur and across one of the bridges a fantastical boat of lights with the oars (all lights) sweeping the water as if there were really oarsmen rowing.  

It was simply impossible in one night to see all of the light shows.  But there were other delights as well -- for example, vendors selling mulled wine and various pastry treats all along the way.   There was in the end only so much walking this old body could do, however.  So, my friend and I repaired to a lovely cafe where I had a White Russian cocktail (I used to drink those at the Russian Tearoom in New York) and some little chocolate pastries.  All yummy.

18th century textile from Lyonnais loom

The next day, before returning to Paris, we visited the Textile Museum (Musée des Tissus), which I remembered so fondly from my visit with Lloyd 25 years ago.   The examples of silk produced on those little wooden looms are knockouts.  Here are a few.

One other note about Christmas in France -- the French can't decorate a Christmas tree for the life of them.  All the good ones are in English or American stores.  And, even though there are any number of beautiful French Christmas carols, it feels strange, though certainly welcoming, to hear Bing Crosby or Perry Como crooning Christmas ballads as you walk through the Christmas markets.  As the French would say, c'est la vie!