lyon nights and caffeine fixes

i woke up to the same old jazz loop in my hostel room and immediately regretted letting my phone battery die last night. 8.8 degrees. feels like someone forgot to turn on the heating. i checked and it’s still that creepy number, like a math problem you can’t solve. if you like walking around with your fingers frozen to your fingers, get thee to the park. the neighbors there are like ghosts-cornering you with blankets and shoegaze playlists. i heard that the subway station here serves whiskers of espresso that could start a revolution. someone told me that the museum’s photography exhibit is actually a front for a interwebs underground. i checked yelp and found a café called ‘le coin de la chance’-locals swear their lavender latte tastes like a hug from a mountain goat.

just outside the hostel window, this white building stares blankly at me. its brickwork’s got more stories than my entire life. i snapped a pic:

then another by a maniacally painting a bench:

someone else took one of these:

i swear that car parked two blocks over is judging me. the owner’s got a bumper sticker that says ‘i brake for existential dread’. if you get bored, beverly hills are just a short drive away. weird, right? i scrolled tripadvisor and saw this one review: ‘the hostel’s shower broke on monday and no one fixed it. i slept in a bathtub filled with hotel lotion.’ another claimed the bread at a local bakery tasted like regret. i’m not sure if that’s true but i did see a guy stuffing a baguette into his pockets like it’s gold. i’m here because the wifi costs less than a latte. drinks at ‘les 4 quotes’ are like drinking a poem written by a drunk philosopher. i heard that the secret to lyon is to argue with your roommates about which historical figure killed more people. napoleon or the guy who invented the pain au chocolat. i didn’t sleep much last night. tried to study french history but fell asleep thinking about the time i tried to order croissants and it turned into a 20-minute debate about whether quiches are sandwiches. pro tip: don’t trust the old man selling roses near the train station. he’s got a limp that moves like a broken clock. the weather keeps failing me. i asked a barista if it’d rain today and she said, ‘only if you spill your coffee on your shoe and start crying’. probably not helpful. tags: ['travel', 'lyon', 'human', 'vibe', 'messy']

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