Having said goodbye to the Cogedim, after work it was time to say goodbye to Lyon for a couple of weeks while I work from London and help with the clearing out of our New Malden home.

I drove to Troyes (pronounced like trois) and had a brief look round before dinner and bed. The centre of the town was nice.

Today I left the Cogedim after six months of living with some of Lyon’s finest senior citizens.

Christened Golden Oldies HQ by an erstwhile colleague, it’s been fun bumping into neighbours who want to know how tall I am or who tell us off for being too young to live here.

It’s been a lovely first home in Lyon – even if U Express deliveries were a bit noisy first thing most mornings.

And here’s the last list of activities that we could have gone to but didn’t.

I spent a large part of the long weekend taking stuff from our old apartment to our new one.

The only problem is the old place is looking a tad empty.

Found out a little bit about the new area too.

Ahh no. Centre de Réparation du septieme arrondisement. Siiiiiiiiiiiiuuuuuuu.

Today we took it a bit easier and went for a drive through Beaujolais country. We stopped at a market in Val d’Oingt before moving on to Oingt for lunch.

After lunch we admired some vineyards.

Then another stop in a pretty village called Charnay en Beaujolais where Lilly Wood and the Prick will be playing soon.

Before a siesta and one last meal.

I still can’t quite believe he made it but I think my dad enjoyed his first trip to Lyon.

I took advantage of having an extra pair of hands to help me move a chair from our old flat to our new one.

Things didn’t quite go to plan as having taking my father and a few things upstairs, Kate and I came down for the chair and as the front door closed behind me I realised I’d left the keys to the flat upstairs with my dad.

So my 92-year-old father was on his own on the fifth floor and we were outside on the pavement with the chair.

Our only hope was someone would come into the building and we could go back upstairs. But it is August in Lyon and a lot of buildings are empty.

So I decided to drive to the old flat and pick up a spare pair of keys – a round trip of about 20 mins. When I came back Kate had made herself comfortable.

No-one had entered the building so we raced upstairs to find that…….my dad hadn’t even noticed anything was wrong.

Today was the second day of my dad’s visit to Lyon and we had a lot to do. He seemed fresh after his first day’s exertions so we started off with a visit to Parc de la Tete d’Or.

Then it was up to La Croix Rousse to take in some murals.

Have some lunch (sitting behind a 96-year-old celebrating her birthday) – and then trabouler for a bit.

There was just time for a quick visit to Vieux Lyon – but by now the walking and heat had taken their toll.

So it was home for a well-earned siesta before dinner.

I went for the steak tartare prepared at your table. And the frozen nougat.

My French teacher told me to look out for swastikas in the mosaics on the floor left over from the Nazis’ occupation. We couldn’t see any – despite two trips to the toilet staring at the floor. But then suddenly…

That aside, it’s a fantastic restaurant.

*Update: Although the Nazis requisitioned the restaurant during the Occupation, the floor predates them so they are not Nazi swastikas. They must have loved them though.

I have often wondered when walking past a bottle recycling point in Lyon – you won’t get many bottles in there.

Today my mind was blown – aujourd’hui j’ai été époustouflé.

That’s how they hold so many bottles.