Croix rousse

Croix Rousse is another hilly area of Lyon near us that is touted for tourism.
We made our first exploration on Sunday after viewing the basilica, by descending the hill on foot and taking the metro next to the funicular. Although a short trip, this involved 3 changes of line, the third having the train winched up the hill on a middle ratchet. This part of the line boasted upholstered seats that should make Paris Opéra shrivel in shame.
Our guide notes were over the top with enthusiasm. I quote:
"The Croix-Rousse straddles the city’s 1st and 4th arrondissements and is divided up into two parts: the pentes (in the 1st arrondissement) and the plateau (4th arrondissement). The nearly 840-foot hill is closely associated with the early silk trade in Lyon as this was the place that canuts (silk workers) moved from the Vieux Lyon in the middle part of the nineteenth century.
"La Croix-Rousse is an enchanting part of the city where you can not only enjoy the ability to explore a variety of ruins, historical monuments, and gorgeous classical architecture, but also where you can indulge in fine French food and wine, and simply relax along the peaceful waterways and cobblestone streets. Taking a stroll through the charming quarter of Croix-Rousse is like taking a walk through the past. You will be enchanted by the easy going manner of the people, the breathtaking architecture, and the divine food and wine around every corner. Be sure to also check out the ruins in Croix-Rousse like the remains of the Amphitheatre of the Three Gauls and the Roman ruins."

We stepped out of metro into a large scale fun fair, with all manner of rides, hoopla stalls, and fairy floss. We walked to and fro bemused and found nothing remotely corresponding to the description. Finally we decided to have a lunch on traditional food sufficient to relieve us of the necessity for dinner. We picked the most likely looking café and sought to order the plat du jour, which was pedereau confit (partridge). Regrettably the supply of partridges was exhausted, so I ordered tête de veau (calf's head). Big mistake: I was ready for brains at least, but no, there was tongue and oceans of fat of various kinds to some of which hair could still be seen attached, and a small amount of other meat. I sampled a mouthful of fat but it was beyond me. Wendy kindly shared some of her sausage.

On the morrow, we felt we needed to go in search of the fabled items mentioned by our guide, so this time we started from the Hôtel de Ville, which is complemented in the square by a fountain with horses galloping off in all directions with a fair maid. We scrambled upwards in light but increasing drizzle through the traboules until we reached the summit. We still found no market, but it was Monday, and even the fair was closed. We noted the amphitheatre, and the buildings, but though our breath may have been taken it was due the rigours of the climb rather than wonders of architecture. We did find an unusual waterway however in the form of what appears to be a water bubbler for dogs, snapped by me in full gush.

The summit afforded a misty view of the city shrouded in fine rain, looking east from the old town.