The View from Lyon
Is St. Christopher aiding our travels?
Technical difficulties prevented me from uploading the full Morning Journal audio to my Alexa flash briefing feed today. Here it is, grace å Substack:
Squirrel sighted at Gare de Nice Ville
When Darlene, Deb, and I travel we have an agreement that whenever one of us is afraid, the other two stop everything and listen. The code word for this trip to France is Squirrel.
On Saturday at the Nice train station, I grew increasingly anxious when our printed tickets for the TGV train to Lyon would not work in the turnstiles leading to the tracks. As departure time approached, my fellow travelers hovered with suggestions.
“Squirrel!” I barked. “I need space to figure this out.”
Their immediate response settled me, and Darlene turned out to have the solution. We followed other travelers in a surge through the wide turnstile for people with handicaps, et voila: We took our seats on the train with plenty of time. And when the conductor scanned our printed tickets, they worked just fine.
For a train buff like myself, four hours of riding the TGV (Train à Grande Vitesse) from Nice to Lyon is like two versions of heaven.
The first is the stretch to Marseille along the Côte d’Azur. It offers views of the Mediterranean and thin beaches next to the track and tunnels just wide enough for the train to slip through. The train’s average speed is about 50 miles per hour.
From Marseille north, the track rests in a deep, wide ditch of earth. The TGV lives up to its name, zooming along the rural countryside at up to 200 miles per hour.
I wondered how possible it would be to build a high-speed track along the East Coast of the US, if that much space is required. Los Angeles to Las Vegas, maybe. But Boston to DC? Difficult to imagine.
Here in Nice, we are enjoying a two-story Airbnb apartment next to the Rhône River.
Yesterday we explored the Ancient Theatre of Fourvière in the old city. It dates back to 15 BC and was active as a setting for Roman theater and other events until the 4th century.
While Deb and Darlene listened to audio on an iPhone in the adjacent museum, I tried an interactive tour via ChatGPT. The theatre seats 10,000 people, and I was able to sit in a spot near the stage.
I began by asking what sort of plays might have been performed. Chat responded:
Sitting in the Ancient Theatre of Fourvière, you’re in a place steeped in history! About two thousand years ago, this theater would have been a vibrant hub of Roman culture. A play that might have been performed here during that time could be a work by **Plautus** or **Terence**, who were popular Roman playwrights.
For instance, a comedy like Plautus’s *"Pseudolus"* might have been staged. *Pseudolus* is a lively comedy full of clever slaves, mistaken identities, and trickery—a genre that the Romans loved. The play’s plot revolves around Pseudolus, a slave who concocts an elaborate scheme to help his young master win the affections of a courtesan, all while deceiving the girl's owner and securing his own freedom.
The audience would have enjoyed the humor, the sharp social commentary, and the energetic performances, much like modern theater-goers do today. The actors, all male, would wear masks to depict different characters, and the staging would be simple but effective, relying heavily on the actors' performances and the audience's imagination.
Imagine the sound of laughter echoing through the ancient stones as you sit there—it’s like stepping back in time!
This led me to wonder about slavery in the Roman Empire, and whether slaves would have been in the audience for a comedy like “Pseudolus.” Yes, Chat said. Slaves often accompanied their masters to events and could also attend on their own during certain festivals or holidays.
Between ChatGPT on my iPhone and my AI Pin, I feel powerfully supported by technology on this trip compared with our experience when we were last in France 20 years ago.
It’s almost like having St. Christopher, the patron saint of travelers, carry me across a river.
No need to yell “Squirrel!”