A Return to the Map: Landing in Lyon

A Long-Awaited Move

My life is going through a momentous transition because I moved to Lyon. Years before I met my husband, I used to explore the world’s maps until my gaze finally narrowed in on France — and then narrowed further still to its gastronomic capital of Lyon.

What drew me there? The surrounding hills, the two rivers of the Rhône and the Saône, the colorful Renaissance buildings, and of course, the food culture.

Life in San Francisco

We continued our lives together in San Francisco — he working in his restaurant, and I across the bridge at a cultural exchange company, while also involving myself in the behind-the-scenes work for the restaurant. After sixteen years of both of us working the same jobs, we packed our bags — together with our then 14-year-old daughter — and set off not for Lyon, but for Ardèche, to be closer to his mother and many of his lifelong friends. If you’ve followed my blog, you already know a bit of this story.

Beauty and Isolation in the Countryside

Life in the countryside has had its share of magic — like the time a hot air balloon seemed poised to land on our neighbor’s land, or every spring when kestrels build their home in the stone wall of our terrace and the babies finally fledge in June. But, as the saying goes, the only sure thing in life is change.

The French countryside is breathtaking, but I won’t pretend — it hasn’t always been easy. Our home for the past two years isn’t even in a village; it’s perched atop a hill with an incredible view… but nowhere to walk to, except into nature.

I grew up hiking and camping for weeks at a time in the Sierra mountains, so the natural environment is familiar to me — but I also grew up going to museums in San Francisco, and later loved hanging out in cafés, browsing bookshops and art galleries, or just being part of a neighborhood. I miss the walkability, the casual familiarity of a place where you can become a regular.

The Language Barrier

Living in a rural area has also made it harder to adjust as a foreigner. My French falls somewhere between A2 and B1. I can understand quite a bit and hold a conversation, even on the phone, but it’s still not easy. My husband has never spoken French with me, and without a local community to engage with, it’s been tough to improve.

I’ve reached out to local classes — even something as simple as yoga — but never heard back. Crickets. People are certainly kind, but kindness doesn’t always translate into connection, and forming real friendships has proven elusive. Even getting myself to a class would’ve been a challenge, given the lack of transportation.

Thinking of Our Daughter

It’s also been difficult for our daughter. She’s used to growing up in San Francisco, where she could walk to cafés, the movie theater, parks. She made friends in Lyon who she hadn’t been able to see regularly, which had been hard. They’re eager to spend more time with her and she’s already been seeing them almost every other day since we moved less than a week ago.

The Leap to Lyon

When the opportunity came up for our daughter to attend an inspiring European program in Lyon, my husband and I knew it was the right step to take. The program comes highly recommended, and she would, of course, need to live nearby.

Since she’s a minor, I said I’d be the one to go with her — not a huge sacrifice, I’ll admit! The house is only an hour away, and I still return “home” to spend time with my wonderful husband and our two sociable cats.

A Chance to Reconnect

Feeling hopeful about regaining a sense of daily life, I joined a few Facebook groups focused on the neighborhood we’ll be living in. The response has been amazing — from both fellow expats and French locals. I think that’s the gift of being in a more cosmopolitan environment.

It’s a wonderful feeling to be welcomed, and I’m truly looking forward to making new friends and becoming part of a community again.

I’ve learned that loving a place doesn’t always mean it’s the right fit forever. Sometimes we have to follow what brings life back into focus — for our kids, for ourselves, and for the version of us that’s still evolving.