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About Lyon

Ruh-roh! Picture this—I’m sniffin round, tail waggin, tryna scope it out. “The river flows beneath us,” I mutter, quotin Malick, feelin deep n shit. But then—BAM!—some sketchy dude’s like, “Yo, you lookin?” Pissed me off, man! I ain’t no shady pup! Scooby-Doo don’t roll like that, ya dig?

A little tour of the market to get your taste buds going…

Then, outta nowhere, I get a call about a parrot. Yes, a parrot! This lady on Rue de la Liberté says her bird, Polly, won’t stop squawking. I get there, and this parrot is just going off. I mean, it’s like a mini rock concert in her living room. Turns out, she just wanted some attention. I’m like, “Polly, you’re not a dog. Chill out!” But the lady is laughing, and I can’t help but join in.

'With Marine, we feel we exist': In rural Normandy, Le Pen voters are disillusioned by Macron's victory