The night before my departure, I decided to skip the dinner with several conference attendees in the city center, and to walk from my hotel toward the confluence of the Rhone and Saone rivers. Usually confluences are nice looking and practically important. Off the top of my head, I remember the beauty of the confluence at Harper’s Ferry, where the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers meet. Rhone is the second largest river that empties into the Mediterranean, and Shone is not a small river. I walked past a back street, and bumped into several white vans that parked on the roadside with dim-lit candles near the dashboards. At one point, I did not know where I should go. A woman from North Africa greeted me from a distance. She was nice enough to take a look at my map, but could not offer help. Before long, I turned left onto Pont Pasteur. Having reached the other side, I realized that it would not be easy to walk to the confluence. I was told that there was a mall, but I was uninterested, and also it should be closed by them. I was interested in the confluence literally, but looking at the map, I am sure if the place is convenient and accessible in the first place. Few people were on streets, so I decided to return, exhausted and disappointed. Sometimes failure itself is a good learning experience. Life is short, and I am unsure if I will have chance to visit Lyon, or France, for that matter. But walking on the bridge itself is memorable.
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