And… exhale.
Back home, in the living room, in my comfy chair, watching the sunrise. It’s good to be back home – really. Five weeks, 12 beds, six planes, 1 boat, four bikes, and countless trains. Creating that balance between needing to see it all and having the space to digest it, and the coherence to enjoy it. We paced ourselves well for a trip of this length, but it’s still quite a push. It’s good to be home to recuperate.
An thus amazing adventure ends, and now the integration begins. I feel much wisdom percolating through my system – but it is still disorganized, scattered. As I tell the story of our trip, it will congeal. As I spend the next few weeks writing my report for my sponsor, it will take more shape. But it may take years to fully wrap my head around the experiences and lessons of this trip.
A few things are obvious off the bat. First, that Europe is full of amazing cities, where regular people live with an incredibly high quality of life. Yes, they may have less materially on average. But that material wealth comes at a cost – of course, environmental, but also the attachment we place on things that can distract us from life. I am as susceptible to this as anyone – it’s the natural inclination of the mind to want more and more. But, personally, I don’t want to be materially rich at the expense of being spiritually rich. Instead of chasing things, I want to live well now. And part of my own wellbeing is seeing that those around me are taken care of as well. Which we just don’t do well as a society here. We saw more homeless, hurting people on the two block walks from BART to our house than we did in all of Europe. We might have a higher average wealth, but our standard deviation is much greater as well. In Europe, there is a social contract that sets limitations on some people, but in turn creates an amazing support system which benefits the great majority – imagine excellent, free education for your kids without having to move to the suburbs, imagine never worrying about your health care coverage, imagine approaching retirement knowing you’re well taken care of. At all stage of life, there is provision, such that you need not live scared. Being scared serves the employers, the politicians, and those that exploit your fears to their end. Fuck them. They are holding us down from experiencing a truly richer life. And to what end – I wouldn’t say I’ve seen a lot of happy CEOs and politicians, either.
The next observation is that cities are getting better. After half a century of neglect and decline, the last 20 years have seen a reinvigoration of cities everywhere. I need to understand this more – my initial guess is it’s a return of the suburban kids to the cities. Whatever the reason, the same thing I’ve been witnessing in the US is occurring throughout Europe as well. Everyone I talked to was optimistic about their cities, investing in their cities, and happy with the quality-of-life changes that had been made in recent years. There’s just more good people doing more creative things. This manifests in the arts, the intersection of arts and commerce (i.e., restaurants, fashion), transportation (especially the bicycle movement that keeps growing), ecological awareness and innovation, and in how we design our cities at the ground level to serve people, rather than from the sky where the plans look pretty. Even during the difficult economic times of the last few years (and possibly moreso), improvements have been made. Let’s hope the tipping point has been reached, that the momentum keeps improving civilizations, and that cities can keep learning from each other (especially if that involves paid trips to understand what’s going on).
My final quick observation is that I work in a great profession. Every planner I met on this trip was savvy, smart, and heart-oriented in their work. There is a kinship across this field of good people doing good things. It made me proud and honored to be part of such a profession.
And with that, I return to work. Beyond the thousand emails waiting for me, I so look forward to integrating what I’ve learned into the wellbeing of San Francisco. It’s not clear to me how or where exactly it will happen – but in anything I’m involved in, the wisdom of this adventure will be there with me.
As such, this will likely be the last blog entry (until Abbie finds the time to post more pictures, and we may find a better venue for that). Thanks for coming along, I hope you enjoyed, and please send me any comments or feedback you have on what I’ve shared.
Love-
Steve
In Love
Photo by Jennifer Graham Photography
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
What We're Looking Forward To
It's been a glorious, glorious five weeks. But there are some things we've been missing. Here's a quick look at some of those things we're gonna enjoy for reals starting on Monday:
Steve: cereal
Abbie: our bed
Steve: playing drums
Abbie: cooking
Steve: having more time for my spiritual practices
Abbie: eating Mexican food
Steve: seeing my friends
Abbie: not having to watch Steve write a blog
Abbie: starting lots of art projects based on inspirations from this trip
Steve: dropping by drinking habit
Abbie: showing off all the fresh fashion I acquired in Europe
Steve: sleep
Steve: enjoying my new belly
Abbie: not having to pack up every couple of days
Steve: cereal
Abbie: our bed
Steve: playing drums
Abbie: cooking
Steve: having more time for my spiritual practices
Abbie: eating Mexican food
Steve: seeing my friends
Abbie: not having to watch Steve write a blog
Abbie: starting lots of art projects based on inspirations from this trip
Steve: dropping by drinking habit
Abbie: showing off all the fresh fashion I acquired in Europe
Steve: sleep
Steve: enjoying my new belly
Abbie: not having to pack up every couple of days
Copenhagen
It’s our last night in Copenhagen. We’re in the midst of the biggest thunderstorm they can remember. We just got soaked running back from the train station. Which is appropriate, as we’ve gotten soaked in every city thus far, but so far all I’d gotten here was a tan. We’re hoping it lets up enough to run out and eat some Italian food. Since that’s what we’ve had every night here (I mean, if your local cuisine is eh, why not just adopt the best in the world). Otherwise, room service herring it is.
Copenhagen is a delightful city. For some reason, I can’t just can’t get that pumped up about it right now. And when I say for some reason, I mean the reason is that since the last time I was here (2004) I’ve built this image of Copenhagen as a car-free, totality egalitarian, creative city populated only by supermodels (yes, I had a very nice trip here last time). But it’s only 90% true. It’s the funny thing about expectations – they take some place outrageously lovely and make it somehow a bit disappointing.
Yes, of course, everyone has free healthcare, free education through university, guaranteed housing, and a host of other amenities. Of course the train runs every two minutes, the bus every five, and every major street has separated bike lanes next to the sidewalk, away from the moving and the parked cars. Yes, of course Danes are exceedingly sweet, funny, beautiful, and hospitable. And the buildings are those beloved five-stories, colorful, and in the downtown, often ornate. OK, just writing this I’m talking myself back into the city. I gotta admit – we’ve been living so large this last month that I also take many beautiful things for granted, which is never a good idea, because you never know when such a glorious run will end. Or you do, because your plane leaves tomorrow.
This isn’t intended to be the trip recap piece, so let’s get back to Copenhagen. My take is that it’s a city with an uncertain future. Copenhagen is a relatively small city (500,000) in a relatively small region (1.5 million) in a damn small country (5 million). Denmark has not historically handled immigration well, and so it’s unclear how much demand for growth there will be – which is particularly relevant because the City has plans for some quite beautiful new neighborhoods that will not materialize as such there is demand. It’s also not clear what the city’s economic trajectory is – none of the planners seemed to have a firm grasp on it (compared to places like Lyon, where the economic strategists informed the planners). While I firmly believe an economy can thrive without steering, I’ve seen every city identifying how best to integrate with the global economy that I’m concerned that such a small outpost such as Copenhagen will get passed by without being more strategic.
And so I complete my last city report. Tomorrow to London, and Monday back to San Francisco. We’ll share more – Abbie has 2,096 pictures thus far. And we’ll see y’all soon.
Copenhagen is a delightful city. For some reason, I can’t just can’t get that pumped up about it right now. And when I say for some reason, I mean the reason is that since the last time I was here (2004) I’ve built this image of Copenhagen as a car-free, totality egalitarian, creative city populated only by supermodels (yes, I had a very nice trip here last time). But it’s only 90% true. It’s the funny thing about expectations – they take some place outrageously lovely and make it somehow a bit disappointing.
Yes, of course, everyone has free healthcare, free education through university, guaranteed housing, and a host of other amenities. Of course the train runs every two minutes, the bus every five, and every major street has separated bike lanes next to the sidewalk, away from the moving and the parked cars. Yes, of course Danes are exceedingly sweet, funny, beautiful, and hospitable. And the buildings are those beloved five-stories, colorful, and in the downtown, often ornate. OK, just writing this I’m talking myself back into the city. I gotta admit – we’ve been living so large this last month that I also take many beautiful things for granted, which is never a good idea, because you never know when such a glorious run will end. Or you do, because your plane leaves tomorrow.
This isn’t intended to be the trip recap piece, so let’s get back to Copenhagen. My take is that it’s a city with an uncertain future. Copenhagen is a relatively small city (500,000) in a relatively small region (1.5 million) in a damn small country (5 million). Denmark has not historically handled immigration well, and so it’s unclear how much demand for growth there will be – which is particularly relevant because the City has plans for some quite beautiful new neighborhoods that will not materialize as such there is demand. It’s also not clear what the city’s economic trajectory is – none of the planners seemed to have a firm grasp on it (compared to places like Lyon, where the economic strategists informed the planners). While I firmly believe an economy can thrive without steering, I’ve seen every city identifying how best to integrate with the global economy that I’m concerned that such a small outpost such as Copenhagen will get passed by without being more strategic.
And so I complete my last city report. Tomorrow to London, and Monday back to San Francisco. We’ll share more – Abbie has 2,096 pictures thus far. And we’ll see y’all soon.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Amsterdam. Amsterdam!
Amsterdam. Amsterdam! This is a city that knows it’s great. And owns it. Let’s not talk about the traditional cuisine. Or the weather. Or the fact that the “Golden Age” ended in 1685. This is a city of the future. And not that Jetson’sy city-in-the-sky future, either. The good, human-oriented future composed of tolerance, opportunity, mobility, carbon-neutrality, creativity, and aesthetic beauty.
Amsterdam. Amsterdam! Where the bicycle reigns supreme. I just love bicycles. It’s such a joyous way to move. The fresh air, the freedom of movement, the spontaneity, the more humane speed, the ability to interact with everyone in your environment, the instantaneous parking. It makes you want to sing. You almost have to ask what’s not to like? How about the inability to efficiently cover large distances, the danger posed by cars, the difficulty carrying stuff, and exposure to the elements. But what if everything is closer together (thanks, ancestors), cars are not welcome (thanks, strict parking policies and tariffs and whatnot), there are ingenious ways to carry goods and kids (the toddler bike seats have a little head rest for the nodding-off child), and amazing advancements in poncho technology (or just holding an umbrella while you ride). It’s flat, twisty, narrow, dense, and egalitarian – perfect for bikes. Perfect for us. We biked everywhere. All week. Kris-krossing town like the miggedymacs we are, getting all kinds of lost, seeing the whole magical city. It makes such a profound impression – worth a trip here just by itself.
Amsterdam. Amsterdam! Where people talk Dutch, which is my favorite language. It has the same music as English (as opposed to the staccato of Italian and the smoothly sanded French). Many of the words are pronounced the same. Sometimes you’ll be seven words into a sentence before you realize that someone’s speaking Dutch. But then they’ll launch a spray of achs and chuchs that knock you into the ever-present canals (consider that the sound above is not “ch” as in latch or cheese, but “ch” as in “oh my god I’m clearing the world’s biggest loogie from way deep in the back of my throat”. And it happens five times every sentence. Which, in little kids, is totally amazing, because they’ll be speaking in sweet trebly tones, and then rip off the chuchiest chuch to sound like the oldest gerspatzenwiesel in town (gerspatzenwiesel itself being a made up word (by me) whose meaning you get even if you’ve never heard of the word, which pretty much sums up how Dutch sounds, and maybe even how the Dutch speak to each other)). So you’re on the street, and you keep thinking you hear English, but then you see it written, and it’s completely alien and unpronounceable, because it is full of gratuitous ijks and euws and, like German, theystringwordstogetherwithrecklessabandon. And then add a “gracht” or a “straat” to the end of that, and you get the street names, which you can never remember because you are exhausted by the time you get to the third syllable (out of 12). Plus, the city curves in upon itself at all points like a fractal. No really, if you’ve never been here, it’s impossible to navigate until a route has been memorized. So you can see why every trip requires an extra 10 minutes if it requires more than one change of direction. Sober.
Amsterdam. Amsterdam! Where the whole center city is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but there’s demand for growth, and desire to keep housing affordable. So they take old industrial areas and make beautiful new residential areas – converting old buildings, adding new buildings around and on top of the old. Or they build new land. (Seriously. They just make islands in their bay, and build housing on it. It’s at first ridiculous, and then genius, and then you realize that that’s how the whole country was made. The iconic windmill was all about pumping water up and away to create dry land). As a rule, the housing is well-designed, dense, served by transit and separated bike lanes. Really impressive architecture – it helps that you can’t build without the approval of a team of architects who review your design. And the housing is affordable, not just because the demand approximates the supply, but because the City owns the land, and can decide the kind of development they’d like. Can I restate that last sentence, because I’ve never seen anything else like this in the world – the City owns the land. They lease it out for 50 or 100-year leases, so people will invest. But it’s the City’s call on what gets done. If you don’t trust government, this is a nightmare. But if you trust the government to support other values in a society because greed – well, this can be a really powerful thing. They’ve been doing it for 100 years here, and it’s working. Quite well.
Like Torino and Lyon, I’m sad to leave Amsterdam. But I know I’ll be back. We’ve got great friends here (special thanks to Josh and his beautiful family for helping curate such an amazing week). This was my fifth trip over a 20-year span, and it keeps growing in esteem and wonder. It’s got the filthiest, raunchiest neighborhood you’ve ever seen. But you never need to go in there – and if you don’t, the rest of the city unfolds her secrets for free.
Amsterdam. Amsterdam! Where the bicycle reigns supreme. I just love bicycles. It’s such a joyous way to move. The fresh air, the freedom of movement, the spontaneity, the more humane speed, the ability to interact with everyone in your environment, the instantaneous parking. It makes you want to sing. You almost have to ask what’s not to like? How about the inability to efficiently cover large distances, the danger posed by cars, the difficulty carrying stuff, and exposure to the elements. But what if everything is closer together (thanks, ancestors), cars are not welcome (thanks, strict parking policies and tariffs and whatnot), there are ingenious ways to carry goods and kids (the toddler bike seats have a little head rest for the nodding-off child), and amazing advancements in poncho technology (or just holding an umbrella while you ride). It’s flat, twisty, narrow, dense, and egalitarian – perfect for bikes. Perfect for us. We biked everywhere. All week. Kris-krossing town like the miggedymacs we are, getting all kinds of lost, seeing the whole magical city. It makes such a profound impression – worth a trip here just by itself.
Amsterdam. Amsterdam! Where people talk Dutch, which is my favorite language. It has the same music as English (as opposed to the staccato of Italian and the smoothly sanded French). Many of the words are pronounced the same. Sometimes you’ll be seven words into a sentence before you realize that someone’s speaking Dutch. But then they’ll launch a spray of achs and chuchs that knock you into the ever-present canals (consider that the sound above is not “ch” as in latch or cheese, but “ch” as in “oh my god I’m clearing the world’s biggest loogie from way deep in the back of my throat”. And it happens five times every sentence. Which, in little kids, is totally amazing, because they’ll be speaking in sweet trebly tones, and then rip off the chuchiest chuch to sound like the oldest gerspatzenwiesel in town (gerspatzenwiesel itself being a made up word (by me) whose meaning you get even if you’ve never heard of the word, which pretty much sums up how Dutch sounds, and maybe even how the Dutch speak to each other)). So you’re on the street, and you keep thinking you hear English, but then you see it written, and it’s completely alien and unpronounceable, because it is full of gratuitous ijks and euws and, like German, theystringwordstogetherwithrecklessabandon. And then add a “gracht” or a “straat” to the end of that, and you get the street names, which you can never remember because you are exhausted by the time you get to the third syllable (out of 12). Plus, the city curves in upon itself at all points like a fractal. No really, if you’ve never been here, it’s impossible to navigate until a route has been memorized. So you can see why every trip requires an extra 10 minutes if it requires more than one change of direction. Sober.
Amsterdam. Amsterdam! Where the whole center city is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but there’s demand for growth, and desire to keep housing affordable. So they take old industrial areas and make beautiful new residential areas – converting old buildings, adding new buildings around and on top of the old. Or they build new land. (Seriously. They just make islands in their bay, and build housing on it. It’s at first ridiculous, and then genius, and then you realize that that’s how the whole country was made. The iconic windmill was all about pumping water up and away to create dry land). As a rule, the housing is well-designed, dense, served by transit and separated bike lanes. Really impressive architecture – it helps that you can’t build without the approval of a team of architects who review your design. And the housing is affordable, not just because the demand approximates the supply, but because the City owns the land, and can decide the kind of development they’d like. Can I restate that last sentence, because I’ve never seen anything else like this in the world – the City owns the land. They lease it out for 50 or 100-year leases, so people will invest. But it’s the City’s call on what gets done. If you don’t trust government, this is a nightmare. But if you trust the government to support other values in a society because greed – well, this can be a really powerful thing. They’ve been doing it for 100 years here, and it’s working. Quite well.
Like Torino and Lyon, I’m sad to leave Amsterdam. But I know I’ll be back. We’ve got great friends here (special thanks to Josh and his beautiful family for helping curate such an amazing week). This was my fifth trip over a 20-year span, and it keeps growing in esteem and wonder. It’s got the filthiest, raunchiest neighborhood you’ve ever seen. But you never need to go in there – and if you don’t, the rest of the city unfolds her secrets for free.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Paris Fashion Report
Paris is the undeniable fashion capital of the world. What is seen here today will be a hit in your town tomorrow. But, fashion fan, conveniently, you are reading this today. Thereby, heed the six hot tips of this intrepid reporter, so that from the mall to main street, you, too, can be tre chic le freak (that’s French for “extremely classy and fashionable”).
1. Move over, Reebok. Get yourself a pair of Converse high tops. It’s the only shoe to be seen in. Entire hipster shoe stores are dedicated to the myriad colors and, well, only one shape. Whether you are sitting for hours at a café or standing for hours in line at the Musee d’Orsay, this is the shoe for any occasion.
2. And while you’re braving those elements, make sure to wrap your wee neck up in a scarf. Winter, spring, summer, and fall, it’s always cold enough to wear a scarf. At least for your neck. Accessorizes great with blazers, sweaters, polos, tshirts, and speedos. Always tie with the tail facing forward, showing as much fringe as possible.
3. This year, women’s hairstyles haven’t shifted much from last year’s “long and pouty with a chopstick” look. But men – let those fauxhawks grow on out. Yes, tousled hair is all the rage. Available in both messy, and mussy, men are unkempt as never before. Sell your shares in Supercuts – all you need is a good night’s sleep and 10 fingers to run randomly through your hair. And by the way, when this looks comes to San Francisco, I am going to rock your world.
4. Also in this year is smoking. Cigarettes, that is (please hold one week for the Amsterdam fashion report). It’s not unusual to see three generations of families enjoying a nice Marlboro Red after each course at their favorite outdoor Brasserie. It’s the kind of beautiful family bonding moment that helps pass the rich French heritage down through the generations.
5. And what a great year it is to be old. Old people are out everywhere, shopping, eating, swinging their canes at the young people, and genuinely enjoying life. Whereas in San Francisco, old people know they are unfashionable, and thus have the grace to stay inside, or move to Palm Springs, here they have the run of the land. And no elevators, escalators, or any kind of accessible amenity is needed for this hale lot. No, just another glass of wine, and no 100-stair descent into the Metro is inaccessible.
6. Finally, you must know, French is all the rage this year. From the top of the Eiffel Tower to the back of the smokiest café, Parisians insist on speaking the old lingua franca as if Napolean was still out kicking ass. Don’t worry if you don’t speak the language, it’s easy – just a few zheh zheh frah wee wees, and you can be fast friends with all Parisians you can stand.
1. Move over, Reebok. Get yourself a pair of Converse high tops. It’s the only shoe to be seen in. Entire hipster shoe stores are dedicated to the myriad colors and, well, only one shape. Whether you are sitting for hours at a café or standing for hours in line at the Musee d’Orsay, this is the shoe for any occasion.
2. And while you’re braving those elements, make sure to wrap your wee neck up in a scarf. Winter, spring, summer, and fall, it’s always cold enough to wear a scarf. At least for your neck. Accessorizes great with blazers, sweaters, polos, tshirts, and speedos. Always tie with the tail facing forward, showing as much fringe as possible.
3. This year, women’s hairstyles haven’t shifted much from last year’s “long and pouty with a chopstick” look. But men – let those fauxhawks grow on out. Yes, tousled hair is all the rage. Available in both messy, and mussy, men are unkempt as never before. Sell your shares in Supercuts – all you need is a good night’s sleep and 10 fingers to run randomly through your hair. And by the way, when this looks comes to San Francisco, I am going to rock your world.
4. Also in this year is smoking. Cigarettes, that is (please hold one week for the Amsterdam fashion report). It’s not unusual to see three generations of families enjoying a nice Marlboro Red after each course at their favorite outdoor Brasserie. It’s the kind of beautiful family bonding moment that helps pass the rich French heritage down through the generations.
5. And what a great year it is to be old. Old people are out everywhere, shopping, eating, swinging their canes at the young people, and genuinely enjoying life. Whereas in San Francisco, old people know they are unfashionable, and thus have the grace to stay inside, or move to Palm Springs, here they have the run of the land. And no elevators, escalators, or any kind of accessible amenity is needed for this hale lot. No, just another glass of wine, and no 100-stair descent into the Metro is inaccessible.
6. Finally, you must know, French is all the rage this year. From the top of the Eiffel Tower to the back of the smokiest café, Parisians insist on speaking the old lingua franca as if Napolean was still out kicking ass. Don’t worry if you don’t speak the language, it’s easy – just a few zheh zheh frah wee wees, and you can be fast friends with all Parisians you can stand.
Friday, June 17, 2011
La Vie Lyonnaise
We are on the train, leaving Lyon for Paris. I am less melancholy than when I left Torino. Not because I don’t love Lyon. I do. It’s just that we’re going to Paris. On my first high speed train. Sitting backwards, I feel like I’m being pulled into the future at 200 mph.
My assessment of Lyon is that, like Torino, it is a city in a very good space. The main difference is that Torino is in a rapid economic ascent that, if unchecked, may strip away some of its quality-of-life (like in SF, where the rent is too damn high). Lyon seems like it’s been in a good place for hundreds of years – happy to let Paris be the capital of panache.
Speaking of panache, after a week, the only French I can speak are words that are also in English, and “Excuse me, I don’t speak no Fron-say. Can we come to your country and bombard you with English”. French is not only harder than Italian, it’s completely undecipherable when spoken. Everything is either pronounced in the back of the throat or in the nose. Pronounced, it’s like someone sanded down all the words so that only the finest textures remain. It makes for high art. High, indecipherable, unpronounceable art.
In addition to having a beautiful-sounding language, the Lyonnaise have an outstanding quality-of-life. The public transit is impeccable. There are thousands of public bikes to rent for free or really cheap, depending on how long you have them (but which require a credit card with that little chip that American cards don’t have, so we never got to ride – c’est la vie). The architecture is lovely – inhabited for over 2,000 years, the old town is a UNESCO World Heritage District. Most of the buildings are a comfortable 6-8 stories. The newer section is less lovely, and from the 30s-80s, but is lovely as well – what it lacks in windiness, it makes up for in tree-linedness. Rent is very reasonable compared to salaries. And, on a national level, there are perks that, in place in America, would reduce the national stress levels in half – free health care, free school through university, excellent unemployment benefits, great social security. People work, and are challenged, and create, but money is not the organizing principle of life, and the office is not the hub of activity. It really is a pleasure to witness such a society and wonder what it is we sacrifice for our way of life – and are the benefits worth it?
And I haven’t even mentioned the food. We’ve eaten a whole zoo – both in diversity, and quantity. The French are not scared to kill, cook, and sauce anything. And if one’s attitude is to dive in, one must be willing to touch the bottom of the deep end. Frogs legs are like chicken wings, except still connected at the pelvis. Ducks have many edible limbs. Beef need not be cooked. Calves need not grow up. Intestines are our friend. Lambs beg to be chopped. And fish practically swim into your stomach, into a sea of delicious sea of local, light, low-sulfite wine. (Really. I mean, I often go months without getting drunk. Yesterday, it was twice, including once at lunch with a senior planner for the City of Lyon (who seemed unphased when we continued the meeting at his office)). And salads and cheeses and sauces and mousses and tartes and tartlettes and digestives and champagne.
So you may wonder how we saw any of the city with all this eating. Especially because dinners are easily two hour affairs, and often three. Well, the key is eating until 11PM, at which time it’s only been dark for an hour, and for the first time the skies aren’t filled with millions of cheeping, flitting, swooping swallows. Outdoors, preferably. After translating every word on the menu with our gastronomic dictionary (that’s right, a dictionary only of food terms – helpful in Italy, absolutely essential in France). Hold on, am I talking about food again. Sorry.
So I did manage to see a good bit of the city, and meet with many of the kind, sweet, shrewd people who are helping keep Lyon on course. In many ways, these planners have more influence and authority than we do in SF. In general, government has much more authority, and trust (which we could have too, if we didn’t have large companies continuously and cynically spreading the message that government is bad). Because of that, they are trusted to develop community plans with minimal community input (I have mixed feelings about that, because that means a lot of expertise is overlooked, but it does increase their power). The environment is treated with much respect (their green neighborhoods are really green, like carbon neutral green, like leafy green), but yet they don’t get involved in incredibly expensive, project-by-project environmental review. And, incredibly, in the big French metro areas are all run by metro-level governments to which the local authorities have ceded power. For example, Lyon has 58 cities in the “Grand Lyon” government, which controls land use, economic development, environmental considerations, and transportation in the metro area. It makes so much sense, given that jobs and housing and transportation and the environment are all regional issues. But it is still a rarity in the world, and that gives the French a real competitive advantage in making strong cities. With a regional economic strategy tied to land use and transportation, they can most efficiently build on existing trends and patterns, address needs, and leverage strengths.
And, of course, they have a LOT more money to work with. Which is possible in a society that is interested in investing in itself. For example, the government does the cleanup of polluted ex-industrial areas, to support their redevelopment, so as to keep prices down so that housing can be more affordable. For example, the first aspect of a project is always the transit, and only then does development happen. For example, at every level of government there are think tanks and researchers that gather best practices from around the world to share with their colleagues. And they go en masse to study other cities as well. Yes, I am green with envy, and also from the frogs legs.
My assessment of Lyon is that, like Torino, it is a city in a very good space. The main difference is that Torino is in a rapid economic ascent that, if unchecked, may strip away some of its quality-of-life (like in SF, where the rent is too damn high). Lyon seems like it’s been in a good place for hundreds of years – happy to let Paris be the capital of panache.
Speaking of panache, after a week, the only French I can speak are words that are also in English, and “Excuse me, I don’t speak no Fron-say. Can we come to your country and bombard you with English”. French is not only harder than Italian, it’s completely undecipherable when spoken. Everything is either pronounced in the back of the throat or in the nose. Pronounced, it’s like someone sanded down all the words so that only the finest textures remain. It makes for high art. High, indecipherable, unpronounceable art.
In addition to having a beautiful-sounding language, the Lyonnaise have an outstanding quality-of-life. The public transit is impeccable. There are thousands of public bikes to rent for free or really cheap, depending on how long you have them (but which require a credit card with that little chip that American cards don’t have, so we never got to ride – c’est la vie). The architecture is lovely – inhabited for over 2,000 years, the old town is a UNESCO World Heritage District. Most of the buildings are a comfortable 6-8 stories. The newer section is less lovely, and from the 30s-80s, but is lovely as well – what it lacks in windiness, it makes up for in tree-linedness. Rent is very reasonable compared to salaries. And, on a national level, there are perks that, in place in America, would reduce the national stress levels in half – free health care, free school through university, excellent unemployment benefits, great social security. People work, and are challenged, and create, but money is not the organizing principle of life, and the office is not the hub of activity. It really is a pleasure to witness such a society and wonder what it is we sacrifice for our way of life – and are the benefits worth it?
And I haven’t even mentioned the food. We’ve eaten a whole zoo – both in diversity, and quantity. The French are not scared to kill, cook, and sauce anything. And if one’s attitude is to dive in, one must be willing to touch the bottom of the deep end. Frogs legs are like chicken wings, except still connected at the pelvis. Ducks have many edible limbs. Beef need not be cooked. Calves need not grow up. Intestines are our friend. Lambs beg to be chopped. And fish practically swim into your stomach, into a sea of delicious sea of local, light, low-sulfite wine. (Really. I mean, I often go months without getting drunk. Yesterday, it was twice, including once at lunch with a senior planner for the City of Lyon (who seemed unphased when we continued the meeting at his office)). And salads and cheeses and sauces and mousses and tartes and tartlettes and digestives and champagne.
So you may wonder how we saw any of the city with all this eating. Especially because dinners are easily two hour affairs, and often three. Well, the key is eating until 11PM, at which time it’s only been dark for an hour, and for the first time the skies aren’t filled with millions of cheeping, flitting, swooping swallows. Outdoors, preferably. After translating every word on the menu with our gastronomic dictionary (that’s right, a dictionary only of food terms – helpful in Italy, absolutely essential in France). Hold on, am I talking about food again. Sorry.
So I did manage to see a good bit of the city, and meet with many of the kind, sweet, shrewd people who are helping keep Lyon on course. In many ways, these planners have more influence and authority than we do in SF. In general, government has much more authority, and trust (which we could have too, if we didn’t have large companies continuously and cynically spreading the message that government is bad). Because of that, they are trusted to develop community plans with minimal community input (I have mixed feelings about that, because that means a lot of expertise is overlooked, but it does increase their power). The environment is treated with much respect (their green neighborhoods are really green, like carbon neutral green, like leafy green), but yet they don’t get involved in incredibly expensive, project-by-project environmental review. And, incredibly, in the big French metro areas are all run by metro-level governments to which the local authorities have ceded power. For example, Lyon has 58 cities in the “Grand Lyon” government, which controls land use, economic development, environmental considerations, and transportation in the metro area. It makes so much sense, given that jobs and housing and transportation and the environment are all regional issues. But it is still a rarity in the world, and that gives the French a real competitive advantage in making strong cities. With a regional economic strategy tied to land use and transportation, they can most efficiently build on existing trends and patterns, address needs, and leverage strengths.
And, of course, they have a LOT more money to work with. Which is possible in a society that is interested in investing in itself. For example, the government does the cleanup of polluted ex-industrial areas, to support their redevelopment, so as to keep prices down so that housing can be more affordable. For example, the first aspect of a project is always the transit, and only then does development happen. For example, at every level of government there are think tanks and researchers that gather best practices from around the world to share with their colleagues. And they go en masse to study other cities as well. Yes, I am green with envy, and also from the frogs legs.
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