Where does Lyon’s gastronomic reputation stem from? Is it the famous Les Halles de Paul Bocuse market named after the city’s most famous chef? The abundance of bouchons scattered throughout the city? Perhaps it’s not because of what’s in Lyon but rather what is nearby – world class wine regions such as the Rhône Valley and Beaujolais are in close proximity as well as the Bresse and Charolais regions providing wonderful poultry and cattle.

Or simply it comes down to the Lyonnais people: they love their food and spend a great deal of time eating and talking about it.

Let’s talk about bouchons. In a bouchon you will eat deliciously simple Lyonnais food on checked tablecloths, washed down with a Côtes du Rhône or Beaujolais. Typical Lyonnais cooking is working man’s food, classically meat-centered with dishes such as oxtail with red wine, boiled chicken or lamb’s tongue.

We had this quenelle de brochet sauce nantua (a specialty of the Rhône Alpes region) at a bouchon named Le Musée. The oval-shaped dumpling of fish had a creamy soufflé-like centre and was poached and served with sauce nantua which is made from crayfish shells which have been cooked and then crushed, capturing all those exquisite juices. This dish is incredible. One of the desserts was this crème caramel, it was sweet, fresh and eggy. We had a wonderful time at this bustling little bouchon.

Vieux-Lyon is one of the world’s largest Renaissance districts. Many of the buildings and houses in this historic neighbourhood have been restored and renovated over the past few decades. It is a magical part of Lyon to explore. Perched atop Vieux-Lyon on the Fourvière hill is the beautiful Notre Dame offering views down to the riverside streets below.

Like a rabbit warren, there are passages called traboules that pass through the heart of the houses. These passageways were built way back in the 4th century enabling silk workers to get to the river faster for transportation of their goods.

Lyon really is beautiful. We fell in love with it. I’m determined to go back one day and spend a bit more time getting to know this wonderful city.

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We admired the view of Florence from every angle at the top of the Duomo. Watched the sunset light shroud Piazza della Signoria. Saw the Ponte Vecchio from afar. And of course we left plenty of time for gelato breaks.

‘Italy is a dream that keeps returning for the rest of your life’ - Anna Akhmatov 

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On our short visit to Bitola, we took in a leisurely walk down the main street known as Širok Sokak. Perfect for people-watching, this street is lined with lively cafés, striking architecture and numerous galleries and shops.

From Bitola, we spent some time in Thessaloniki, Greece’s second largest city. It was only a brief stopover. We didn’t have time to brush up on Greek mythology at any ancient sites nor visit any of the idyllic islands, but we explored a little.

We stopped in at a taverna and enjoyed a spread of ages-old Greek favourites. Few things are better than the taste of oregano and lemon on charcoal grilled octopus.

Fast forward to a few years later and we’re now enjoying those classic Greek flavours at Brika, a near-new eatery in Perth’s CBD. No sign of faux marble columns here. This place has a contemporary feel yet a Greek rustic charm about it. On the menu you’ll find meze (short for “mezedes”) which are small plates designed to share.

The first dish brought to us was a beetroot salad with haloumi, pomegranate and mint. This was delicate and fresh. The white and golden beets were a welcome surprise – these are slightly sweeter than the red. More haloumi with its lovely salty tang was needed to balance the sweetness of the beets.

The next dish was the octopus. Charcoal grilled with oregano and lemon. Sweet, tender octopus, with a distinct charcoal flavour. A liberal squeeze of lemon and I was hooked.

Following the octopus was the pan fried barramundi with skordalia. A crispy outside covering three pieces of the succulent white fillets. The punchy skordalia was a perfect match.

A few of glasses of the Thymiopoulos ‘Young Vines’ Xinomavro from the north of Greece and lashings of warm pita bread and we’d had our fill. This was deliciously simple food in a relaxed atmosphere. Promises were made to come back and try the slow-cooked lamb.

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As far as I’m concerned, everything’s better with cheese. I just can’t get enough of the stuff. Pecorino Fiore Sardo from the island of Sardinia and Selles sur Cher from the Loire River in central France are some of my favourites. The palate-burning Gorgonzola Piccante needs a special mention. Salty, sweet, and sharp. B won’t go near it. His favourite is something like a Maffra cheddar from Victoria or a fresh goat cheese. I have long given up on the belief that he might grow to love blue cheese as much as I do.

As for Montmartre, we couldn’t recommend it highly enough as a base to explore Paris. We stayed in a cosy apartment tucked away in a laneway next to the Moulin Rouge and whilst you could regard this area as the ‘red light’ district of Paris, a wander around the more unassuming parts of the neighbourhood reveals a vibrant village filled with cafes, bakeries, markets and galleries.

At the heart of Montmartre on top of the steep hill is the Basilica de Sacre Cœur. Standing on the front steps, we took in the views of Parisian rooftops (touted as a view rivalling that of the Eiffel Tower), before we came across the only vineyard in Paris, the ‘Clos Montartre Vineyard’. Montmartre was once a favourite haunt of many of the greatest writers and painters such as Hemingway, Monet and Picasso. A bohemian arty vibe still resonates within the narrow cobblestone streets of this neighbourhood.

We took a stroll along Rue Lepic many times, listening to the sounds of the language spoken and got a sense of what it would be like living here as a local. To live life as a Parisian, with our own neighbourhood fromagerie around the corner would be heaven. I can’t wait to return someday.

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