We boarded our ship, the Viking Heimdal, docked on the River Rhone in Lyon, settled in our cozy little room with a balcony where I plan to spend a lot of time and got ready to sail this morning to Macon. The plan was scrapped though, thanks to some kind of weird hiccup with the water level. Not a prob. We had another day in Lyon. We used it to visit Les Halles, a huge supermarket of fresh produce and prepared foods, most of them specialties of Lyon, the whole place overseen by a giant mural of Chef Paul Bocuse, who is to the cuisine of Lyon what Einstein was to atomic physics. The local folks are not shy about the animal origins of some of the food we eat, which is why, among other amenities, they display their superb whole chickens with the bird’s head still attached. Otherwise, there were more kinds of cheese, sausage, shellfish, produce and pastry — all luscious-looking beyond belief — than I’ve ever before seen in one place at one time. It’s also pretty pricey. We restrained ourselves, took photos but ate very little, and returned to the ship at lunchtime, ravenous.