I stop by the bleachers that are dotted by little groups of people out savouring the night air. The air is a little fresh but full of the sounds of mid-evening in a European city. Behind me to my right is a duo playing Eastern European music on the Violin and Accordion, and in the distance I can hear the faint sound of the bongos.
Then there are the lights. The bridges are under lit with different colours, each one having it's own character. The Basilica on the hill stands out as a beacon, visible from the hills far the other side of Lyon. The replica Eiffel tower, bristling with cell phone antennae.
Wheeling off for home I head downstream and pass by the pontoons of the various bridges, around which the Rhône rushes noisily. There must have been rain upstream. The swans have roosted for the night in a small eddy by a pier. They are being watched by a large white cat that I scare off as I swish onward toward the bike station towards the dark end of the river.