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Hardworking steps
Usually, it's pretty easy to pick the first photograph, representative of the post, but after spending a few days wandering around Marseille, I'm finding it a hard city to define as it appears to have so many different personalities, and extremes. Which makes it all the more interesting to visit.
Usually, it's pretty easy to pick the first photograph, representative of the post, but after spending a few days wandering around Marseille, I'm finding it a hard city to define as it appears to have so many different personalities, and extremes. Which makes it all the more interesting to visit.
Steps up to Gare St. Charles, which is modern inside and attached to the bus station. All very civilized.
On my first visit, I was vaguely headed towards the sun and sea, which in my mind, meant walking downhill. The station environs were like so many; Turkish kebab takeout and lots of men smoking. But shortly after that was Cours Julien which is known for its nightlife, but being an old person, I was there in the morning. It's a quiet street with cafes and clubs on one side, stores on the other, festooned with graffiti, which is pretty much a constant in Marseille. It seemed shocking in the same way Venice Beach was that first time, especially in comparison to Santa Monica. But as you settle in, it's possible to take the place as it is without judgement, to begin to understand the context. While at first all the graffiti felt like people yelling, trying to get my attention, it became more like the voice of a shared community. Even in the nicer neighborhoods, it was there, next to the plant filled streets with tourist shops selling soap and t-shirts.
On my first visit, I was vaguely headed towards the sun and sea, which in my mind, meant walking downhill. The station environs were like so many; Turkish kebab takeout and lots of men smoking. But shortly after that was Cours Julien which is known for its nightlife, but being an old person, I was there in the morning. It's a quiet street with cafes and clubs on one side, stores on the other, festooned with graffiti, which is pretty much a constant in Marseille. It seemed shocking in the same way Venice Beach was that first time, especially in comparison to Santa Monica. But as you settle in, it's possible to take the place as it is without judgement, to begin to understand the context. While at first all the graffiti felt like people yelling, trying to get my attention, it became more like the voice of a shared community. Even in the nicer neighborhoods, it was there, next to the plant filled streets with tourist shops selling soap and t-shirts.
Le Panier, an "up and coming" neighborhood
A lot of the "streets" in Le Panier are like this, with potted and hanging plants
On the way up to Cours Julien
I liked this guy, Le Panier
My personal favorite, Cours Julien
Pillows I would maybe have bought if I had a couch to decorate here. Noailles
I fancy these colors, the way they all came together
Fish market, Noailles
Eventually I found the harbor and sat myself down to the most perfectly situated and highly touristic restaurant I could find, treating myself to a grilled dorade with ratatouille and potatoes in olive oil, outside in a T shirt, watching the world go by. Next to me was a table for four, and twice, it was filled by 20-something French boys, such an unlikely place for them to dine on a Monday. But dine they did, the second lot deliberating for a very long time about their meals, going back and forth and both supporting decisions of their friends as well as adivising them to go in different directions. It was dear how serious they were. Later on in the week, I was to see this happen twice more, taking 5-10 minutes of the waiter's time, asking such specific questions at restaurants that one wouldn't think merited that much thought.
After getting the feeling of sun on my face, I wanted more and headed for the Corniche, which is Marseille's version of a boardwalk. I took an illogical but absurdly delightful route that went around and over a hill where all the nice houses are, zig zagging through tiny, steep streets with few people, but breathtaking light, a quiet and not a leaf out of place. There were nice surprises around every corner.
Eventually I found the harbor and sat myself down to the most perfectly situated and highly touristic restaurant I could find, treating myself to a grilled dorade with ratatouille and potatoes in olive oil, outside in a T shirt, watching the world go by. Next to me was a table for four, and twice, it was filled by 20-something French boys, such an unlikely place for them to dine on a Monday. But dine they did, the second lot deliberating for a very long time about their meals, going back and forth and both supporting decisions of their friends as well as adivising them to go in different directions. It was dear how serious they were. Later on in the week, I was to see this happen twice more, taking 5-10 minutes of the waiter's time, asking such specific questions at restaurants that one wouldn't think merited that much thought.
After getting the feeling of sun on my face, I wanted more and headed for the Corniche, which is Marseille's version of a boardwalk. I took an illogical but absurdly delightful route that went around and over a hill where all the nice houses are, zig zagging through tiny, steep streets with few people, but breathtaking light, a quiet and not a leaf out of place. There were nice surprises around every corner.
The posh hood
A hill leading away from the water
Going down one hill with a view of another. To the right is the Mediterranean.
Walking through a Sargent watercolor
So many little alleys like this
Guard cat in the posh hood
And then, there it was, that beautiful sea, almost blindingly bright it was so sparkly. I'd guess it went up to 70 degrees resulting in many young people sunning on the rocks in bathing suits and more than a few in the water despite it being a Monday early afternoon when I would have thought there was work to do. But then, who am I to talk?
And then, there it was, that beautiful sea, almost blindingly bright it was so sparkly. I'd guess it went up to 70 degrees resulting in many young people sunning on the rocks in bathing suits and more than a few in the water despite it being a Monday early afternoon when I would have thought there was work to do. But then, who am I to talk?
Corniche looking west to Isle d'If
What a crazy place. Imagine living up there!
Pretty razor wire at a military installation
Look at that clarity
If you look closely at the houses, you'll see there are four topless Russian looking men on the porch of the building with a funky second storey. With the boats lined up and this being tucked outside of the main harbor, I imagined them drug dealers, operating in one of urope's largest harbors, bringing the goods in via Northern Africa and sending them east. But more likely it's an airbnb with four blokes from Liverpool on a stag party.
Pretty old boats and reflections, Vieux Port
There was a row of yachts with descriptors that included the year they were built. This was one of the older ones, it was interesting to see how design had changed over the years.
Loved this solid lass
Flat version of the Chicago kidney bean, apparently Sir Norman Foster's work
That's me on the right, in the non-kidney bean reflection
Sometimes, when expectations are low and attitudes are flexible and open and the overall mood is right, it's possible to have a perfect day.
Sometimes, when expectations are low and attitudes are flexible and open and the overall mood is right, it's possible to have a perfect day.
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